#appropriate referencing gets me hot too

[chaoswritesthemultiverse]

In my recent game I came across some dialogue from Gale I've not seen before, despite this being my 500000000th romance with this man. So we meet Lorroakan for the first time and convince him that Aylin is dead. Speaking to Gale, I think, ok, he's going to be like "hey what a shit wizard" or "what an arrogant little twat" because we've already seen his rubbish projections and it's Lorroakan, come on. Then Gale says this:

Yes, he falls short of - wait. What? Gale is roasting Lorroakan not for his magical skills. He is incensed by his inability to use multiple sources to verify information.

This absolute nerd is more pissed about having too few citations than the fact that Lorroakan is an amoral little jerk that wants to torturously leech off of an aasimar's soul for his own immortality.

I -

Gale, please never change. I love you, you ridiculous dork.

[reidsaurora]

Your event is so cute!!! Could I get a sun kissed Malibu dream house with Aaron?? 🥹 in need of some fluff with him hehe

i am so so sorry this took me so long to write! writer's block these past few months has been kicking my butt. but, thanks to my awesome betas, i think i wrote something you'll like! hope you enjoy!

"Summer Lovin" ~ A. Hotchner

Summary: As the start of summer arrives, you and your friends at the BAU find yourselves feeling a bit reminiscent of the summers before. Along with that reminiscence, you start to miss the days when you and Aaron had little babies instead of big kids…

Pairing: Dad!Aaron Hotchner x Mom!Reader

Word Count: 2,019

Content Warning: lots of talk of babies/pregnancy, sexual humor, kind of fade to black smut if you read between the lines lol, small mention of food, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i'm so sorry this took so long, i had a very hard time writing this and def meant to post it sooner. however, in the spirit of my city being under a heat advisory today, this feels appropriate to post 😂

Originally Written: 06/04/2024 through 06/25/2024

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold and @virtual-vivi 🫶🏻🩷

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Summer Celebration info can be found here!

Sun Kissed - fluff requests

Malibu Dream House - domestic!au

Aaron tossed off the blanket, letting out a small sigh of relief. “When did it get so hot?” he grumbled, his morning voice prominent. As he rolled over to his back, you spotted a big wet spot on the front of his tee shirt from just how much he was sweating.

Still, you scooted closer to him anyway and tossed an arm over his abdomen, his familiar scent filling your senses. “News said there’d be an excessive heat wave today.”

“It's probably ninety degrees already,” he complained, “and it's not even 9:00 yet.”

Rolling onto your side to face him, you left a trail of kisses along his jawline. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills,” you giggled, referencing one of your kids’ favorite movies. “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?”

“It's sweltering! How in the world could you possibly want to cuddle right now?” Aaron ignored your attempt to brighten the mood, instead opting to toss a pillow over his head and groan into it.

You just pulled the pillow away and left another peck on his jaw. “Because I love you. And because our children are gonna come in here any minute to take you away from me.”

He noticed the small pout that followed your statement, the expression enough to soften even Aaron Hotchner, king of stoicism, up. “Alright, fine. I'll allow it. But only because you drive a hard bargain.”

Your pout was replaced with a smirk as you snuggled closer into his side. “Mmm, that means a lot, coming from an ex-prosecutor. Maybe I should've gone to law school with you.”

“You're too sensitive for the big house, or whatever they say,” Aaron snickered. After noticing your look of offense, he quickly covered with, “I didn't mean it in a bad way. You have feelings. It's a very nice thing to come home to after dealing with emotionless psychopaths all day.”

“I think you're trying to compliment me. I'll take it.”

His lips met yours for a quick peck before saying, “I have nothing but compliments for you, my love,” Then, he met you with a second, much longer kiss, and while he tasted like morning breath, moments like this were so rare that you were willing to look past it.

One of his large hands met your leg, his calloused fingertips trailing along your bare skin. It felt like a lifetime since you'd been like this, with two children always needing your attention and the FBI always needing Aaron's. Just a simple touch of his fingers had you forgetting about the outside world, if even for just a moment.

Your lips met his neck, his stubble scratchy against your skin. He'd been away on a case in Seattle for about a week, and you were certain he hadn't shaved the whole trip. You liked it that way anyway.

His hand traveled further up under your nightgown, settling on your thigh. He squeezed the supple skin, a gesture of both affection and want.

“Are you trying to go for number three?” you joked before kissing his neck once more.

“Believe me,” Aaron chuckled, “if I knew I had enough time, I'd certainly try.”

As if on cue, four scurrying feet came stamping across the hardwood floor into your bedroom. “Good morning, Daddy!” both of your children yelled in sync, climbing onto the edge of the bed.

“That's why you're not allowed a third,” you mumbled into his ear. “The ones you have don't even appreciate me.”

“They love you, I promise,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. To the kids, he said, “Good morning. Don't you have anything else you want to say?”

They both turned to you, sheepish looks coming across their tiny, adorable faces. “Good morning, Mommy.”

“That's better,” Aaron said, gaining him a snicker from you. “Now, may I ask why the two of you are up so early and you're already in your swimsuits?”

It was then that you realized he was right. Jack, the older of your children, was sporting his favorite Spiderman swim trunks, while his little sister, Libby, had managed to dress herself in a cherry-print swimsuit she hadn't quite grown into yet. They made your heart melt.

“Daddy,” Libby sighed, clearly exasperated with her father, “don't you know what day it is?”

It happened to be the day your kids hadn't stopped talking about for weeks: the beginning-of-summer pool party you and Aaron threw every year for your friends and his coworkers at the BAU.

Aaron tapped a finger against his chin, his brows furrowing as he thought. “Let's see… it's not Libby’s birthday, and it's not Jack’s birthday, it's not my birthday, and I don't think it's your mom’s birthday,” his last comment earned him a sarcastic look from you. “Hmm, what day could it be?”

You joined in on his little game, tapping against your chin as you pretended to think. “Perhaps it's Christmas?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at you. “It's too early in the year for Christmas,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You're right.” As you continued tapping your finger, you shot Aaron a knowing look, which he gladly returned. He could tell by the gleam in your eye exactly what you meant with that look. “Is it…”

Each of you grabbed a kid, tickling and eliciting little squeals and giggles. “Pool party day?!” the two of you shouted in sync.

Libby thrashed around in your arms, laughing and squirming, while Jack attempted to escape his father's arms. Moments like these were almost as rare as the ones with just you and Aaron, so you had to take advantage of them while you could.

“It's pool party day!” Libby squeaked, while Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.

Their smiles and laughs pulled at your heartstrings. You wondered when the universe decided to make your babies grow up, since it seemed like only yesterday when you had a newborn and a two-year-old.

Bringing yourself out of your nostalgic trance, you pulled yourself out of the bed, grabbing each kid by the hand. “Who wants to make pancakes while Daddy’s in the shower?”

—

Soon enough, all your friends had arrived and it felt like summer had too. Penelope and Spencer were currently entertaining all the kids, while the other men were crowded around the grill and the rest of the ladies were sitting poolside and working on their tans.

“You ever wonder if either of them will have kids?” JJ asked, nodding toward Penelope and Spencer.

“Spencer, a hundred percent,” Emily answered, like her statement was a fact. “Penelope, I'm not so sure.”

You were next to jump into the conversation, not even bothering to look up from your magazine. “Why do you ask, Jen?”

JJ let out a longing sigh. “It's been so long since we've had a baby around here.”

Putting the magazine down, you looked over to her, eyebrows creased. “Henry's only three. It hasn't been that long.”

“You don't miss having a baby at our get-togethers? Emily, where do you stand?”

“Don’t look at me,” Emily said with wide eyes. “If I didn't have to change another diaper for a lifetime, it still wouldn't be long enough.” She was the one person in the group that was rather indifferent to children, but babies, she'd rather not talk about or be around.

“Yeah, babies are nice,” you said, “but the pregnancy part? That's what I'd rather go a lifetime without.”

“Well, I'm sure there's one thing we can all agree on,” JJ snickered. “At least making the baby is fun.”

Emily tossed the pillow behind her back in the direction of her coworker, giggling all the while. “Jennifer!”

“What?” she laughed as she swatted the pillow away. “Am I wrong?”

You let out a small snicker yourself, shooting a glance in the direction of your husband, who was currently taking his turn in manning the grill.

Neither of your friends missed that look, both their mouths falling agape at the expression. “Spill!” they squealed in sync.

Penelope made her way over from the edge of the pool, her face overtaken by the brightest smile known to mankind. “I heard the ‘Someone has beans to spill’ variety of squeals and giggles. What am I missing?”

“Nothing,” you insisted with an eye roll.

Emily patted the edge of her chaise, welcoming Penelope over. “Come sit, we're gonna get it out of her. After all, two out of three of us are profilers.”

Your eyes narrowed at the brunette. “Do you forget that I also used to be a profiler before my kids came along?”

“Stop changing the subject,” Penelope said with a swat of her hand. “Spill your guts. What did I miss?”

“Well, we were talking about how it's been so long since anyone on the team, past or present, has had a kid,” Jennifer explained.

“And someone looked at her husband with that look,” Emily further explained.

You scoffed. “It was not that look.”

“It totally was,” your friends spoke in sync.

Penelope's face lit up like a child in a candy store, her mind clearly running rampant with ideas of what the look meant. “Oh my God, are you-”

“No!” you quickly interrupted, knowing exactly where that question was headed. “Not yet anyway,” you mumbled under your breath.

The three of them practically jumped out of their seats and gathered around you, all screams and smiles.

“We haven't even had the conversation yet!”

“But you're going to!” Penelope insisted.

You rolled your eyes, but internally, you couldn't be happier for the gift of friendship from these three women. Jennifer, the mom friend in more ways than one. Emily, the voice of reason who not-so-secretly had a funny side and always knew how to make you laugh. And Penelope, the perfect shoulder to cry on and perfect soul to confide in. Lucky didn't even begin to describe how you felt about knowing these women.

Suddenly, you found yourself— as Penelope had said— spilling your guts. “I don't know. This morning just felt… different. Like, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have another baby around.”

The three of them flooded you with comments of love and support, hugs wrapping around you from each direction. Having another baby would be different, of course, but your friends were making sure that you knew it would be a good kind of different.

“I still have to get Aaron on board, so no one get too excited,” you reminded them.

JJ was already way ahead of you. “We've got the kids, Rossi and Derek have the grill. Don't worry about anything out here. You and your man deserve a moment of free time.”

“Just so we're clear,” you said, pointing a finger as if to further prove your point, “we are just going to talk. No funny business.”

Emily snickered. “Yeah, the same way you guys used to ‘talk’ on the jet?” Your cheeks heated to a bright red shade at her comment.

“Ew, Hotch is in the mile high club?!” Penelope practically screamed. Luckily, everyone else seemed too engrossed in conversation to hear her, but you were still mortified nonetheless.

“Okay, scratch what I said. I'm actually going inside to give myself a lobotomy.”

And with that, your friends were shouting in sync different variations of “Have fun!”

Then, with a smile on your face from both the joy of friendship and the love you had for your husband, you found yourself heading over to the grill and pulling Aaron away. His reaction was nothing short of laughter as you practically dragged him toward the house, his shirt nearly coming off with how hard you were tugging it.

Lips met skin as you closed the back door behind you. Aaron let out another chuckle, though he surely wasn't protesting your affection. “Woah, that look in your eyes tells me you're the one thinking about number three,” he commented, referencing your words from that morning.

“Well,” you said as your fingers started to trail under the hem of his dark gray tee shirt. With another kiss to his neck, you continued, “About that…”

taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @lover-of-books-and-tea

[dancingwithreality]

an idea p.g.10 part.2

gif not mine!

pairings: pierre gasly x fem!reader; friends to lovers

word count: 4.68k

summary: feelings are springing up everywhere, and suddenly your friendship doesnt really feel like just a friendship anymore.

a/n: very poorly translated french please bear with me, yes i referenced a song because its currently (and constantly) playing in my mind. reader is french btw dont know if it was obvious with the whole childhood friends thing but just wanted to state it. not betaread so if theres any typos, english isnt my first language and i wrote this only at night so, good luck.

please do not take my work! enjoy and interact!

YOU STOOD IN FRONT of his door as he leaned against the frame, you didn't really know what to say right away, clearly not thinking enough before acting.

'Hey,' you started but completely lost all words, what were you doing here?

'Everything okay?' Pierre tilted his head to the right, looking at you inquisitively.

'Yeah, yeah! Just uh, tired.' You tried not to look at him too hard, lest you start bumbling like an idiot.

'Wanna come in for a nightcap?' he shifted his weight to expose more of the opening to his room, simply inviting you in.

'You sure?' If you were being honest with yourself, you didn't know if you wanted to go in or not.

'Wouldn't have opened the door if I didn't want you in, chérie,' normally, you would have laughed at his words 'want you in' but you didn't think it was appropriate in your predicament.

You walked in and wondered if he'd always called you that, and if his clothes were always that tight. You'd sat down on the edge of his bed, you still kept closely to yourself.

'Are you absolutely sure you're okay?' He sat down next to you, arms elbows resting on his knees while he kept his head turned to see you.

His gaze felt heavy, but it was still as soft as it normally was. Not pressuring you, not bored, not uninterested, but patient and understanding. It would be hard not spilling everything in your mind to him right there and then.

'Just worried about quali, that's all.' you lied. You hated lying to Pierre.

'Oh chérie,' He sat up and wrapped his arms around you in a comforting manor. 'Silverstone can be dangerous but I'll be okay, love.'

What was up with him and the pet names? But still, you sat there in his embrace and let yourself decompress. His arms were always so warm, like a bed bathed in soft sunlight and your body heat from the night before. Like it would be cold if you got out.

'Can- can we stay like this?' You didn't want to be cold.

'We can stay as long as you want,' his voice was soft in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your head.

And you did stay, just like that, all night. That was, until Pierre's alarm rang and disrupted the calm. Somewhere along the night you'd ended up laying down still in his arms. Somewhere along the night, you'd ended up as tangled up in blankets as you were with him.

Your head was against his chest and on top of his arm. Just as his other arm was wrapped around your waist, so was yours around his, and you didn't know where his legs started and where yours ended.

With your hand that was previously clutching his shirt you reached to rub your eyes of the sleep keeping them closed. His breath was lightly fanning your face as your eyes grew wide and your face grew hot at the proximity. By some grace, he'd awoken just then, shifting his position and rubbing his legs on yours.

'Hm, morning.' He groaned in your ears, his voice low and husky.

'Good morning,' this time it was your voice that cracked making you inwardly wince at the sound. 'Gotta get ready for quali, yeah?' You cleared your throat and slipped right out from under his hold.

'Yeah,' he was looking at you a certain way and his gaze felt heavy. 'I'll stop by in 50 and we can head out?'

'Oh uh, no you can go ahead I'll catch up later.' You waved your hands and head around in a dismissing manor. Shit, what if he worries? Every time you could make it to a race, you and Pierre always went to every practice, qualifying, and race together. This change in behavior made you think he might worry but you hoped he wouldn't.

'Alright chérie, I'll see you then.' He smiled softly went off into his bathroom yelling, 'Lock the door on your way out!'

•••

While you were panicking in our own room, trying to act like a normal person and decide what to wear, Pierre was kicking himself in his room. Lock the door on your way out?? What was he, an idiot? Pierre always payed such close attention to you he could notice even the slightest of changes. And from the day before, every one of your actions was off, so long as it involved him.

As you could probably imagine, this made him freak out internally, Was he making you uncomfortable? Did he do something? Or worse, did you find out about his feelings and now you didn't know how to act around him? He stared at himself in the mirror as tried to calm himself down.

The smell of your lilac and gooseberry perfume lingered on his clothes, wafting up into his nose. How could someone and all things about them cloud his mind so much, yet bring such peace and calm?

When you said those five simple words, he swore his heart did backflips. All worry went out the window the second you wrapped your arms around him. How could he say no? The feeling of falling asleep with you and waking up with you so close made him feel so warm. Like the setting sun in an open field of flowers and tall grass.

He couldn't keep thinking about this, he had to get ready. The sweet smell on his shirt was too precious to lose so he folded the shirt carefully and placed it on his pillow. If the shirt didn't smell like you when he came back, at least his pillow would.

On the way to Silverstone one of your favorite songs started playing, and it was just another reminder of you. Maria by Blondie. Event the lyrics were fitting.

Oh how you find so many ways to plague his very being.

•••

You've been doing this for years, showing up to races and everything, so everyone was used to seeing you in the garage. Granted Alpine was surprised at first. You weren't family, you weren't dating Pierre, but normally friends stayed in hospitality. Though soon enough you were a welcomed presence and dearly missed when you weren't there.

You were sat next to Pyry anxiously watching qualifying. Pierre was doing well, Charles even better. Though you were probably just watching to watch. You'd lost yourself in your thoughts and were absolutely absent minded. The mind could be a tricky place when you're dealing with unknown feelings and sudden unknown territory. You were out of your field of expertise with Pierre now. What were you supposed to do?

'Hey?' Pyry knocked his shoulder on yours to get your attention.

'Sorry, what'd you say?' You shook your head and came back to the real world.

'You've been really distracted huh?' He tilted his head accusingly, 'You and Pierre.'

'I'm sorry?'

'Somethings going on with you two.'

'What is with everybody and being so preceptive?' You groaned and put your head in your hands. 'Is everyone a psychic or something?'

'No we have eyes.' He retorted. 'It's painfully obvious. He's never been more distracted, and you're usually his rock and you're a wreck.'

'Thank you so much, that's exactly what I want to hear.' You gave him a dead stare.

'Love is a messy thing. But it's not something you let pass you by, its probably the best opportunity you'll ever have. Especially one like yours and Pierre's,' he started tapping the side of his head. 'Trust me.'

Who knew a trainer could have such wisdom? You for sure didn't. 'That's.. actually really sweet. And smart.' You bumped Pyry's shoulder with yours. 'Thanks.'

'Yeah, I know,' he laughs and shrugs before crossing his arms and adjusting his posture.

The best opportunity you'll ever have.

•••

You'd been having a fun night with Pierre and Charles. They wanted to relax and prepare before Silverstone so you were all in your hotel room. You'd brought your neck massager with you and Charles was sitting with his arms in the handles and head leaned back. The boys were communicating back and forth, Cha giving Pierre advice for the (high) midfield and Pierre giving Cha his thoughts for making his way up to the podium.

You were leaning against Charles with your legs in Pierre's lap when they pulled you into the conversation. 'Chérie, what do you think?' Pierre asked, his hands tracing gently up and down your legs.

'Uh,' his touch was distracting. 'Honestly, I wasn't really paying attention much today.'

'Interesting,' Charles mumbled, earning an elbow to the stomach.

'By what?' Pierre turned his attention towards you but his hands didn't leave you.

'A thrilling conversation with Pyry.' You exhaled.

'On?' Charles dragged the word out and wiggled his eyebrows.

Here was when you noticed Pierre stopped. He was nearly frozen solid, hands mid-air. Why were you talking to Pyry? His trainer? And why was it thrilling? He cleared his throat, 'Uh, about what?'

'He was, helping me with a problem, unsolicited.'

Why was he helping you? What problem did you have? Why were you going to Pyry for it? Why didn't you tell him? Pierre's mind was running a mile a minute. Things were being so strange in your relationship he didn't know what was wrong. 'Did it, uh, help?'

His eyes met yours and there was something behind them he couldn't quite place. While a feeling of dread and worry was settling in his stomach, another was setting in yours.

One like yours and Pierre's, was running through your head. You did kind of already act like a couple. But you'd always been like that. Was there really a possibility of you two being more?

'Well obviously, if you didn't want whatever this thing is so badly, you wouldn't be looking for advice everywhere.' Charles spoke up, watching the tension rise between you two in different ways. He could see Pierre tense, and though it was a weird angle he could see the feelings right behind your eyes. The only question was if you'd notice it.

'Yeah..' You'd nearly whispered, a smile creeping its way onto your face. Yeah, maybe you did want it. So you reached over and rested your hand on Pierre's arm closest to you, thumb stroking his skin. 'You're gonna do great, I have no doubt.'

As if you were a beacon in the dark, you cleared his mind of any worried thoughts with a simple touch. His hands went back to your legs and that calm look back on his face. 'Thanks, mon amour.'

With a light blush on both of your faces, you fell into comfortable conversations. Sharing laughs, stress melting off all your shoulders.

Whatever they were talking about, you'd stopped listening. Right here in this moment you felt so content. What else could you want? Your best friend and the man who was taking over your heart. Peace and warmth spread over your body and you'd found yourself thinking. Dreaming, of a future with you and Pierre together across the couch from Charles. Pierre's arms around you and your body swallowed by his. Charles sat opposite you as the three of you laughed, the occasional tease at the new couple, and a domestic reality.

•••

Your biggest problem on race day was always what to wear. Two friends on teams with completely opposite color schemes how could you pick? So regularly you alternated. In Austria you wore a white tank with loose jeans, a Ferrari cap and matching windbreaker with matching New Balances.

This time, you decided to deck out in Alpine. You slipped on a pair of high waisted light washed jeans and went searching for your shirt. A few weeks ago you’d altered an Alpine polo, cropping it and cutting the sleeves off. The colors matched well with the dark blue paisley bandana and skillfully straightened hair. To top it off you had some retro Jordan 4s in a delicate pink. A light, clean, makeup look was all you could settle for as you checked your watch and saw the time pass by quicker than you’d thought.

Dainty gold jewelry covered you from earrings to actual rings, but careful not to go overload with it. A white leather handbag was the cherry on top as you packed your stuff and made sure to head so you could try and make it on time.

Unfortunately you barely made it, the formation lap having already started. You watched Charles slide easily into fourth and Pierre a few places behind him in eighth. You crossed your fingers and got ready to pray they both made it up in positions.

As the lights flashed and the cars started you were given a headset and stood with Esteban’s girlfriend watching on a monitor. It’s lights out and away we go, you thought as the cars took off and Lando overtook Max on the first corner. You could already tell this race was going to be interesting.

•••

Lap five and Max took back his first place spot. Predictable but you would miss those four laps of bliss with Lando leading.

•••

Lap ten and they were calling in Esteban which didn’t bode well in the garage. Elena had gone with his to his drivers room hoping to bring him some comfort. You were alone chewing on your lip now, hoping this would be all that happens this race.

•••

Lap thirty-three and things had been going good. Charles overtime both McLaren’s as he sat in second place. They were both doing well as Lando sat in third and Oscar defended both of their positions from fourth.

But suddenly K Mag crashed. They brought the car in and called a red flag to make sure the track was safe to continue racing on.

•••

A lap later, thirty-four, and Pierre made contact with Lance. Your heart stopped and you held your breath. Cars were spinning out as he made contact with Carlos just after. You crossed your fingers and kept your eyes glued to the screen and you saw them call Pierre in to box. The damage to all nearby cars called for another red flag.

They were cleaning up the Vale chicane and you watched them asses Pierre’s car. The damage to the right-rear suspension wasn’t all too bad as they managed to keep him out.

You thanked whatever power was listening that he was still in this.

•••

Lap fifty-one and by some stroke of luck Pierre was in sixth, basically tailgating George in front of him.

He was coming up on turn three, onto a DRS zone and you prayed that he would overtake. And thanks to the same power listening before, he overtook George and made distance between them bigger. Cheers were spread throughout the Alpine garage at this little victory.

And at the end of lap fifty-two, the end of the race, as the last car crossed the finish line, Charles in second and Pierre in fifth you’d never heard a garage celebrate louder. Granted until you heard McLaren.

Cars went back to their respective garages as you waited for Pierre to come out. You all knew the chances of Pierre crossing that finish line were slim. Damage to the suspension normally means retirement and a depressed driver. Yet how he managed to pull across that line and keep it going was something you couldn’t believe. And manage to pull through into fifth in an Alpine? You meant no malice though, no offense, just honest thoughts.

He pulls into the pit lane parking just outside the garage and hands his steering wheel to the crew member nearest and jumps out and onto his car. He through his hands up and screams in victory. Those ten points would be his saving grace and push him further in his career.

Pierre runs into the garage and gets picked up by every pit crew team member and thrown around by everyone. There was a joy in the air that was contagious. Your two favorite boys both in the highest spirits had you going nuts.

As soon as they let him down you made eye contact with him. The grin on your face was so wide you knew it was gonna hurt tomorrow. He lit up immediately and somehow his smile only got wider. The two of you started running towards each other as you collided in a tight hug.

Your arms wrapped so tight around his neck and his so tight around your waist they wrapped around completely. Chests pressed against the other you’d never felt so warm, so happy, so comfortable. The sweat from his neck was rubbing off on yours but you didn’t care. You’d have to shower after getting back to your room but you didn’t care.

The pure joy that radiated off both you was more important. His long fingers curling into your waist and pressing on your skin sent you into hyperdrive. In one quick motion, Pierre picked you up and started to spin still wrapped in the embrace. You threw your head back in laughter and your giggles filled the room. Eventually he set you down, and you two laughed as you pulled away, his hands on your waist and yours on his shoulders.

‘You did it mon amour!’ you could barely think straight as your threw your head back into his shoulder and placed a quick kiss to his cheek.

‘I did it!’ He cheered and threw his fists up into the air, the whole garage cheered with him. Pierre started thanking everyone in the garage, shaking hands and hugging them all. He gathered everyone around and started thanking the whole team, addressing them as a whole in a sort of victory speech. Even though we didn’t get on the podium and only one of our drivers made it across the finish line you would’ve thought we got pole with a 1-2 finish.

You stood further in the back admiring him as he continued to give his makeshift speech. That radiant smile on his face and the passion in his voice made you swoon. Maybe you did like him. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe you were happy about it.

•••

When the boys wanted to go to the club, you were all for it. Lando wanted to celebrate his win, Pierre was on a high, and this race was just what Charles needed. You'd told them to go ahead without you and that you'd join them as soon as you were ready. You wanted to spend extra time getting dolled up because tonight was a special night.

You wore your best short skirt, a pale cream with an asymmetrical cut. You had on a long sleeve, sheer glittery pink shirt with a matching bikini style bra on underneath. You paired it with a small cream handbag and long laced up cream heels.

Your hair was styled in bouncy curls and your makeup done light but intense. If all things boded well tonight you would act on your newfound feelings. And if not, you'd blame it on the drink, even if you highly doubted it would end bad. After doing a once over in the mirror you dabbed some of your signature scent on with a light dose of the pheromone perfume everyone spoke so highly of.

So you called a cab and put on an extra coat of lip gloss to boost your confidence as you would need it tonight. Taking one of the deepest breaths you probably ever have, you put one foot in front of the other and walked into the club.

Head held high and heels clicking on the floor you walked over to the booths that had been reserved for the night. As soon as you sat you placed a drink order on the little screen at the table smiled to the two on your left.

'Hey boys,' You smiled wide and let out a little giggle at the end. 'Some of your best work out there today!'

Pierre was left stunned at the sight of you as soon as you walked in. Whenever you turned up, it didn't take long for his eyes to find you and when they did, wowza.

A simple look at you would melt him but when you looked at him? He would turn into a puddle, especially when you looked like that. It was like he fell in love with you for the second time.

'Who are you trying to impress?' Charles raised his eyebrows with a knowing smirk.

'No one,' you responded and for a second Pierre thought your eyes flew to his just before flying away. 'Anyway, tonight is about you guys and your stellar performance today!' As you finished your sentence the waiter walked up with your raspberry daiquiri and you thanked him as you took it.

One large sip later and you were all laughing and chatting. The three of you were sitting at the booth just talking and drinking for the most part, at least until the liquid courage was enough for you.

'That's it, i'm bored.' You set your now empty glass down and stood up smoothing out your skirt. 'Lets dance,' you stretched your hand out to Pierre and waited for him to grab it.

And hesitantly he did, though not before sending a glance to Charles. He was surprised at the force of your pull, dragging him towards whatever direction you wanted. 'Come on, amour!' You'd yelled over the music now using both hands to pull Pierre with you.

That was the second time you'd called him that today, and it made him flush red. You didn't know what you were doing to him and if it was cruel Pierre didn't care. You two had always been close. Closer than most normal friendships. From the pet names, to the physical touches, people would normally just assume you were dating anyway.

But you'd never called him amour, love. It was new and it was welcome and he would pay to hear it in your voice everyday. Pierre knew it was dangerous, dancing with you like this while thinking about you like that. With your bodies moving together and your faces nearly inches apart, it would take his whole willpower to stay away. To keep his hands off you.

Which contrary to his belief, it might've been just what you wanted. Begging him in your mind to just make a move, put his hands on your hips, drag you closer, stare into your eyes and push your hair behind your ear. So as soon as a waitress passed by you grabber her attention to ask for a few shots, hoping they would make at least one of you brave enough.

And as soon as the drinks got to you, you both took them, albeit Pierre was hesitant. But he still drank it and it definitely loosened you all up. Bodies got closer, hands nearly roaming the other, faces so close, it was a painful fate. The two of you so close yet so far. Whatever heavy gate kept kept you from crossing that line felt nearly impenetrable.

You cursed whatever twisted hands put you in this position. To give you these feelings for your lifelong best friend but forbid you from doing anything about it. You could think about it all later and just enjoy the moment, its all you're ever gonna get.

•••

Pierre got wasted. Something about the energy of the night made him go further than he normally does. Luckily, you didn't let yourself go and devoted your night to watching him.

So at roughly two you called it. He was nearly falling over so you huffed as you carried half his weight and dragged him to the hotel. 'You better be glad Hungary is in two weeks, you can sleep this off all you want,' You'd left the club maybe five minutes ago after begging Charles to pay your tabs, which he did.

It was hard to call a cab when you were focused on keeping Pierre on his feet. One hand was up, waving as you whistled trying to get ones attention and the other was around him. Luck was on your side once tonight, and that was when one pulled up before you toppled over. In a haste you opened the door and shoved him in. You climbed in after him and let the cab take you back to the hotel as you could rest your shoulder.

And as soon as you pulled up, payed the cabby, and shuffled out with Pierre hot on your tail, the struggle started again. Pulling him up to his room was a tough feat as he kept giggling and laughing about something. Combine that with whatever was making him stare at you and touch your face, with a look in his eyes you couldn't place, it was a miracle you got back in one piece.

'Okay ange, lets get you in bed.' You threw him onto his bed and let him laugh there as you grabbed his pajamas. This wasn't your first rodeo with drunk Pierre, so you had a routine when it same to changing him.

He nearly always wore the same linen shirts when he went out so you made quick work of that. Then it was the matter of getting him to undo his pants, so you could pull them off from the bottom of his feet. 'Come on Pierre, help me out here.' You were lightly tapping the side of his face and trying to get him to cooperate.

'You're pretty,' he said in-between giggles. 'I like you.'

'Yes that's all very nice, lets take your pants off now.' You ignored the heat in your ears.

'Woah! Take me to dinner first,' he really found that funny because he started combusting in laughter and moving around, clutching his stomach.

You finally managed to pull them off and slip on his sweats as he suddenly got very serious. It confused you for a moment when he leaned up on his arms and deadpanned. His muscles flexing and stretching as he held onto one of your arms and pulled you close. For a second, you were weak and let your eyes drop. The view of his chiseled and toned body with his sweatpants riding low enough for you to see the band of his boxers. The very moment felt sinful.

'Listen.' He said sternly but still clearly inebriated. 'Je vais t'épouser un jour.' [I'm gonna marry you.] His deep stare into your eyes felt so intense that if he wasn't very drunk, you would've given in at that moment, screw the friendship.

'Ask me when you're sober.' You laughed lightly to diffuse your own tension, face the color of a tomato, and used his leaned forward position as an advantage to slip his shirt on over his head. 'Up now.'

He listened and sat up, helping you to push his arms into the holes in the shirt. For the split second your hands were on his bare skin someone could have mistaken the moment for something very domestic. Even you would have, if you didn't know all you are is best friends.

'Alright! Time to get in bed,' you helped him get comfortable and made sure he was covered but not too hot. You got a feeling of deja vu in this moment, but chopped it up to the other times you've done this. 'Goodnight Pierre.' You smiled and pushed some of the hair off oh forehead.

'Goodnight mon trésor, je vous aime.' [i love you.] He smiled and dug further into the bed.

'Yeah, me too.' You gave him a soft smile he probably wasn't even paying attention to. You turned the lights off and before leaving his room you heard a quiet phrase.

'Je vais faire d'elle ma femme.' [I'm gonna make her my wife.]

You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the back of his door. Something about alcohol always made Pierre more, intimate. Marriage was new though. Oh how cruel fate was.

fin.

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 31 – An Unauthorized Fan Treatise by Lauren James

This was a book (or, web fiction piece. Web serial? I’m not actually sure how it was initially released) that I read basically on a lark after getting curious seeing a few people talk about it on tumblr. So, score one for viral marketing and the convenience of reading free webfiction, I suppose – I was up until half past three in the morning barrelling through it all in one sitting. Which is all just incredibly appropriate for this story in particular.

So, the story’s a thriller/murder mystery, but specifically one about the actors on a trashy CW-style hot-young-adults-playing-supernatural-creatures-having-teen-drama style tv show, as told in the form of a sprawling series of essay-length posts by a fan devoted to proving that the two male leads are fucking in real life but forced to hide their live by the homophobic network. Things get more tangled from there.

So, as I said, very appropriate that I learned about this on tumblr. Basically everything about it is about online fan culture – there’s tens of thousands of words devoted to recounting livejournal sockpuppet drama, every chapter ends with a ‘comment section’ that’s mostly a Greek chorus but occasionally relevant to the plot, and almost literally every single aspect of the story and framing are a reference or pastiche to some famous online clusterfuck or other of the kind you’ve probably watched far-too-long video essay retrospectives of on youtube. Or I have, anyway (but then again, ninety percent of the references were a bit before my time anyway, so the cultural education was pretty crucial to me understanding what this was going for at all).

And, given all that, I ultimately found this pretty disappointing? It was absolutely readable, and enjoyable in the moment, but the metatextual commentary element meant the thriller plot at the heart of it just ended up seeming like, well, cheap soap opera. Beyond that, the framing device just seems like one giant missed opportunity, the commentary on fandom culture was in the end pretty shallow, and the shocking twist in the epilogue was, I think, just a mistake.

So okay, lets justify all of that in order.

When I say the plot didn’t really hold together for me, that might be more the fault of the word-of-mouth marketing that pointed me towards the story more than any promises the text itself makes, honestly. But I went in expecting a story about fan obsession and hallucination, projection and parasocial relationships, and all that. And downstream of that, I was expecting something a bit grounded? And the story just wasn’t either of those things; to begin with, the two celebrities the ‘fan treatise’ is about really are secretly dating and being forced to hide it, which seemed like kind of inexplicable decision to me as I read it. It’s not just that, either. Like to be clear this story absolutely has an unreliable narrator, but for a story ostensibly about fan obsession, it seems a bit odd for, lik, there to be an extended digression about how a famous actor was totally of an asshole in a livejournal fanfic community a decade previously, and then have that be revealed to be totally and unambiguously correct.

It’s less of an issue, but as I said the actual murders and intrigues at the core of the story are kind of just..ridiculous? Which I honestly normally wouldn’t mind, but- wen your story spends so much time talking about trashy supernatural tv shows and fanfic, it becomes kind of important that the ground-level narrative seem real by comparison, you know? And this had altogether too much talk of ‘the dark web’ for that.

I’m very possibly going to be putting my foot in my mouth hear (most of the specific fan cultures and pieces of drama being referenced, I only really know second hand through various salacious youtube gossip rags), but for all that the entire story’s utterly preoccupied with, in the end I found the commentary on fan culture really..shallow? Sure, the entire premise is having a laugh at larry stylinson-style RPF shipping conspiracies, the entire livejournal plot is a pastiche of the MsScribe drama, there are plenty of jokes about how m/m shippers literally forgetting about te female lead in te show she headlines, etc, etc. And they’re, largely, well-done references and jokes! Not really complaining about that.

But I’m kind of left feeling like there’s nothing really underneath it all. Which- if James had sat down a story with the explicit purpose of Saying Something About Fandom, it would almost certainly have been terrible. But between the murder plot and the revelations of Gottie’s byzantine revenge scheme (which honestly I’m consciously choosing not to think about too hard lest this just turn into cinemasins-for-books), in the end all the fandom stuff almost felt like window dressing? Elaborate, detailed, and impressive window-dressing, to be sure, but as the story went on and the plot became more clearly thriller-ish, increasingly revealed to be surface level and ornamental.

Speaking of ‘surface level’: the web serial medium and use of links here was such an incredible missed opportunity. You have an utterly unreliable narrator with a secret agenda and a grudge writing tens of thousands of words of livejournal essays about celebrities, and then you go to the effort of making actual accounts on twitter/insta/whatever to leave real links to when you cite them, and then you have her actually faithfully relate what the cited paged say? What a waste! This would have been so much better if it was 50% more postmodern and up its own ass about playing with the format. And doing so would even let you have that (incredibly obvious on one level, entirely out of nowhere and dramatically dead when it’s dropped as the literal last word of the story) reveal in the epilogue actually work!

Anyway, this all sounds incredible negative. Which isn’t entirely inaccurate, honestly, but I should reiterate that I googled this out of idle curiosity on a Friday evening and only realized it was 3am when I finished it. The negativity is more because this seemed so close to being amazing than because it was anything heinous.

[starburstfloat]

so i saw your tags on that reblogged post about hybe and removing the k from kpop, and i'm super interested in hearing your thoughts! and yeah i do agree that bts' music in recent years has lost a lot of what makes it unique :/

Oh I'd love to chat about it - thanks for giving me the opportunity to share more of my thoughts!

For those who don't know, we're referencing this opinion piece article that discusses, in an appropriately scathing tone, how bang pd/hybe executives are leading kpop to its demise by making poor creative choices for their artists (mostly BTS, but whoever comes after will evidently be affected by their creative decisions). Namely, releasing superficial bland pop music, in the attempt to remove the K from Kpop and make the genre more global and palatable for all audiences; essentially, taking away Kpop's core essence to appeal to the US music market.

Having been an avid kpop fan since 2010, and more of an observant media/pop culture enthusiast since 2016, the westernization of the genre doesn't come as a surprise to me. What does surprise me though are the masses of BTS army, whose demographic comprises the largest share of Hybe fans, who avidly support this trend. It's a reason I found myself getting distant to the fandom since the release of Butter, since the mere suggestion that BTS were losing their creative identity garnered hoards of angry responses of people retaliating with "well it's good they're getting the recognition they deserve!" and "it's catchy music for the radio, why would you be upset?"

I think what a lot of people who support Hybe's decision are missing here is that most of us don't really care if the lyrics are changed from Korean to English - if it's a good song, I don't care what language it's in. But that's not what bang pd means when he suggests removing the K from Kpop. He's removing the entire sound of kpop and, with most Korean artists not lyrically skilled enough to write their own verses in English, which will be the dominant language going forward for title tracks (at least for now; this may change as new waves of trainees and more stringently enforced English lessons hit the writing room), we're going to see most Kpop songs no longer written or produced by the members of the groups.

It's a bit ironic, since that's what kpop grew to embrace in third gen, especially with BTS's penmanship getting recognition from fans and non fans alike. BTS rose to fame for their authenticity, their songs crafted from personal experiences and imagination, and that's what attracted so many people to them, myself included. They had something meaningful to say. Then when they rose to popularity, the goal became to become as marketable as possible, and we witness a complete creative downfall at the start of the dynamite era, what the author of the article dubs the English Trilogy.

I could even look past the superficiality of a track if it's able to become something noteworthy or iconic. Consider the success of GIDLE's Queencard - a title track that rocks lyrics like "I'm hot, my boob and bootie's hot, spotlight, I'm Star Star Star". It completely dominated Korea's music charts this year, and saw success internationally too. Why? Firstly, the title references a well established Korean slang word (calling someone a King or Queencard in correlation to their cool aura). Secondly, it doesn't take itself too seriously. GIDLE said, Here's a camp song for the girls and the gays and delivered, without slapping on some forced heartfelt deeper meaning. Thirdly, the music video, from the styling and choreography, draws artistic inspiration from early 2000s films like Mean Girls and White Chicks - a creative choice that enhances the comical and vibrant tone of the track. Lastly, Queencard is so undeniably kpop - from the song structure, the vocal blending, the bridge, the choreo - it's kpop perfection. Is it a basic pop track? Yes, absolutely. But it's also bigger than that, for all the reasons I just mentioned, so it's a shame that hybe, in its pursuit of monopolizing the industry, sees something like that and goes, how about we just strip kpop of all its fun parts and give audiences the blandest cardboard cereal blend they've ever tasted? Evidently Jungkook's solo album Golden was this very attempt to experiment with a solely western style, detract from the vibrancy or intensity of what kpop was before. Where's the artistic charm in that? It's disappeared.

I guess it all comes down to the fact that hybe, and at this point we can assume the bangtan members too (since I don't subscribe to the "bang pd evil, members get no say in decisions" narrative that some people suggest) aren't concerned with the meaning behind their craft anymore, just the money.

It's a bit infuriating because I, and assumedly thousands of others who have been part of the kpop wave long before BTS's rise to fame, would happily pay big money to see live music from acts currently releasing quality music. But I guess that requires more effort, and for hybe that's the least of their concern.

[angel-is-not-creative]

Hetalia

I cannot rate this with a good conscience ❤

I have autism and Hetalia is my special interest so this is literally 3k words long and I have absolutely no regrets. I could have gone on longer but I wanted to remain relevant to the class. If you don't reply to me I will cry.

I'm gonna break this into a few sections so you can skip around. I'm going to try and stick to just season 1 with this discussion, which won't be too hard cause it's the most insane one. Also, I just want to say that I wrote this all before I read the attached article and I'm now seeing that I literally could have written that article because I know everything about Hetalia.

When do we cross the line between stereotyping and just straight-up racism?

Hey, why are we idolizing WWII Germany?

Oh, we are portraying war as silly and funny, okay cool.

Is this Japanese Nationalism? (a surprisingly controversial argument)

The Sub and the Dub are 2 totally different shows

The Fandom (and linking back to other class-related terms)

Okay I'll name one good thing

Alright, let's get started.

1.

A lot of people will argue that Hetalia is not racist at all because they are making fun of everyone. If you are portraying all of the countries as their most common stereotypes then it evens out in the end. I would argue that this is in fact, not the case. Especially when you set your show during WWII. I will give Himaruya credit in that he mostly focuses on European countries to make fun of, making a lot of the stereotypes less so targeted at minorities. However, a lot of these jokes are still highly insensitive and frame some countries in a worse light than others

Just look at the difference between how Northern Italy is portrayed as opposed to Germany or Japan. Or how France is a predator, Belarus is into her literal brother, and Spain is seen as a creep. It is often times mocking an entire country's intelligence, appearance, or personality. While it is not always that serious, it does lead me to the second point.

When you personify a country and mock it, you aren't just mocking a piece of land, you are mocking an entire population of people. These jokes may seem harmless but they can still be hurtful. While I don't believe that liking Hetalia translates to your actual views on world events, it can unconsciously impact your real-life thoughts and behaviors.

(also why does Britain see imaginary magical creatures, what is that referencing? According to the wiki, it is some popular folklore story of a rabbit who lives on the moon but like.. what? If Himaruya was doing this much research into these countries' cultural backgrounds why is he portraying them like this?)

2.

This show portrays WWII Germany in too positive of a light for my liking. I've noticed a trend in anime where they seem to love Germany (or Germanic aesthetics) a lot (AOT I'm looking at you). Now I'm not well-versed in the interpersonal relationships between Japan and Germany, but the idolization is not it. The way that Japan in this show is portrayed as being literally obsessed with Germany is the biggest example (Italy is also shown having an immense appreciation for Germany and is often gushing about his positive qualities, even writing him a song while he was being kept prisoner). But I mean look at how Germany is portrayed, even his stereotypes are mostly positive, he is hardworking but helps out his fellow allies, makes great food, and is super strong. His only negative trait is that he sometimes doesn't understand social scenarios and that makes him very awkward. However, he will always go out of his way to try and better understand his friends (like Italy) by purchasing books to try and help him learn the appropriate way to act in scenarios).

This is 10x worse in the dub but we will get there. When one of your main characters, the one you are portraying in the best light, is a literal war criminal hot anime boy, you can understand why I would be concerned. I mean they gave him the whole blonde hair blue eyed appearance like come on. Now I'm not going to go into depth on fandom or anything here but Hetalia knows that its demographic is young tweens (primarily girls) so how can you be surprised when this portrayal of Germany leads to WWII fanfics sympathizing with Germany and 14 y/o girls in German military uniforms doing questionable things. (also Germany becomes a canonically gay character in Hetalia in like season 4 or something and that just makes me so mad, like yeah, of course, the gay character is WWII Germany that so cool) (okay, I would like to clarify that technically Sweden is the only confirmed gay character. Sweden is bad representation though because he has one-sided feelings for Finland and makes him uncomfortable by constantly referring to him as his wife)

3.

I mean yeah, obviously this isn't going to be an accurate portrayal of history but some of this is just totally misinformation.

Austria invading Germany is literally just Austria annoying him in his house for a really long time. But also there's like actual wars... and like all of the events of WWI are canon... and like there are some really serious episodes

Also, we literally see a bunch of countries going to war personally, like fighting on the frontlines. Which to me confirms that these people are all literal murderers, like mass murderers lowkey.

Do you know how many weird USSR jokes there are throughout this? So many. Lithuania is pretty much just in a running gag where he keeps getting manipulated by Russia into coming back to live with him. (Yeah, there are so many USSR fics as well).

ALSO! why is the American revolution portrayed as the saddest thing to happen thus far, the storyline is stretched out from episodes 16-20 and it is all drastically different from the tone of the rest of the show. Britain is literally on his knees crying saying that he can't shoot America (which also implies these countries can physically harm/kill each other). Like that is the war you wanted to make all sad and sentimental? Why? Is this how Japanese people think that we view the Revolutionary war? Because that is a pretty inaccurate view.

Anyways back to the original point. Some historical events should not be played for laughs sometimes. It is incredibly disrespectful for actual victims of these tragedies to portray these events as funny or goofy.

Though I will give credit because Himaruya does make all sides of the war look like idiots who have no clue what they are doing, which is a sentiment I can get behind.

4.

As a both non-Japanese and non-Korean person I can not really give my opinion on this however I can share with you both sides of the argument. This is mostly in relation to the original comic strip, but has some relevance to the anime as well. I just wanted to bring it up because it is interesting to me. (This is briefly mentioned in the article but I wanted to expand on the argument).

You may or may not have noticed that there is no South Korea character in this show, however, there was in the original comic. In the comics, South Korea is a pervert who is constantly touching Japan and he also takes credit for the inventions of other countries. Now I'm obviously not going to go into the past history of these 2 countries because that would be incredibly long but the South Korean National Assembly reviewed Hetalia and determined that it was a "crime against South Koreans, akin to slander". So yeah, South Korean people were not happy with this portrayal and the character was inevitably removed from the anime before release. (This is a real picture of the South Korean National Assembly reviewed Hetalia, the corner shows South Korea groping Japan inappropriately)

There are two opposing views to the Japanese Nationalism take and I'll link them both (Belittling Japanese Nationalism Hetalia: Axis Powers is the title of the first one)

The first one pretty much argues that Hetalis is not Japanese nationalism because it paints Japan in just as negative of a light as all of the other countries, no one is left out of being made fun of. Japan is seen as socially awkward, emotionally repressed, and obsequious.

The second argues that Japan is often shown to be more intelligent than other characters as well as often being of the voice of reason (especially compared to China) and most of his negative attributes are not nearly as harmful as some others in Japan’s case, even his “negative” stereotypes are inoffensive, as they pose no threat of meiwaku.

I think we see in the dub that Americans are a little more willing to make fun of themselves. Though there are a few good Japan self digs, like the capitalism joke in one of the first episodes.

5.

Oh boy I've been waiting for this.

The dub is 10x more offensive than the sub. Most people consider it a crack dub.

So many of the jokes are rewritten that it is practically a different show. The sub is from a Japanese perspective and the dub is from an American perspective.

First of all the accents in the dub are so bad like it is actually atrocious. Japan is really annoying because not only is his voice stereotypical but he always says 'nani?' instead of 'what?' as if that is a normal thing that people do. The narrator is the best part of the dub and she is hilarious.

So I don't really feel comfortable even typing out the jokes here so if you want to hear them I included the time stamps for the three nazi jokes I remember in season 1 (the last two being worse).

Episode 1 (1:35:1:38)

Episode 7 (2:13-2:19)

Episode 48 (1:28-1:31)

Those are just a few examples and it gets worse. The dub literally had no reason to include these jokes because there is not even an insinuation of them in the sub and it makes literally everything a million times worse.

I will give the dub some credit for being so utterly ridiculous that it's funny. I will provide a few timestamps for the funniest jokes that only appear in the dub from the first 19 episodes (but I really recommend looking up Hetalia dub funny moments on youtube because some of them are really priceless):

Episode 13: (1:45-2:05)

Episode 14: (1:12-1:22)

Episode 17: (0:59-1:15) (2:06-2:11)

6.

Now I've had this post typed up for a bit and originally I wasn't going to talk about the fandom but after reading the article that he assigned (and going through the fandom unit), I see that there is a lot of reference to fandom in particular so I want to at least mention it.

Not the 2 biggest problems with the Hetalia fandom are racism and the fetishization of gay men.

As mentioned in the article, there have actually been multiple fan incidents of them dressing up in WWII German military uniforms Germany/Prussia cosplay, and standing in front of temples with fake guns or doing nazi salutes in convention photos (If we want to bring racism and fetishization of gay men together there were two people who kissed in a holocaust memorial museum in Italy and Germany cosplay... there is no picture of this so it might be a rumor but it was well-known so it is worth mentioning). There were also a lot of people using imperialist Japan flags in cosplay/fanart and writing incredibly inappropriate fanfiction about real-life events.

If you would like to see any of these incidents feel free to look up "Hetalia the Boston Incident" I don't really wanna include the photos here.

The fetishization is not unique to the Hetalia fandom, but it is amplified to the max. Obviously, within Hetalia, there are almost no female characters, so this leaves only male characters to be shipped with one another. Now suddenly Germany is an uwu gay bean and not an actual war criminal. At the moment of writing this Hetalia has 32105 M/M fics on ao3 which is only one of the three fanfiction sites, with ao3 not even becoming popularized until after the peak of the Hetalia fandom. (the most popular ship being America/England who refer to each other as brothers in the show as England raised America, showing another problematic part of the fandom). I would argue that Hetalia has one of the gayest fandoms (My Hero Academia is giving it a run for its money though) and I agree with the article that it is inaccurate to say that this is only done by straight cis women. The fact of the matter is a lot of queer teens used Hetalia as an outlet to express their own sexuality through these characters. The straight women that do fetishize BL are likely only doing so because anime creators suck at writing good female characters.

I think that the "level of gayness" turns straight fans away from watching the show (again MHA is the same way today) as it is hard to interact with the fandom without seeing some yaoi content. However, many people view this as something wrong or cringy, when in reality it is a normal part of fandom culture. When gay people have such little content that is actually gay, you cannot blame us for creating our own through characters that we like/relate to. Again, I think the only issues that arise here are the problematic ships that give young people a bad impression of relationships (abusive, incest, pedophilia, etc) or the arguable problematic ones like China/Russia or Lithuania/Russia as again these are real countries with real political relations. (However, I will never forget the time that there was Russia/China fanart on the news, maybe they approve and I shouldn't be complaining)

The thing is, Hetalia only seems so bad because the fandom is so large and so young. A lot of shows have fandoms that sexualize the characters and have kinda problematic fans, but the sheer volume makes things seem worse. This is something that we covered when we watched Genshiken, but there is a lot of negative stigma behind this fandom in particular, but it is just a loud minority that gets a lot of news coverage between fandoms.

It also raises the question "Is a show responsible for the response of its fans?"

Because while Himaruya has no control over what people do with his characters or how they interpret a plot, if a majority of people are leaving your show spouting vaguely racist rhetoric and interpreting your show one way, isn't there some validity in that interpretation? I think a creator has to be aware of their audience, which in this case is a very young and impressionable audience who might not understand how offensive some of the things they are doing really are. They don't hold the same ability to separate fiction from reality.

That being said Hetalia had a large impact on fandom culture as a whole, largely starting things like 'ask a character' panels (along with like homestuck but we don't talk about her). If you go to any convention you will probably find a Hetalia cosplayer, and if you watch any dub there is probably a voice actor from Hetalia there.

I also want to mention Hetalia is also a fandom full of cultural capital, If you don't know every niche fact, you're not a real fan, If you haven't read Auf Wiedersehen Sweetheart you haven't even met the entry-level requirements to be a fan. There are also no characters that are too sacred to be altered within the fandom. If you want to put Germany in a maid dress have at it, if you want to see all the characters as girls you're in luck cause Himaruya literally drew them. Fanfictions can take place anywhere from WWI to the present day and you can put any characters in any scenario and make it believable. There are thousands of pieces of fanwork, fan art, fangames, and fan AUs. These characters are malleable to fit your personal preference and there is really no way you could be mad at this as Himaruya does this himself, with no real established canon.

a Hetalia fan once said, "No one cares if Hetalia was written by a Japenese Imperialism apologist when you're 31 chapters deep into a human Au soulmate fic about Austria inviting Prussia to see his boyband perform in Berlin"

Himaruya is also the king of moe characteristics because he turned these Hetalia men into any cute thing he could think of, Chibi versions (Chibitalia), female versions (Nyotalia), and cat versions (Nekotalia). He has no reservations about drawing the characters in a dress or in cat ears. He gave the characters human names to allow for more standardized human AU's and made a DS dating game. He encourages fans to take his characters and use them in their fanworks as they see fit, canon is up to interpretation itself. I think Himaruya himself was a huge part of fandom culture (not that I could tell you cause no one knows anything about the guy) and saw how the female characters were often treated by fans and turned it on its head, allowing for females to sexualize the males this time.

Also, none of the male characters in this show resembles a Hegemonic form of masculinity. Even the most masculine character in the show (Germany) can be seen doing more "feminine things" like wearing a dress or proposing to a man. Which, you know, I guess is a good diversion from things you would typically see in an anime of this nature (but again there are a lot of instances of characters being feminine being played for laughs, like a man being girly is something inherently funny). Feat. Germany proposing to Italy with a tomato ring.

7.

I am Hetalia's biggest hater, however, I cannot deny the impact that it has had on my life and how much I love to talk about it. Hetalia is what introduced me to anime and fandom (and tumblr) for the first time. I met a lot of people I still talk to today because of this show. It encouraged me and a lot of other people to actually get interested in history. Thanks to this show I can identify every country in Europe, and it was a lot easier to remember historical facts if I just imagined the Hetalia characters. Also, Auf Wiedersehen Sweetheart is a literary masterpiece and there is a reason it almost has a five-star rating on goodnotes (https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/22064556) I love you George DeValier I hope you're doing good wherever you are.

I would like to make it abundantly clear that despite everything I've said that might make me sound like a woke blue-haired liberal, I don't really think this show is some horribly racist show or that the people who enjoy it are racist. I just wanted to provide a deeper outlook on the impact a seemingly dumb show can have on real people. I can't really blame the show for the terrible response of the fandom and it did honestly get better in later seasons that are not focused on WWII.

Despite all the bad stuff, it is a relatively funny little 5-minute watch, and you can really just jump in at any point you want to. If you don't take it as seriously as I do you might even enjoy it a little.

If you actually read this far I have major respect for you, I'm really excited to see what the general consensus on this show is.

Prussia and South Italy were my favorites in case anyone cared

If you're wondering why I didn't do my presentation on Hetalia despite my extensive knowledge, it is because I would be incredibly biased and I would go off the rails I think.

Also, my biggest fear is current Hetalia fans finding this and killing me, that might seem irrational but the Gundam fans found me last time so I wouldn't put it past them.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 3) - A Moment

Summary: Jensen is away from home for a few days but isn’t having the easiest time being away from the kids for the first time since the accident. When he returns home, he has a gala to attend on Saturday night but a kiss on the cheek and slip of the tongue will snowball into the reader and Jensen sharing a moment...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,100ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, death of a parent, anxiety, self-worth problems, referenced past harassment

A/N: I love this part so much for so many reasons. Please enjoy!

________

“Hi Jensen,” you asked Monday night when your phone rang. “How was your flight earlier?”

“Same old same old. I just got out of work,” he said with a yawn. “Gonna grab a bite out with a friend. Kids eat dinner okay?”

“We had honey sriracha glazed salmon with brussel sprouts and roasted red potatoes.”

“Really?”

“They had kraft mac and cheese and I had Taco Bell.”

“See this is why I like you,” he chuckled.

“I’ll try the salmon again tomorrow. I was gonna make it but they didn’t have any at the store,” you said, opening the fridge and taking out a pint of ice cream. “Hey can I have what’s left of this mint ice cream?”

“Sure. Pick some more up for me sometime before friday please,” he said. “Also, Taco Bell? You do realize we live in freaking Austin right. There are literally hundreds of places you can go that have better mexican food.”

“Yeah but fake cheese tastes good,” you said. He laughed and your stomach rumbled. “I so should have gotten more than two tacos.”

“You in the kitchen?” he asked. You hummed and you heard him let out an oof in the background.

“Yeah. You alright?”

“This bed in my hotel room is comfy,” he said. “But I was starting to say, go in the drawer at the end of the counter by the table. There’s only five hundred gajillion take out menus in there. Order a treat for yourself. It’s on me.”

“Jensen. I can get my own dinner.”

“True but you’re on call 24/7 until I get back.”

“Well in that case I bet you got a menu for a fancy steakhouse in here somewhere,” you teased as you picked up one for a tex mex looking restaurant. “Does this place really have quesadillas this big?”

“You must be looking at the menu on top. I almost ordered from there last week actually. The food’s great. They do delivery too. Just buzz the guy into the gate when they get there.”

“Any recommendations?” you asked, taking out the menu and flipping it over.

“Quesadillas are good. Loaded nachos are amazing. I’ve literally never had a bad thing from there,” he said. “To be honest I’d rather be getting that than where I’m going tonight.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, reading through your options, surprised to find such good prices.

“I have to wear a suit,” he said with a sigh. “After being poked and prodded all day I literally would rather just eat crap and watch food network.”

“How long have you known this friend of yours?” you asked.

“Twenty years, why?”

“Then you guys knew each other when you were young. It’s not too late out there. Call him, see if he’d rather get some crap food, a six pack and just catch up on his couch or in your room. I’m pretty sure he’s more looking forward to seeing an old friend again than the food,” you said.

“You make very good points. I should pay you more,” he said.

“You pay me plenty and barely let me spend a dime of my money on myself,” you said. “I don’t need more.”

“You got that fancy computer though.”

“You literally have the exact same mac in your office.”

“You moved in like three boxes and two computers,” he said.

“An ipad is not a computer,” you said.

“Debatable.”

“Well I like to draw sometimes and it’s easier on an ipad when you’re laying in bed,” you said. 

“Are you any good?” he asked.

“No.”

“I bet they’re really good,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I see you draw with the kids sometimes and those are good.”

“It’s a hobby is all,” you said, leaning back against the counter, your stomach grumbling again. “Anything else you want me to grab at the store? I’m going to hit it tomorrow while everyone’s at school.”

“Nah. Get the usual stuff,” he said. “The kiddos in bed?”

“Yeah, got the last one down about fifteen minutes ago,” you said. He hummed and you heard the sigh in it. “I got a video of them playing earlier I’ll send you.”

“Thanks. It’s my first night away from them in a long time. Normally I’m able to come back same day. I was kinda hoping they’d still be awake to say goodnight.”

“They’re safe and sound dad. We’ll call again after school tomorrow to talk like today,” you said.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He was quiet and you pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath. 

“You okay?” 

“I haven’t been alone like this in a really long time.”

“I know. You check out your backpack yet?”

“No. Why?”

“You didn’t bring a jacket with you so I put that yellow hoodie that’s always on the hook in there in case you got cold.”

“That was Dee’s hoodie.”

“I was pretty sure it was,” you said. You heard him shuffle around briefly before he hummed, much happier that time. “I thought you might like to have a piece of...something-”

“I really don’t pay you enough,” he said quietly. “Thanks for putting this in there. I need something from home more than I realized.”

“Well put it on, call up your buddy and have some fun tonight, Ackles. Nanny’s orders.” He laughed and you felt that twinge in your stomach again, your eyes quickly closing.

“I will. Hey you mind if I call again tomorrow night? I don’t have any plans and sitting in a hotel room by myself isn’t very fun.” You smiled and felt heat in your cheeks, quickly thinking it away. He wanted company for a few minutes was all and you were friends. It was completely normal to talk with friends on the phone everyday.

“Of course. As long as you get a dinner in at some point that’s more than fine with me,” you said. “We can talk about The Bachelor!”

“Oh God no,” he groaned, chuckling after a few seconds. “I’ll settle for Grey’s Anatomy.”

“This Is Us?” you asked.

“Supernatural?”

“I haven’t watched that yet. I’m working up to it,” you said. 

“Work faster woman. I only know legit everything about that one,” he chuckled. “But probably not a good idea to watch that one until I get back and you're not alone. First episode is kinda scary.”

“Oh well thanks for that,” you said, watching the clock tick by, knowing it had to be almost seven out there. “I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight Jensen.”

“I will Y/N. Promise.”

Friday Night

“Arrow,” you said after she’d flung her pasta bowl all over herself, covering her hair and face. She sniffled and you forced a smile. “Okay. How about a bath after dinner?”

Fifteen minutes later JJ and Zeppelin were in the movie room watching a cartoon while you had Arrow in the kids bathroom, scooping up some water over her head in the tub.

“Well hello ladies,” you heard behind you. You jumped and spun around, glaring for a moment before you recognized Jensen.

“Just me,” he said, backpack still on his shoulders. 

“Daddy I got ziti all over my head,” she said.

“You did?” he asked, dropping his bag and taking off his jacket, kneeling down next to you. You got the last bit of sauce off and squirted some shampoo in her hair, Jensen watching you with a smile. “How was your day?”

She told him all about breakfast and daycare, playing with a few toy boats with him while you rinsed out the soap. You did a bit of conditioner before getting it out as well and putting the spray nozzle back.

“I got the rest if you wanna get the dryer ready?” he asked you, reaching for the soap. You swapped spots with him, Jensen washing her up while she kept talking about her day. By the time he was all done you had the dryer out and plugged in, Jensen picking her up and wrapping her up in a big bundle of towels before he set her on the counter. You went to work drying her hair, Jensen draining the tub and finding some pajamas for her.

“Do you want your hair up or down, sweetie?” you asked. She tried gathering it up and you grabbed her soft scrunchie perfectly fine for sleeping in from the counter. You put her hair up in a soft little bun, Jensen making an adorable sound when he returned.

“Aw, you look so cute, baby. I’ll be right there alright?” he said. She hopped off the counter and got dressed, rushing off downstairs when she was all done. “Survive the day?”

“Somehow we always do,” you said, gathering up the towels. “Kids are in the movie room.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna shower but we’re all good for the night,” he said. “Thanks for watching them this week.”

“You gotta go do your job,” you said. “You working on a movie or something? You never said.”

“Uh gonna be in a show called The Boys,” he said. “I’m gonna be one of the superheroes so I gotta go out and get my suit made all special for me every so often.”

“You’re gonna be a supe! That’s so fucking cool!” you said. He grinned and you blushed, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so not appropriate.”

“I don’t see any little ears around,” he chuckled. “You like the show then?”

“Yeah. It’s great. Like no other show consistently makes me go what the fuck did I just see. That’s so cool you get to be a supe though. Are you a one off or like a main character?”

“I’ll be very present in the next season. Gonna deal with the seven, all that,” he said. “I’m gonna be Solider Boy.”

“I can see that. You have that all American boy thing about you.”

“It’s my adorable face,” he teased. 

“Well remember to not stay up too late. You have the gala tomorrow night remember?”

“Yes mom,” he said as you walked out. “Get the kids some takeout for dinner tomorrow and yourself.”

“Sounds good boss,” you said. “Night Jensen.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The Next Night

You froze from where you were mixing up some brownie batter with JJ at the kitchen counter as Jensen popped downstairs. He was in a gorgeous black suit, a maroon pocket square and no tie going on, his hair scruffier looking than normal.

He started to laugh and you realized you were staring, your cheeks feeling hot as you went back to stirring.

“Mmm, you guys save me a brownie or two for when I get home?” he asked, leaning over and dipping his finger in the bowl of cream cheese frosting.

“We’ll spare one for dad,” you said, Jensen going back for seconds. “Ah, ah. No.”

He dipped his finger in and got another fingerful, kissing the top of JJ’s head and the twins at the counter.

“Be good for Y/N guys!” he called as he rushed out.

You whistled and he jogged back, catching you holding up his phone from the counter.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and pecking a kiss on your cheek. You looked up at him and he froze. “I am so sorry. I…”

“It’s okay. Go have fun and be all charitable,” you said. He shoved his phone in his pocket and ran out, JJ scratching her head.

“Dad’s kinda weird sometimes,” she said.

“Yeah, he is. But so is everybody,” you said. “Let’s get this in the oven so you guys can pick out colors for your frosting, hm?”

“I really shouldn’t. But I really should,” you said to yourself, plopping your second brownie of the night in a bowl and sticking a scoop of ice cream on top. You carried it over to the couch and lay back, watching TV on the big screen as you heard the door open. Jensen came into view a minute later, taking his jacket off and groaning as he washed up at the sink. He went to the tray of brownies on the counter and picked one up with a big sigh. “Fun night?”

He jumped and whacked his head against the cabinet above, hissing before he spun around.

“You okay?” you asked. He nodded and left the brownie behind, pushing his sleeves up before taking a seat on the other end of the lounger.

“Y/N I’m really sorry about the kiss on the cheek. That was so inappropriate. You’ve kinda implied that there was some stuff that’s happened to you at other jobs you found over the line and I’m really truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t...I forgot you’re my employee for a moment. I really am sorry.”

“Jensen if I had a problem with it or you or your behavior I would quit on the spot. I don’t let myself get pushed around anymore. You were happy and busy and you pecked a kiss on my cheek, not reach a hand down my pants. It’s really okay. You’re way too hard on yourself.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive. It’s barely ten which means you left as soon as you could. You’re supposed to be out having fun,” you said.

“I was kinda freaking out that you hated me,” he said.

“Dude you gotta relax,” you said. “Have a brownie and some ice cream.”

He got up and after a minute took a seat at the other end with a bowl of his own, smiling as he got a taste.

“This is fucking awesome,” he said.

“I know,” you said, Jensen smirking. “Do you feel better now silly boy? I promise that if you ever do anything I find inappropriate I will promptly kick you in the balls.”

“I can agree to that,” he said. He ate for a moment, watching the TV and laying back. “Do you ever like, want to go do things with your friends on a Saturday night? If you do that’s totally cool. These aren’t normal hours anyways.”

“Being a nanny eats up a lot of your social life,” you said. “Kinda got kicked out of my friend group after I broke up with my ex anyways.”

“Well they sound like they suck,” he said.

“Yes, they do,” you said. “I don’t mind so much. I meet plenty of new people through work. Only person you can depend on is yourself and I don’t tend to let myself down.”

“That’s a very lonely way to go through life,” he said.

“It’s not easy to make friends in your thirties,” you said. “Maybe for someone like you who travels and meets new people a lot and stuff but you have like, real friendships. You know?”

“Well we have a real friendship, don’t we? You’re friends with Jared and Rob and Ruthie and Rich,” he said. “I don’t trust just anybody with my kids. That’s real.”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a bite. “So when’s your friend free?”

“Hm?”

“Blind date guy. Maybe he could be a friend if things work out,” you said.

“Oh yeah. He uh, he actually got a gig up in Canada so you might need to wait like a month or so. But he’s excited to meet you,” said Jensen.

“Can I have his number?” you asked. “Or do you think that’d be weird?”

“No, not weird. I think he just kinda wants to do it old school if that’s okay. Meet you first and go from there.”

“This friend of yours better be like super hot,” you said.

“If it’s a problem-“

“I can respect him wanting to do things like that. But I’m gonna want a firm date soon,” you said.

“I’ll make sure to get you one,” he said. “I’ll get it down tomorrow, promise.”

“He better not mind me eating like this either. I ain’t a salad on the first date kinda girl. He’s gonna need to keep up with my eating while were at it,” you said. He snorted in his seat beside you and ran his hand over his face.

“I will keep that in mind. I have occasionally had dessert first truth be told,” he said.

“This is why I like you Ackles. You get my sweet tooth,” you laughed.

“It’s a good thing your dinners are healthy cause I swear I haven’t consumed this many baked goods in months,” he said. “The kids love it and my stomach loves it though.”

“I’m gonna need to start working out though if I keep this up. Oh hey is it okay if I do laps in the pool in the mornings? I’ll be super quiet and stuff.”

“You don’t gotta ask,” he smiled. “Like I said when you started, you got free reign to use the pool, the gym, whatever, aside from my room. You a swimmer?”

“Not really but I hate running and supposedly it’s a good workout or something,” you shrugged, eating another bite of brownie.

“Anything in the gym you’re free to use. I know you must get a little bored sometimes when I’m gone and the kids are,” he said.

“Not bored per say. Ordinarily I would do more chores but you have like a cleaner and a landscaper and you just...give me more time in the day than I’m used to is all. It’s actually great though. It gives me plenty of time to come up with ideas for the kids and stuff.”

“Well as long as you’re taking breaks and your lunch do as you please,” he said, his spoon scraping the bottom of his bowl.

“Now that’s just sad.”

“I really should get another one of these,” he said, sucking the spoon.

“It’s really the only choice you have,” you said. He laughed as he hopped up, skirting back into the kitchen and fixing up another brownie and ice cream combo.

“Hey you want more, Dee?” he asked. You popped your head up and he spun around. “I’m-“

“Don't apologize, Jensen,” you said. He tapped his fingers against the counter and took a deep breath, putting his back to you.

“That’s the second time tonight I’ve done that,” he said. 

“Jensen. There’s nothing wrong with missing your wife.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“You don’t...talk about her much.”

“It was...she wasn’t…” he trailed off. He sat down on a barstool and you got up, walking over and hopping up on the counter beside him. You set your feet in the stool next to his and paused before you put a hand on top of his head and ran your fingers through the short strands. “This shouldn’t have happened to her.”

“Death is the price for living. Pain’s the price for caring. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it,” you said. You started to move your hand away when he turned his head. 

“Don’t…” he said, easing when you played with it gently again. “That’s always calmed me down since I was a little kid.”

“Someone should take care of you every once in a while you know. Your parents, siblings, friends. Everyone needs a break.”

“I had a lot of help at the beginning. I don’t need a whole day. Just a moment here and there,” he said quietly.

“It’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. He nodded and you played with his hair a few moments, watching his shoulders ease. This time when you pulled away he smiled up at you. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you. That’s not in your job description to do that sort of thing.”

“Well I think your wife would want somebody to watch your back, even for only a minute or two,” you said.

“You don’t have any brain aneurysms I should know about, do you?” he chuckled. 

“No. That what happened?” you asked, a single nod coming from him.

“She was sleeping. Not a bad way to go I was told, you’d never even know,” he said. “Not a fun thing to wake up to in the morning though.”

“My dad had a mass at the back of his head. It was that same kind of thing where one second it’s fine and the next everything’s different deal. It was inoperable. Then he goes and dies from a car accident of all things before it got bad. My mom had a hard time with that.”

“You said she had a boyfriend later on right?” he asked.

“Yeah. I know you’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. You ruffled his hair and he smiled, a soft look on his face. “Pro tip too from someone who’s been there, kids with a single parent turn out just fine.”

“Do they ever wish they had another parent?” he asked.

“They wish the parent they still have around is happy again someday. They won’t understand until they’re older that it’s a different kind of love between parents. But they’ll know it’s a little different and they’ll hope dad feels better too. Your kids are tough. They’ll be okay too.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. You hopped off the counter and washed up your dish, sticking it in the dishwasher before you went to leave for your room. “So I gotta ask. Who takes care of you?”

“Me?” you asked, pointing to yourself. He shrugged and smiled, your gaze going past him. “I’m all good. I don’t need somebody to take care of me.”

“Liar,” he said softly. “You know my friend tells me everybody needs to be taken care of sometimes.”

“That’s the difference between us Jensen. You’re not like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed, his face scrunching up suddenly.

“It means you’re not on your own and even if you feel like it, it’s only been a little while. You’ll be okay. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a kid. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“You haven’t lived my life and I haven’t lived yours. Don’t try to tell me that I’m not capable of-”

“It’s not about what you’re capable of. You said pain is part of life, it’s the price for living. You’ve had more than your fair share-”

“Lots of people have it a lot worse.”

“Don’t compare your pain to someone else's. They haven’t lived your life,” he said. You rolled your eyes and started to walk away, Jensen out of his seat and catching up with you in the hall. “You can be taken care of too you know.”

“By who? My non-existent circle of friends? My crappy ex? My mom’s ex boyfriend who’s got his own wife and kids? I am perfectly fine managing all of this by myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“You’re so frustratingly annoying,” he said, running his hand over his face. “Me. I’m talking about me. You just...you took care of me tonight. The least I can do is show you the same compassion.”

“No,” you said.

“No? Why not?”

“Because taking care of me turns into you walking into my shower without my permission and you being a dick and this going away and I don’t want you to be those things so no. We’re getting too friendly. Please leave me alone tomorrow.”

You left him in the hall and went down to your area of the house, shutting the door after you. There was quickly a knock and you growled, ripping it open.

“What?” you snapped at him.

“I am not going to hurt you or be a dick to you or whatever else you think. You need to realize in the real world, not everyone is an asshole.”

“You’re the one not living in the real world then, Jensen. Everybody’s an asshole.”

“Fine. I’m an asshole. But I’m not leaving until you say I can take care of you tomorrow. Two minutes is all I’m asking for.”

“This is my part of the house.”

“And technically I am outside your door,” he said. “Why are you so resistant to somebody doing something nice for you?”

“Because I don’t wanna get used to it,” you said. He stared and you shook your head. “You’re attractive and an actor and kind and funny and it’s not a matter of if you date again but when and when that day comes, we ain’t gonna be sitting on the couch eating ice cream anymore. Please do not invite me to anymore outings as a friend. I’ll attend if required as a nanny but this between us is done.”

“For the record, the only one around here that thinks of you as just the hired help is you. My children are completely like their old selves. I feel more like my old self. You seem happier than when I met you but for some reason, that’s a big problem to you. I do not understand that.”

“Leave or I resign and move out first thing,” you said. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “This is my formal resignation then. The company will-”

He moved quickly and you weren’t sure what he was doing at first but soon you realized he was hugging you, your hands resting against his chest. You swallowed and he didn’t move, your forehead resting against him.

“What are you doing?” you breathed out.

“When’s the last time you got a fucking hug?” he asked.

“The kids-”

“Not the kids.”

“I don’t remember,” you said quietly. 

“Then you are overdue,” he said. You let yourself reach your arms around him and return the hug, breathing deeply, a small bubble in you rising up. You tried to push it down but it came back harder and you were fighting back tears before you knew it. 

He could feel when you lost that battle, hand rubbing up and down your back. There was a soft shushing in the air and after a few minutes you felt better. You lifted your head but didn’t look at him, Jensen squeezing you in his hug again before it eased.

“You know you’re not allowed to quit on me...like ever,” he chuckled. You let out a small laugh, Jensen smiling at you when you forced your head up. He wiped off your cheeks and you let out one last sniffle. “You’re not alone. I promise you’re not. It’s not the quantity of people you have in your life but the quality and I’m sorry but we are friends and there’s nothing you can do about that so I’d just accept it now.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”

“You were scared, not a bitch,” he said. “I wish I could make you happier is all.”

“I wish I could bring back your wife for you,” you said.

“One of those is a lot more possible than the other,” he said. A small smile crossed his lips before he ducked his head down, shoulders heaving back before his head raised. “Y/N, can I confess something to you? I hope...I hope it doesn’t bother you but if it does, you don’t have to continue working for me. I’d still like to be friends regardless.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, Jensen looking past you.

“My single friend I was going to set you up with? He doesn’t exist.”

“Oh.”

“Cause he’s kinda me.”

“Oh,” you said, staring at him, a lot of his previous behavior starting to click into place. “That’s…”

“I know,” he said, stepping away and rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s weird and douchey and I’m sorry. I like you and I was trying to see if you would ever go for a 42 year old actor. I left out the widow and kids part but...I’m sorry.”

“When did you like me?” you asked quietly.

“The whole time?” he said, laughing nervously to himself. “It’s kinda snowballed since we met. I never in my life thought I’d like someone again. I didn’t want to like you. I hired you because you were the best candidate and I knew the kids would be in good hands but everyday it’s there, even more, and I know this is so inappropriate on so many levels and I’m really starting to ramble here but you make me think maybe your mom had a point and people are allowed to have...more than one…and sometimes the way you talk to me and treat me and look at me...” 

He swallowed as you stepped in front of him, taking a quick breath. 

“I will keep working for you and I’ll be your friend...and you can make me dinner tomorrow,” you said with a smile. “We’ll see where it goes from there?”

“You’re not...weirded out?” he asked.

“By your age, you’re my boss or the cheeky lying about a fake friend?” you said.

“All of the above.”

“Age doesn’t bother me. You have no idea how to be a boss, no offense, and the friend...I don’t blame you for wanting to test the waters first,” you said. “But I expect honesty from here on out.”

“Absolutely,” he said.

“Good,” you said.

“You do like me right?” he asked. “Like you don’t feel obligated or-”

“I like you Jensen. Why do you think I was trying to push you away before you got too close? I didn’t want to be hurt.”

“Give me a chance to not,” he said. “We can have dinner and see how it goes from there.”

“Normally the best course of action,” you said.

“But maybe with a few more hugs from now on,” he said. “For the both of us.”

“That’d be okay with me,” you said. He smiled and you returned it. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“I guess you will,” he said. He turned to go when he spun back on his heels. “Or we could go back out there, eat way too much dessert and hang out?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Give me a minute to wash up my face.”

“Take all the time you want. I’m gonna change into something more comfortable anyways.”

He left and you washed off your face in the bathroom, drying it off and taking a deep breath.

You did like him. There was something calming about him to you and you enjoyed his company, even if it was just the two of you having a quiet cup of coffee in the morning.

But he was an actor. And kinda famous. And a widow. And had three kids. 

“But your face is cute,” you said aloud, looking the mirror. “Gah, of course you have to be like...into me. Nutjob. He must be a nutjob. That’s it.”

“Y/N?” you heard him saying and you smacked yourself in the face. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said, stepping out and seeing him in the hall sporting a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt. “That was fast.”

“Well I didn’t go through an eight step skin routine too,” he chuckled.

“For your information, my routine is only three steps,” you said, walking past him and waggling your fingers.

“I didn’t realize I was living with such a savage,” he said. You laughed and went back to the kitchen, making up another dish of brownie for him while he went over to where he kept his liquor. “You a bourbon kind of girl?”

“Is there any other kind?” you said.

“Touche.” He poured out two glasses and slid one over while you passed his bowl to him. “So what’s this three step routine? Do I need to up my game or what?”

“I think I need your routine, not the other way around,” you said.

“Nah. I like looking at your face more than mine. Trust me.”

“Oh. How long you been holding back those kinds of comments?” you teased.

“Longer than you’d think,” he said, sharing the bowl with you. “Feel okay now?”

“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time I cried,” you said. “Especially in front of someone.”

“A good cry session has never hurt in my experience. I’ll do it for work and stuff but normally I’m not much of one. Aside from the past six months I mean.”

“Are you ready to try this?” you asked.

“Yeah. I know I am,” he said. “I’m positive of it.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because you make me happy. You make me...want to do stuff again, believe in all the romantic...if I wasn’t ready, I’d feel guilty. But I don’t. I just know that maybe some people get more than one chance and maybe I’m one of them.”

“I know you are, whoever it ends up being,” you said.

“Are you ready to try this?”

You took a drink and bite of ice cream, pushing the bowl back.

“I miss my family,” you said. “I miss being happy. I’d like to...have someone that could take care of me for a moment every once in a while. I might mess that up sometimes but I’m willing to try.”

“Me too,” he said. “I’d expect some screw ups on this end too. I’ve been out of the dating game for a long time.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t changed all that much,” you said.

“Well I’ve never dated with kids and as a widow,” he said.

“I’m just in this for them to be honest,” you laughed. 

“I see how it is,” he said with a smirk. 

“I don’t think it’ll be as hard as you think,” you said.

“I hope not,” he said. 

“Do they know? You want to date?”

“JJ does,” he said. “She’s little but she understands that it doesn’t mean I’ll never love her mother any less. She’s been strangely okay through this whole thing aside from the first few weeks. She helps her brother and sister out more now.”

“As someone who was that kid, minus the siblings, I know they’ll be okay. She’s a great kid. I’ve met plenty of spoiled brats. Yours are not.”

“Well that might just be the second best thing I’ve heard tonight,” he said.

“Whatever was the first?” you teased, eating a spoon of ice cream.

“Oh I think you know,” he said, stealing the spoon back. You smiled and heard some feet run around upstairs before the stairs creeped and a little head ducked down into view. “Arrow. It’s bedtime sweetie.”

“I had a accident,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, honey,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Want help?” you asked.

“Sure,” he said. He scooped up Arrow on the way up the stairs, setting her down in the kids bathroom. He got some clean pajamas and you found a pair of pull ups, Arrow pouting at you. 

“I don’t need ‘em,” she said.

“Your brother wears them. I wore them and your mommy and daddy wore them. Everybody wears pull ups when they’re your age,” you said.

“Just tonight,” she said, stepping into them. Jensen walked past with the mattress liner and she was dressed by the time you heard the washer going off in the distance. You walked her back to bed, Jensen slipping in past you and tucking her in. “Night daddy.”

“Night sweetie,” he said, kissing her temple. 

“Night Y/N,” she said.

“Night night kiddo,” you said, giving her a tiny wave before you left, Jensen flipping off her light and pulling the door shut. 

“Come here a second,” he said, nodding and you saw him head towards his room. The double doors were open and you stepped inside, Jensen going past the bed and over to a set of french doors. He pushed one open and waved for you to follow, showing you out to a rooftop balcony.

“Wow,” you said, a set of chairs, a table and a lounger out there along with a whole lot soft string lights. “I didn’t realize you had this up here.”

“Kinda a place to go unwind, relax,” he said. “I disappear out here sometimes. Been out here a lot at night lately.”

“Thinking about what?” you asked.

“You,” he said. “I talk to Dee about you sometimes as crazy as that sounds.”

“Doesn’t sound crazy at all,” you said.

“I just wanted to say...this area isn’t off limits anymore. Nothing is,” he said. 

“She asked you out, didn’t she,” you said with a smile. He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “You’re cute.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, heading back towards inside.

“Come on, Jensen. Before the ice cream melts on us.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

[neurodiversebones]

autistic brennan !!!

in my autistic opinion... here you go. a SLIGHTLY more organized version of what i have dropped in the DMs of anyone who is willing to listen, copy and pasted from a google doc i have so eloquently named "bones is fucking autistic" !!

this headcanon is like. 95% confirmed, which kind of makes my heart do a little "!!!" <3 idk brennan means a Lot to me and always did as a young autistic afab person :-) so here you go !! (under the cut)

okay SO here is my explanation for my headcanon, explained in bullet points- this took up multiple google docs pages so i hope you're ready

emotional display:

has absolutely zero poker face- we see this frequently. there are too many instances to count where she cannot hide her facial expressions !! it is also referenced by booth in late season 8, and i think a few other characters have mentioned it throughout the series?

this is especially in the earlier seasons, but her response to stress and trauma is Very Neurodivergent. she rarely has an outward response- it's so rare to see her cry before season 7/8 ?? this could also definitely be a trauma thing but like,,, trauma symptoms and autistic traits are unfortunately hard to differentiate between because autistic people tend to go through more traumatic situations

not exactly emotional display, but similar- she clearly has alexithymia, or something of the sort (basically, she struggles to recognize her own emotions). this is exhibited a few times- the one i can remember right now is "i don't understand what i'm feeling" "you understand happy, right?" (conversation with angela, season 9). this is actually something i have rarely seen in a character- at least not done well. it makes me very happy !!!

empathy:

she struggles to understand why others would think differently than her- her view of the world is Correct in her eyes, and she finds it difficult to look from someone else's point of view. this frequently ends in her criticizing those around her- her view of the world is incredibly black and white, so when others disagree with her, she believes they must be wrong.

extension of the black and white thinking- she doesn't understand concepts, no matter how hard she tries. she needs evidence and proof. examples of this would be her views on god/religion, love (pre-season 6), and marriage (pre-season 8)

despite her lack of empathy toward people, she exhibits a lot of empathy toward animals. this is actually a really common autistic trait?? examples of this would be her emotional attachment to the dogs in 4x04, or her explosive reaction to finding out the tiger was killed in 8x04

social/conversational skills:

this is probably her most obvious and easily recognizable autistic trait- it's what made me go "she's autistic" after watching a few episodes

she does not understand jokes or sarcasm very well- she frequently gets confused by jokes, explaining why they aren't funny or don't make sense, especially pop culture jokes. when she does understand jokes or pop culture references, she gets very excited and explains them out loud, even though everyone around her already understands (just adding- i love this so much ?? her explaining jokes is Very Cute. i'm sorry i'm a simple gay who can't go ten minutes without declaring my love for her)

struggles with small talk and social niceties- this is used as a joke in nearly every episode. she doesn't do small talk well- preferring to talk about topics that are actually important or interest her. she doesn't see the need for most social conventions either, which leads to her frequently being seen as rude.

she misses social cues in conversations- she frequently brings up topics that are probably not Appropriate for the setting (talking about dead bodies in a restaurant, talking about sex while standing over a dead body, etc.)

she is incredibly literal, and doesn't understand metaphorical speak. this goes hand in hand with the not understanding jokes- she takes many phrases at face value, sometimes confusing others

tone:

she frequently comes off as cold or blunt without meaning to be- many people read her as "heartless" or just uninterested because of the way she speaks, even when she is very invested.

i don't know how to explain this other than her speaking pattern is Very Autistic- the way she pauses mid sentence all the time, the facial expressions she makes while speaking, it's all autism babey !!!

intense focus on one topic:

okay it's very obvious that her special interests are forensics and anthropology

she gets hyperfocused, often losing herself in her work and putting herself through the ringer for it. she puts her work above (almost) everything, and has stated on multiple occasions that she would be nothing without her work.

she often explains the things around her with references to anthropology and ancient civilizations- she uses these references to explain her feelings, the situations she's in, and frequently, to solve crimes. things make sense to her when she thinks about them like this.

not engaging with peers in an "expected" way:

she is often showed to have difficulty getting close with people- she doesn't like showing emotion to others, and would rather just talk about the task at hand. this could very well be explained by her trauma background- but i believe it's probably a bit of both.

she finds it difficult to bond with her peers over common things, like pop culture, and rather talks about work or other things. she doesn't open up to a lot of people, even those who she is incredibly close with.

other/misc.:

stimming !! this doesn't have enough instances to get its own section, but i like to interpret that wonder woman scene as vestibular stimming, purely because i love to spin and jump !!!!

detail oriented, to the point of obsession. it's common for autistic people to get caught up in the details of things, which she definitely does.

views on sexuality differ from the "norm"- she is very critical of monogamy during the first half of the series, and does not see the point in marriage. also she's definitely arospec, just putting that out there <3

i am autistic and i love her therefore i'm right

final notes:

i think she's one of my favourite autistic characters to exist- i usually despise the socially awkward detective trope, but it's handled well here. the people around her don't expect her to change the innate aspects of who she is- rather, they love her unconditionally (even if they are exasperated at times- which is natural to feel with people that you love)

i very much like that they didn't go with the socially awkward + smart = unattractive trope either- she knows that she's hot, and so do the people around her. i'm so sick of nerdy girls not being allowed to be hot 😭 especially when it comes to autistic-coded characters- let autistic people have sex lives 2k21

she just,,, holds a very special place in my heart. as an undiagnosed autistic afab kid, she meant a lot to me. i saw a woman on screen who was smart like me and sometimes confused people because of her intelligence, who didn't really get social situations, who didn't know how to express how she felt. she was like me- and she loved herself, and people loved her. she's a very important character to me and has been since i was really young <3

thank you SO MUCH to anybody who read this- brennan is the loml and i will infodump about her until the end of time

[xiutingmyself]

Best Friend of my FWB pt. 7 (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Jimin x Reader

Genre: series, a little angsty, smut (not much smut in this chapter tho), fluff, au

Word Count: 4,649

Warnings: not many warnings from here on out, just a little bit of cursing, kissing, slight touching

Summary: You and Jimin have been friends with benefits for a while. Because of that, you’ve met his best friend Jungkook on several occasions. Some of those moments were not so appropriate. But your not-so-existent relationship with Jungkook changes when you work at the same place as him and have to pretend to be his girlfriend.

A/N: This is an angsty and fluffy chapter with very little smut. Almost no smut. Please don’t hate me. Anyway, I hope you like it. It’s the second to last chapter before the series ends. 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Taglist: @erraaxh @bunnybearrj​ @aretha170​ @namjooningelsewhere​

Pt. 7

Jungkook wakes up to the sound of his alarm. He slowly goes to reach for his phone on his night stand when he feels a bit of pressure on his chest. He looks down to see you snuggled up to him, eyes still closed. He smiles at your presence and leans down to plant a kiss on top of your head before he extends his arm to turn off his alarm.

“Is it time for work already,” you mumble against his chest.

He wraps his arms around you and plants another kiss on your head. “Yup.”

You groan. “I wish I can stay with you like this all day.”

“Me too, but we have to go. I don’t want my boss getting mad at me. I heard she can be ruthless.”

You chuckle at Jungkook referencing you. You look up at him with playful eyes. “Yeah? I heard she’ll punish you if you do something wrong,” you wink.

“Will she?” he smiles as he leans down.

“Yes she will,” you giggle as you meet his lips half way.

You break the brief kiss and stretch. “Ok work time.”

You both get up off the bed and look for your scattered clothes.

“Do you want to shower?” asks Jungkook.

You raise a suggestive eyebrow. “What are you trying to ask of me Jungkook?”

Jungkook laughs at your teasing. “I mean do you want to shower first.” Suddenly, he makes his way to you slowly and pulls you close by your waist. “Unless you want to shower together?”

You put your arms loosely around his neck and look up at him. “I’m all about conserving water.”

Jungkook chuckles at your comment and doesn’t hesitate to grab your ass and hoist you up. You both start kissing as he makes his way to the bathroom. He slowly lets you down once you reach your destination.

“As much as I would love to have shower sex,” starts Jungkook. “I don’t think we have time. Plus, we’ll never get to work if that happens.”

You chuckle and nod. “Alright.”  

You both shower peacefully, Jungkook helping shampoo your hair, you helping scrub his back, both of you sharing a few kisses here and there. This is so new to you, showering with someone and it not leading to sex. But you don’t hate it, it’s actually kind of nice.

“Jungkook,” you say as his back is toward you, washing away the conditioner in his hair.

He turns to you as he pushes his wet hair back, looking as hot as ever. “What’s up?”

You take a deep breath to control yourself, before you jump his bones. “I swear you’re like a whole different person now that we’re dating.”

Jungkook cocks his head to side with a laugh. “How?”

“Well first of all, you are like a completely different person in bed.”

Jungkook can’t help but blush at the comment, even if he is standing naked in the shower right in front of you. “What do you mean?”

“You were really possessive last night. ‘Who’s tits are these?’” you mimic with a low voice as you reach over and grab his pecks.

He chuckles as he crosses his arms, attempting to cover himself. “Okay, so? You weren’t complaining last night. ‘Jungkook, right there! I’m gonna cum,’” he mimics you as well with a high pitched voice.

You burst out laughing. “Chill babe. I don’t sound that whiny.”

“You sure about that?” he says as he reaches over discreetly and rubs your clit.  

“F-fuck,” you say breathlessly.

Jungkook chuckles at your reaction as he backs away again into the water.

“Okay whatever,” you mutter as you cross your arms in front of you. “But you see what I mean. You’re suddenly so bold and confident now. You go from shy bunny to sex god.”

Jungkook laughs at your statement. “Why can’t I be both?”

“I mean you can. I’m not saying I don’t like the duality, it just took me by surprise.”

“Well in all honesty, I went all out last night.”

You look confused and chuckle. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook all of a sudden becomes shy and avoids your eyes. “I know I’m not the most sexually forward person and I know that you have a lot of experience. I guess I just wanted to show you that I can be just as good as those other guys and that you didn’t make a mistake dating me.”

Your heart skips a beat hearing Jungkook’s confession. You’re flattered that he wanted to impress you, but you feel bad that he was feeling pressured to perform well and kept comparing himself to others.

You take a step forward and place your hands comfortingly on his chest. “You don’t have anything to prove to me, Jungkook. My feelings for you won’t change because of how the sex is. I’m dating you because I like you, not because you fuck me good, which by the way, you do.”

Jungkook chuckles at your statement and places his hands on your hips.

“Thanks.” He sighs before continuing. “I guess I was also insecure because you said Jimin was the best you ever had.”

Your eyes falter as you nod in understanding. “I forgot I told you that.” You look up at him again and place your hands on his face delicately. “Even if Jimin is the best I’ve ever had, I chose you. He asked me out before you and I said no despite how good the sex is. It should be enough that I changed my whole life style to be with you.”

Jungkook nods and sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just second guessing myself.”

You lean forward to give him delicate kiss on the lip before backing away slowly and looking him in the eyes. “No need to apologize baby, just know that I’m here for the long run. And that’s because it’s you and no one else.”

Jungkook smiles and nods.

You smile back and pat his chest. “Okay now let’s go to work.”

You’re now both dressed, ready, and out the door. “I need to stop by my place to change real quick,” you state as you both make your way down the stairs of his apartment. “And then we can pick up breakfast along the way. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good to me,” he says as you both reach your car.

~

Today has been going great. You’re both working in your respective departments for the time being before meeting up for lunch. Taehyung and Namjoon join you both and you decide to tell them the truth, Namjoon knowing most of it already. But you confirm that you are now officially dating, for real this time, to which they congratulate you both.

It is now after lunch, and you’re all requested to come into the large conference room for some company announcements. You would normally hate these things but if it meant you could stand in the back holding hands with Jungkook, then you were all for it.

It didn’t take long, the company sharing news about how they bought out a smaller competitive company (capitalism everyone). The meeting ended and you both make your way out. You stop in your tracks a couple of feet outside the conference room and turn to Jungkook.

“What do you want to do after work today?” you ask. “And it can just be something simple like ordering take out and watching movies. Or we don’t have to do anything if you’re tired. I know work can be grueling. I’m sorry I give you so much work. You know what forget I said anything.”

Jungkook smiles at your rambling. He’s happy you want to take initiative with this whole relationship thing. He knows it’s still new to you, so he’s more than elated that you’re trying.

He reaches over and holds your hand. “I’m okay with anything as long you’re there. And movies and take out sounds great. Just don’t stress yourself out,” he chuckles.

“Sorry,” you say embarrassed. “I’m still trying to get the hang of this dating thing again.”

Jungkook squeezes your hand supportively. “I know. And I appreciate you trying.”

Before you can continue your conversation, a voice suddenly interrupts. “Hey Y/N,” starts Hoseok. “I think I left my watch at your place yesterday.”

Jungkook’s hand suddenly freezes at his words. Your heart rate picks up at the realization of what Hoseok just said in front of Jungkook.

Hoseok looks from you to Jungkook before clapping his hands. “Oh, did you guys make up? Wow, good for you Y/N. Maybe you won’t be needing me after all.” He pats your back before walking away and saying, “Let me know if you see my watch. It might be on your couch or something.”

And with that Hoseok left, leaving you and Jungkook in silence. You look up at Jungkook to see him looking at Hoseok walk away. You can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to piece together what Hoseok just said. Jungkook then lets go of your hand as the words sink in.

“Jungkook, I can explain,” you start but Jungkook is already walking away from you. You grab his forearm, but he removes it from your grasp. Thank god no one is around, everyone having left the conference room and made their way to their respective offices or cubicles.

“Did I hear him right?” asks Jungkook firmly. “Did he really say he was at your place yesterday?”

You look down avoiding his eyes. “Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

“Well what am I supposed to think,” says Jungkook in a harsher tone. “I was with you in the morning and at night. The only other time he could have been with you is right after I left your place.”

You look up at him, nervously inhaling. “I didn’t know who else to call after I felt like shit for hurting you. I didn’t think Seolhyun wanted anything to do with me and you wouldn’t answer my calls.”

“So this is my fault now?” Jungkook scoffs.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Did you sleep with him?” he asks suddenly.

“No, I promise.”

“Did you both do anything remotely sexual?” he asks pointedly.

You hesitate to answer, opening your mouth to say something, but no words would come out.

“I’m out,” says Jungkook as he walks away from you.

“Jungkook, please,” you beg, but he keeps walking.

You didn’t think that Hoseok would ever interact with you again, let alone in front of Jungkook. How is it that you keep fucking up over and over again? Were you really that hopeless when it came to relationships? That you fuck it up before it really starts. You walk back to your office and bury yourself in your work to distract yourself from the constant guilt of hurting Jungkook once again.

~

“Hey, Kook,” says Namjoon worriedly. “Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t touched your beer.”

Jungkook and Namjoon are at a bar near your job. Namjoon saw that Jungkook was being more anti-social than usual so he invited him for drinks after work.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook sighs.

“You were literally elated earlier today when you and Y/N told us you were dating. How did your mood change so quickly?”

Jungkook grimaces at the mention of your name and Namjoon takes note of that.

“Did something happen between you two?”

“Do you think I should be mad at her for having her ex-boyfriend over right before she came over to my place to make up with me?” Jungkook blurts out.

“I need more details than that,” says Namjoon as he takes a gulp of his beer.

Jungkook takes a swig as well before speaking. “After I stormed out of Y/N place, she invited her ex-boyfriend over, I assume for comfort. She said she didn’t know who else to go to. And they did some . . . things.”

“They had sex?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. I walked away before she could explain,” Jungkook puts his face in his hands and groans. “I don’t know what to do.”

Namjoon pats Jungkook on the back and sighs. “Listen Kook, do you want some big brother advice?”

Jungkook lifts his head up and nods.

“Now this might sound harsh but just remember it’s tough love.” Jungkook looks at Namjoon, not knowing what he’s going to say. Namjoon continues, “I don’t think you have a right to be mad at Y/N. From the sound of it, nothing really happened. And besides, even if they did do some ‘things,’” Namjoon says in air quotes. “You guys weren’t together then. She had every right to do whatever she wanted.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing Namjoon is right.

Namjoon continues, “And at the end of the day, she chose you. Like you said, she’s not the relationship type, but at least she’s trying for you. That’s a lot to ask for and she’s doing the work so she can be with you.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. Namjoon is right. He’s such an idiot. How could he treat you like this after all the effort you have been putting into your relationship with him? And Namjoon had a point, as much as Jungkook hates to admit it, whatever happened between you and Hoseok happened before you were officially dating. So technically, he has no reason to be angry with you. Shit, he’s made a huge mistake.

Jungkook runs a frustrating hand through his hair. “Fuck, I’m such a dumbass.”

“Well,” says a teasing Namjoon. Jungkook nudges him jokingly. “Kidding,” says Namjoon chuckling. “So what are you going to do?”

Jungkook starts putting on his jacket. “I’m going to apologize to her.” He takes out a couple of large bills out of his wallet and puts it on the table. “On me. Thanks again.”

“Anytime Kookie,” says Namjoon smiling.

Jungkook pats Namjoon on the shoulder before walking toward the exit. “Stop calling me that,” he says over his shoulder.

“Never,” chuckles Namjoon.

~

Jungkook is catching his breath outside the door of your apartment. How the tables have turned. He took a cab over to your place and ran up the stairs and is now trying to control his breathing before knocking on your door. He hopes you’re in there.

You slowly open the door and your heart skips a beat, not expecting to see him.

“Jungkook?” you ask in disbelief.

Jungkook immediately lunges forward and embraces you. You stand there frozen, not knowing what exactly is going on.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you,” says Jungkook in your neck, still slightly out of breath. “I had no right to be mad at you over something that happened before we officially started dating.”

You let out a sigh of relief and embrace Jungkook as well. “I’m sorry too.”

Jungkook leans back and holds your shoulders gently. “No, you don’t need to apologize. You don’t need to explain anything to me. I was the asshole who got mad at you for something that wasn’t any of my business.”

“But I understand why you would react that way. I don’t necessarily have the best reputation when it comes to relationships.”

“That doesn’t matter. I trust you, and if you said nothing happened, then I believe you.”

You give him a small smile. You’re not sure if you’re doing this relationship thing right, but as long as Jungkook says he trusts you, then you will do everything in your power not to break that trust.

“So you forgive me?” you ask sheepishly.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you as you look up at him. “There’s nothing for me to forgive. Do you forgive me?” he asks, looking down into your eyes.

“Of course.”

Jungkook smiles as he leans down to peck your lips. “Have you had dinner yet?” he asks.

“Not yet.”

“Would you like to accompany me for dinner?” he asks sweetly.

“Sure,” you smile. “Let me just get dressed. I’ve been sulking in my pajamas all evening.”

“Aww my poor baby,” says Jungkook as he presses small kisses on your lips. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

You chuckle as Jungkook continues giving you kisses, this time all over your face. “It’s okay as long as we’re good now.”

He gives you one final kiss on your lips. “We’re definitely good.”

~

You both leave your apartment and start approaching your car. Jungkook reaches for your hand before you can step off the curb.

“Actually, this place is walking distance from your place,” he says.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he says as he begins slowly leading you to the place, swinging your hands playfully. “I looked up some places around your neighborhood so you wouldn’t have to travel too far.”

“Why are you so cute?” you say, squeezing his hand playfully.

He chuckles. “That’s you babe.”

You both chat aimlessly as you approach the sushi place.

You turn to him. “How did you know I love this place?”

“I may have asked Seolhyun about your favorite places to eat.”

Your heart melts at Jungkook’s efforts. “I really need to step up my dating game. You’re making me look bad.”

Jungkook leans over and kisses the side of your head. “You’re doing amazing. Just keep doing you.”

You smile at his kind words as he leads you into the restaurant.

You both chat carelessly, talking about everything and nothing, while you feed each other, laugh, and just overall enjoy each other’s company.

“Babe, I have a question,” you say.

“What’s up?” says Jungkook as he chews on a spicy tuna roll.

“Why don’t you have sex with people unless you have feelings for them?”

Jungkook freezes momentarily causing you to panic. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want-“

“No, it’s okay,” he says with a small smile. “Now that we’re dating, I want you to know everything about me.”

You nod in understanding, grateful that he wants to open up to you.

“Well, I’m not going to lie, I’ve always been kind of a romantic,” he says, chuckling to himself. “But I initially didn’t have a problem sleeping around. I did it every once in a while during college.”

You gasp sarcastically. “You? My Kookie? Sleeping around? I refuse to believe it,” you say jokingly to ease the mood.

Jungkook chuckles at your joke. “I know! Hard to believe right. But there was this one time I had a huge crush on this girl. I was head over heals for her. And I thought she liked me too. We hit it off really well. And then one day, when we were studying together, one thing led to another and we slept together. And I thought things were going great for us that I decided to stop by her room to ask her out officially. But when I was at her door, I overheard her talking to her friends and laughing, saying she won the bet on whether she can sleep with me or not. Since I was pretty shy, they thought it would have been a challenge for her, so they bet on it. I was so heartbroken and I felt so humiliated that I swore to myself that I wouldn’t sleep with anyone unless I had feelings for them, and they reciprocated it as well.”

You extend your hand and place it over his. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I wish I knew her so I could kick her ass.”

Jungkook chuckles at your threat. “It’s okay. Mina already did that when she heard about what happened.”

You chuckle as well. “Okay I know Mina is a bitch, but that was cool of her to do that. I’m surprised you didn’t date her after that.”

Jungkook cringes. “No thank you. She’s just too obsessed with gatekeeing me.”

“True.” You suddenly sigh. “I’m just jealous I wasn’t the one who kicked that girl’s ass.”

Jungkook smiles. “Well seeing how you left Jin after one punch, lets consider her lucky for not encountering your wrath.”

“Well I’d fight anyone for you,” you say with a smile. “Just stand behind me and I’ll defend you.”

Jungkook smiles. “I mean you’ve been doing that since you got here.”

“And I’ll continue doing it,” you squeeze his hand. “It’s my turn to gatekeep what’s mine.”

Jungkook smiles at how cute you sound wanting to be his knight in shining armor.

You suddenly remove your hand from his and sigh. “I’m sorry this happened to you Jungkook. I realize now the extent of how much I hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t consider how much this could mean to you.”

“Didn’t I say you can stop apologizing now?”

“I know but I feel terrible for making you relive such a traumatic experience.”

“But now you’re making up for it so don’t give yourself such a hard time.”

“I just wish I can punch myself,” you chuckle. “Say the words and I’ll do it.”

Jungkook chuckles as well, “I won’t.” He extends his hand on the table, basically asking for your hand as well. You place yours on top of his before he continues. “Listen Y/N. We all make mistakes and it’s okay. I just made a huge mistake today and hurt you as well. So don’t think that you’re the only one who fucks up because you’re not.”

“I know, but this was something that changed your perspective on how you approach sex forever. And I fucked with that.”

“Well I also hurt you today based on how you approach sex. And I shouldn’t have.” Jungkook squeezes your hand reassuringly. “I know that you secretly hate people assuming things about you and your sex life. And you’re very self conscious of how people view you when they find out about your views on sex. Yet, here I was hurting you on something personal as well.”

You didn’t think anyone noticed your insecurities about how you’re perceived. You’re surprised Jungkook knows this about you without talking to you about it.

Jungkook squeezes your hand and continues. “I forgive you and now it’s time for you to forgive yourself. We’re dating now, and I’m happy. And I hope you’re happy too.”

“Of course I’m happy.”

“Good. Then let’s move on and just be happy together.”

You nod and smile. Jungkook smiles as well and interlocks your fingers together.

“Now let’s finish up so we can get ice cream,” he says with a smile.

~

You’re walking back home, hand in hand, in comfortable silence. You stop once you reach your apartment building. You turn to each other, still holding hands.

“Thank you,” you say. “For dinner. For everything.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he says, slowly pulling you into a hug. “I’m sorry again, for today.”

“Now it’s your turn to stop apologizing,” you say as Jungkook chuckles. “But seriously. We’re good. I’m just so happy you trust me.”

Jungkook leans back slightly to look you in the eyes. “Of course I trust you. You’re my girlfriend.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of the title. This is the first time you’ve officially heard him call you his girlfriend, and not as pretend.

You notice Jungkook’s confused face at your lack of response so you decide to put him at ease. “Sorry, I’m just not used to being called someone’s girlfriend.”

“O-Oh,” Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say to that or know how you feel about it. You can tell he’s worried so you continue.

“It’s still new to me, but I love being called your girlfriend, especially since it’s coming from you.” You go on your tippy toes and reach up to kiss his lips.

Jungkook smiles into the kiss, embracing you more if thats possible. You back away and smile.

“Okay, well. It’s getting pretty late,” you state. “I can drive you home if you want, or you can sleep over mine?”

Jungkook pretends to think about it before saying, “I want to stay with you longer.”

You smile at his response before you grab his hand and lead him in.

~

“Thanks for meeting with me,” says Jimin as he sits down next to you on the park bench.

“It’s no problem,” you say with a small smile.

“You don’t understand how shitty I’ve been feeling. I already called Seolhyun and apologized. I’m sorry for hurting her, for hurting you. I honestly feel awful.”

“You forgot one more person.”

He looks at you confused. “Who?”

“You hurt Jungkook as well.”

“Just because I said he didn’t matter-“

“Yes, because of that,” you interrupt him, feeling defensive on behalf of Jungkook. “Listen Jimin, he’s your best friend. You shouldn’t be treating him like this. He cares about you.”

Jimin scoffs. “If he cared about me, he wouldn’t have gone after the same girl as me.”

“He wasn’t. We were fake dating and he never tried anything with me.”

“Oh cmon Y/N, you seriously can’t see that the kid is in love with you.”

“Well I know that now,” you say. “That’s part of the reason I wanted to talk to you today.”

Jimin looks confused. “What do you mean?”

You sigh before you speak. “I’m dating Jungkook now. For real. We’re no longer fake dating. It’s the real deal.”

Jimin laughs sarcastically. “You’re not being serious right? You said it yourself that you don’t do dating.”

“Well I am, I’m actually dating Jungkook. And I want you to support us, support him.”

Jimin still has a confused look on his face. “Sorry, I’m just finding it really hard to believe. Since I’ve known you, you’ve never shown any indication of wanting to be in a relationship. If anything, you were repulsed by the idea of it. And now all of a sudden, you’re dating my best friend, a week after I confessed to you.”

You laugh to yourself suddenly. “I know. It surprised me too. And you’re right, I wasn’t the dating type and I was repulsed by anything romantic. But Jungkook makes me feel different about the whole thing.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything, unsure of what to say at the moment so you continue.

“And I’m sorry about the timing of it all. I know you just confessed to me and suddenly I’m dating Jungkook.” You reach over and grab his hand in yours. “But I’m really happy with the decision I made. That’s not to say we didn’t have fun times, but I think I’m ready to be committed to only one person, and that person is Jungkook.”

Jimin takes a deep breath. You don’t know what he’s going to say but you know he has something in mind so you wait for his response.

“This is still really shocking to me. And it’s going to take me some time to get used to, as well as get over my feelings for you. But I’m happy that you’re happy.” He squeezes your hand in support. “And to be honest, if you’re going to date anyone that isn’t me, I’m glad it’s Jungkook. You weren’t wrong when you said he’s boyfriend material.” You laugh at his comment, but let him continue speaking. “And I’m happy for Jungkook as well. He managed to get himself an amazing girl.”

You smile at his comment as you lay your head on his shoulder. “Thanks Jimin. Your support means everything. Especially to Jungkook.”

“Yeah yeah,” he says jokingly. “Whatever. Just don’t let me walk in on you guys having sex this time.”

You chuckle at his comment. “Thats on you buddy.”

“Ouch,” says Jimin as he playfully clutches his heart. “Buddy? That knocked me right into the friendzone.”

You laugh at his playful demeanor. You stay like that for a moment, you laying on his shoulder, watching the people pass by you in the park before Jimin speaks again.

“Goodbye sex?”

“Fuck off,” you laugh.

~

A/N: Hope you all liked it. It is finally coming to an end. 

[teeth-farie]

omg wait now that the other ask was talking abt trans demons i’ve been dying to talk about that too 🤭 — 🎪

while working he sometimes gets a little needy while you are around talking to diavolo, loving how professional and appropriate you are dressed for the occasion. he pulls you into the nearest room or bathroom once you’re done attending to the prince. oblivious enough, you dont realize the intentions behind this action just yet, thinking barbatos isn’t feeling well. but the moment you both are behind closed doors, he gives you that needy and vulnerable look as always. and who are you to deny such a gorgeous face infront of you ? you’re quick with your hands and start undoing his pants while your mouth melts into his, just as desperate as he is. the thrill of doing such things in lord diavolo’s welcoming home is exciting for the both of you. you pull down his pants and underwear to find them soaked, a thread of wetness leading to his slicked hole. barbatos whines at the cool air hitting his pussy, but that is soon replaced with your fingers sliding across his folds. he lets out a small gasp and bucks his hips, needy and wanting to feel you. “ mnmh please.. “ he breathes out. you hum in content, wanting to hear more of his noises “ please what? “ your fingers teasingly rub against his aching hole, barbatos shivers, embarrassment slightly settling in. “ hahh,,, please fuck me “. and with that you happily comply.

!!!

I love Barbatos getting hot and bothered by an mc in formal wear. A nice clean outfit that looks so professional and domineering- poor barb has to sit in from of a fan to calm down

He’s so needy! I feel especially so if he’s in heat (referencing the last trans demons post) cause he doesn’t get the full opportunity to feed his instincts considering his work. So he takes a multitude of breaks and pulls you aside so you can fuck him full ♡

[donnerpartyofone]

I often find myself having or avoiding an argument about whether or not I'm photogenic. Basically people always tell you you're photogenic, because admitting that someone is average-looking or unattractive is like against the law and we just don't do that unless we're out to cause harm, even though normalizing it might take the edge off life in general. One reason people say I'm photogenic is that I used to post a lot of selfies; I even made a project out of posting "hot" ones for a minute as a self-esteem experiment, but it required so much time and effort to get even three or four decent photos that I had to stop. It was too tiring, and I could be coated in oily sweat and smeared makeup from the strain before I got more than one ok picture taken. When people tried to use the selfies as evidence of my being photogenic, they would always dismiss or deny my claim that it could take 90 minutes and 100 deleted photos just to get the two or three that they saw, which was painful to me. Why wouldn't the truth matter, why wouldn't it matter how hard I had to try?

I think the other reason people tell me I'm photogenic has to do with the subjectivity barrier. I have an idea of how I need to look for my appearance to be at all publicly acceptable, and it's a hard level for me to reach. Other people don't expect as much from me. They might normally think I'm a 4 in real life, to use the popular scale, so if I'm a 4.5 in a lot of pictures, then they consider me "photogenic", and I can just never connect to their perspective because I don't know what their starting point is. In fact, I'm often insulted and embarrassed by what other people think are "good pictures" of me, but I have to suck it up because they think they're being nice. You may feel very comfortable "knowing" that someone else is a 4 without giving it a second thought, but your perception of your own attractiveness can be extremely mercurial, unless being hot is a standard part of your lifestyle or job, and you're constantly referencing it for whatever practical reason. Otherwise your self-perception can change by the minute.

One time in college, my crazy party girl roommate took a flash photo of me on a disposable camera, while I was cowering on the top bunk as she and her friends got ready to go out. Later that week, I came home to find the photo lying on my bed. It might have been the ugliest picture I've ever seen of anyone, still. My long stringy hair was draped around my pale, clammy face with zits popping out everywhere, the shadows of my puffy cheeks cast dark circles under my bloodshot eyes, and you could see all of my upper gums and the roof of my mouth, but none of my lower jaw. I looked like a Halloween decoration. I wasn't sure why she gave me the picture. Did she want me to know that she hated me? Why not just throw it away?

Ten years later, I attended the wedding of two of the most attractive people I've ever met in my life, to this day. I was at their house one day when they happened to be going through their photos from the event, which they planned to make print-on-demand books out of. Inevitably, they had one of the all-time ugliest photos of me; it was only worse than the other one because it was a full-body shot of me in an extraordinarily unflattering strapless dress, which had been previously assigned to me for another wedding (I just didn't own any clothes that were appropriate and I couldn't afford anything new), plus I was being forced to DANCE and really struggling. I jumped when I saw the picture, like it was something from a horror movie, and I begged the guy to throw it out. He furrowed his brow and pouted, "What? But why? Aaaaaawwww, but you look nice! Why don't you like it?" I had to tell him several times that it would mean a lot to me as a friend if he didn't use the picture, and then his wife came through the room, saw what was happening, and said, "Dude, NO!!!" I was so profoundly grateful to her for admitting I looked ugly, and so disturbed that maybe her husband thought this was a normal, representative picture of me.

I'd love to never think about any of this appearance-based stuff, obviously it is far from being the point of my life, but it's just such a hard topic to avoid. It probably feels easier when you have an identifiable purpose in life, but I'm still trying to figure that part out.

[youngbeezer]

6.he teaches me something with Mat brazal maybe teaches you a few guitar chords since he can play acoustic guitar after Jordan Eberle teaching him a bit plus him teaching himself also

Referenced Post

Prompt -- 6. He teaches me something (w Mat Barzal)

A/N: Here's another blurb from the 14 oddly romantic things blurb set. Sorry this is kinda late I've been slacking a little. This weekend is gonna be busy for me as well so I'm not sure how many blurbs I will be able to finish...

Thanks for requesting this, hope you like it :)

Word Count: 920

Warning(s): A curse word or two, mention of alcohol,,, ok I know like literally nothing about playing the guitar so if I got anything wrong or it's confusing I am so sorry!!

Join my taglist :)

“Who the hell are all these people? ” I lean over to whisper into my boyfriend’s ear.

We are currently at one of our best friends, Anthony Beauvillier’s house to celebrate his birthday. There are at least 100 people here all crowded around, drinking and dancing to someone’s playlist. I think I have maybe recognized a total of 10 faces tonight.

My boyfriend Mat gives me a little shrug and then pulls me even closer into his body as two drunk partiers plow their way through us and into the kitchen. I grimace as one of the guys’ drinks sloshes over the brim of his cup and onto my boots. I feel like I’m at a frat party right now, and I am not enjoying it.

“I didn’t know Tito had this many friends.” I remarked.

Mat lets out a little chuckle before bringing his mouth closer to my ear to be heard over the thumping music.

“He doesn’t. He just wanted to look cool.”

I once again scrunch my face up in annoyance when someone goes a little too hard dancing and knocks into my shoulder.

Mat scowls at the oblivious partygoer and grabs onto my hand, dragging me into one of the hallways. Trailing behind him, I watch as Mat begins searching through the few rooms in the hall. After walking in on another couple ‘hanging out’, Mat finally finds an empty room.

I go to sit on the bed while Mat locks the door. I raise my eyebrows at him when he turns around to face me.

“What are you planning to do Mathew?” I teased.

He smirks before replying back, “I just figured you wanted to get away from the noise and crowd. Why? Do you have other plans in mind?” He wiggles his eyebrows as he slowly prances over to where I am sitting on the edge of the bed. I roll my eyes at his antics and begin to search the unknown room.

“Whose room are we in anyway?” I questioned.

“Beau’s.”

“Really? Why does he have a guitar? Does he even know how to play that?”

Mat scoffs. “No. Once again, he just wants to look cool.”

Mat makes his way over to where the acoustic guitar was chilling in the corner of Anthony’s room collecting dust. He picks it up and goes to sit down on the desk chair. It looks like he was just messing around a little, but next thing I know my boyfriend is strumming out beautiful notes on the guitar.

My eyes widen and my jaw goes a little slack.

“What the hell. I did not know you knew how to play the guitar?!” I burst in both astonishment and confusion.

He chuckles a little bit before revealing, “I know a thing or two. Ebs taught me a few basic skills at one point and I decided to try and stick it out and learn a few more.”

I take a moment to admire the sight before me. Mathew Barzal holding a guitar all concentrated and sexy. I watch the way his hands glide along each and every string, zoning in on the veins protruding out with each movement. I watch the way his eyebrows furrow and his tongue just barely sticks out of his mouth in deep concentration trying to remember what Jordan Eberle taught him.

“You’re so hot.” I breathe out.

He lets out a deep belly laugh at my statement. He looks over at me and gestures to his lap.

“C’mere. Let me teach you something.”

I stroll over to where he is sitting and let him pull me into his lap. He sets the guitar on my thigh and guides my hand to the appropriate position.

I feel his breath hit the exposed skin on my neck as he explains each string, “Ok, so the first string is E. Then it’s A, D, G, B, and then E again.” I test out each string as he says the letter. He gives me a little kiss on my neck and then rests his chin on my shoulder. “Now put your thumb right here… Yeah like that. Ok. Then go ahead and strum. That’s B4.”

I look over my shoulder back at him and give him an excited smile. He grins back at me and I notice his gaze lower to my lips. He closes the gap between us and connects our lips together. His lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly, allowing my tongue to slip inside. Just as our tongues start to tangle together fighting for dominance, we are interrupted when the door slams open.

Tito comes strolling into the room in search of something. He flinches in surprise when he notices our presence and lets out a startled, “Oh shit.”

He pauses and assesses the situation before blurting, “Wait! Were you guys about to just have sex in my room?!” Tito yelped.

“Well not anymore,” Mat teased.

I let out a little tut and smacked Mat in the chest as he let out a little giggle. He gives me a quick little peck and mumbles softly against my lips “I’m kidding.”

Tito’s face scrunches up in fake disgust and mutters out, “Keep it in your pants Barzy. We don’t need any little ones running around just yet.” He gives me a cheesy little wink and leaves the room.

I roll my eyes and laugh at our friend's behavior.

Mat pats me on my thigh and gives me another little grin.

“Alright. Now let's try the chord G6.”

Tagging some people so this doesn't flop,,,

@tessisawriter @joelsfarabeee @bitchforbarzy @musiclove-12 @barzy-xoxo @matbarzys @matbarzls @gigissports @sorokns @turcsandzegras @barzysreputation @cherrylita @matsbarzals @heybarzy @hoeforaho

[sdv-mostly-shane]

not sure if this has been asked or written before, but what a about a 'sort of cryptid like farmer' and shane? a farmer that's just a little bit more on the non human side kinda thing, if thats alright

A special Spooktember treat for you guys- I hope you enjoy. Been saving this one until it was appropriately close enough to spooky season. Also- TIL that goblincore is a quite delightful aesthetic-read til the end to get the full ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:* vibes *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ they’re feral AND charming.

Just Goblin Things

Summary: There’s something sinister in Cindersnap Forest, and Shane is the one to come face to face with the creature. What he finds is a more than just a little magical, and he can’t wait to discover more.

Trigger warning : very brief, vague insinuations of alcohol; general spookyness.

“Seb, how many more until we can go back to my house?’

“Just a minute, Sam. I can hear one croaking just over there…“

“Yoba, what was that!-look, there in the bush!” A flash of green had caught Abigails eye, followed by a loud scrambling noise. She pushed herself off the ground, using Sam’s shoulder as a boost, and leaped toward the sound, searching for its maker.

“What kind of frog was that?”

“I didn’t even see anything. Probably just some raccoon or something.” They watched Abby crawl around a small thicket of bushes, peeking in between branches as she went. “Leave it alone, Abby, you don’t want to catch rabies.”

“Raccoons don’t have green eyes, Seb,” she said, as she perked her head up to listen to a faint crinkling of leaves. “Listen, do you hear that? It almost sounds like.. hissing?”

“What, like a snake?”

“No, like a-AH!” Abby shrieked, and fell back. The two boys ran towards her. “No, get back, it might see you!” She was referencing the massive pair of green speckled eyes that were now accompanied with a gnarly, toothy grimace emerging from the bush. From it, came an ungodly snarling and hissing.

“Alright, time to go,” Seb yanked the two teenagers away from the creature, and they started to run. Once they had made it inside Sam’s house, the trio slammed his bedroom door and jumped on the bed. They sat for a moment in silence, listening to each other’s panting breath. Abby began to say something, but Sebastian interrupted, “we’re not gonna talk about it. Just don’t-nothing happened. We didn’t see anything. Got it?” Abby huffed in frustration, and protested with him, arguing that they needed to get back out there and figure it out. All Sam could do was stare at his floor, stunned at what had just happened.

The next day, Sam went to start his shift at the Joja Mart on edge from the night before. Shane was working the freezer when he spotted him-he had picked up a packaged of individually sealed pancakes seven minutes ago and was still staring at it, unmoving. “Uh, you alright, bud?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it…” His voice seemed far away, but he managed to finally move, making to put away the product. He turned to him, “Shane, you live in Cindersnap Forest. Have you ever seen anything… weird… there?”

“You mean besides Mayor Lewis sneaking out the back window and crawling around the house, thinking I can’t see him?”

“What?”

“No, never seen anything.”

“Well we did, Abby, Seb, and I, last night.”

“And?”

“Well, nothing really actually happened-it just scared us, really. Made a really ugly sound and showed it’s teeth to us. It must have just been some animal… but the thing is… gah, I can’t even say it.”

Shane tossed a bag of multipurpose detergent at him, demanding, “C’mon, say it.”

“Ouch, Yoba, alright. I didn’t tell the others, but when we were running away, I looked back and.. and well, I saw it run away and it was on two legs like a person.”

“Hah, okay you got me. There’s nothing in that forest, kid, don’t think about it too much.” Shane slapped the back of Sam’s shoulder, bidding him to just do his work, and went about finishing the stocking. He’d look over, occasionally, to see the golden-haired teen zoned into space again, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to really care at that point; he just needed to get through his shift.

______________________________________________

Shane looked at his phone-11:26 PM. He’d gone out, not able to sleep, and forced himself to take a cold walk through the woods to avoid the saloon. Shivering, not just from the cold, he made his way over to the edge of the lake. He enjoyed watching the little sparkling fish swim, their silver scales glisten underneath the shallow water… Swishing and splashing and crashing-crashing? He flipped his body around to see the source of the crash-in front of the big tree, in a disheveled pile, sat the farmer. They were brushing the leaves out of their hair and dusting off their knees.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh! Goodness, Shane, you scared me.”

“You’re the one who fell out of the tree.”

The farmer finger-gunned, “You got me there,” and stood up, gathering the belongings that tumbled from their satchel.

Shane watched them, and smirked at seeing them covered in Earth matter-leaves, moss, dirt-it all seemed to have managed to stick to them as they tumbled down the tree. “You’re covered in dirt.”

“Oh, yeah I am.” The farmer brushed off their apron and body. Dirt, rocks, and leaves fell from their arms, but the moss stayed firmly attached.

Now with a clear view, Shane could see that their skin wasn’t quite right. It looked jaundiced from their shoulders down, where the color faded to a sickly vibrant green down to their finger tips. The moss had attached itself to their elbows and seemed to grow down to their fingertips. As the farmer moved about, their arms coming in and out of scattered streaks of moonlight, he could almost see it blinking at him. Was it growing on their arm? He blinked trying to make sense of it, “No, no I meant your arms have-“

“Oh, Hey Franklin.”

Shane’s jaw hung open on his words. Emerging from the Farmers.. arm moss?.. emerged a little frog. It opened and closed its mouth a few times before letting out a tiny ‘ribbit’.

“Yeah, I found this little guy a few weeks ago and he just didn’t want to leave. He likes to come with me on our nightly mushroom hunts.” Franklin went cross eyed as he focus on a little bug flittering past before catching it with a satisfying crunch. “Oh, that was a good one, Frankie.”

“Okay I’m gonna go now,” Shane regained control of his jaw, resolutely shoved his hands in his pockets, and started to turn away.

“Wait! You’re not gonna tell anyone my secret are you?”

“Tell them what, that you keep a secret frog hidden somewhere in your arm?”

“No, everyone should know about Franklin, he’s precious. I meant-you know what, can I just show you?” The farmer reached out their hand in an offer for Shane to grab.

He hesitated-he only barely knew the farmer, having really only seen them run past him at full speed with a pick axe held high above their head-but he was in desperate need of a distraction tonight.

The farmer, seeing his reservation, offered up, “come sit down with me, I’ll make us some tea.”

“I don’t drink tea.”

“Well I’ll tell you some of my other secrets?”

He was in too deep now, his curiosity overtaking his tentativeness, “Alright.” He accepted their hand; his fingertips flexed atop their hand, cushioned by the lush, damp covering of green.

Holding his hand, they led him to their crash-landing zone under the tree, where they sat down. As the farmer sat, legs tucked into each other, Shane thought he saw their body hesitate mid-air for half a second. He then was sure that he saw a little fairy ring of mushrooms pop out of the ground with a glimmering puff of orange dust as the farmers body finally made contact with the ground.

“Please, sit.” Shane pretended to not be concerned, but the farmer smiled to themselves as they spotted him cautiously glancing down to the ground as he gingerly lowered himself to sit. Satisfied, the farmer opened up their satchel and pulled out their trinkets for tea-two wooden cups, a shiny silver teapot with a mismatched spoon, and a box of vials and jars. Opening, smelling, taking, and closing the little jars, they began to make the tea. The beautiful earthy colors of the roots, grasses, and leaves peeled out over the edge of the cups. Craning their body, they reached over to the other circle of mushrooms where they crashed, and plucked a purple one.

As they filled the teacups, Shane watched in horror as the they grasped a moth straight out of the air, ripped a wing off, and shredded it into the two cups. He hoped to Yoba the ‘tea’ was done, but they pulled out one final vial. Swallowing, he asked, “Who’s hair is that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The farmer pick up the teapot, cradling it in their palms. As the silver started to glow red hot, the farmers hair flew up, standing straight when the teapot began to steam. They poured the hot water into the cups.

“Okay, I get it, I know what this is.”

“What is?”

“I just had a few too many today, and I’m actually just super hammered right now and it’s making me see things. I’m gonna go to bed, now”

“But I didn’t see you at the saloon today?”

“Well, no, but if I think about it too much I’m gonna freak out a little bit,” he pushed his hands off to stand, “so I’m just gonna say that this isn’t real and-“

The farmer reached out their hand to him once more. He stood, frozen, as he watched twigs emerge from their fingertips, growing into branches, followed by leaves, and finishing with a delicate flower unfurling inches away from where he stood.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Take it.”

“Take it? But it’s.. attached.”

“Just take it,” the farmer smiled.

He picked it, cupping it in his palms, and brought it to his chest. He watched in awe as the flower petals began to sway, and tiny white fairies sprouted from the pollen. Transfixed, he stood holding his breath as the hazy creatures danced around the petals.

While he watched, eyes big and lit up, the farmer quietly pulled out from their satchel a little carved wooden chair. While Franklin hopped down and plopped onto the chair, the farmer plucked another tiny mushroom, removing the stalk, and tipped a mini-portion of tea from their cup into the cap. They handed it to Franklin who busied himself with dunking his head in and out of the tea and screaming into it.

Shane, remembering his need to breathe, finally gasped and attempted to sputter something intelligible out, but just as he thought of a semi-formed sentence, the dancing fairies suddenly burst into a frenzy of colorful fire. They continued their elaborate dance until the last of them fizzled out, and there was nothing left of the dancing flower except misty smoke and white ash.

“You can keep that-here, pour it into here,” they handed an empty vial to Shane, “sprinkle it on your doorstep and it’ll protect you and your loved ones.”

He did as he was told, not even questioning it at this point-he wanted to know more and how and why and what. Finished, he sat back down, facing the farmer, watching them lift the teacup to their lips. “So uh, does the tree thing happen a lot, or just at night, because I’ve seen you during the day and it doesn’t look like that.”

“No, you’re right, see the thing is, it’s when I- HHREEEEEEEEEK!”

Shane tumbled back in shock, catching himself with his elbows and hands. The farmer had let out an awful screech, showing their (formerly enchanting smile) now fanged row of gnarly teeth. In an instant, their eyes grew and melted into dinner plate-sized puddles of green. Shane yanked his head to match the direction of the farmers leer, where he saw a scruffy-looking opossum attempting to sneak their grubby hands around Franklin. The caught-and foiled-thief returned the farmers screech with a feral ‘hiss’ of its own, before it clambered back into dark bushes.

As quickly as the transformation happened, the farmer returned to normal just the same, meeting Shane’s stunned eyes with their own-now regular sized-smiling eyes. “Can’t be letting Franklin become someone’s snack, now can we?” They laughed and smiled to themselves, giving Franklin a little finger pat.

He was stunned, again. He blinked his way around the farmers face and body, searching for something that would make sense of his feelings. Was it repulsion? Fascination? Perhaps even a little attraction? The farmers little twinkling laugh would normally be very charming to him, but the circumstances of it were overwhelmingly frightening… if not still partially alluring. He settled his searching to focus on their smile-they offered it up so freely to him.

The farmer had waited for him to get settled back into a relaxed position before they continued, “Now what was it you were asking me, dear?”

“I was asking about your arms, that they normally aren’t literal trees,” he stoped, “dear?”

“Well, yeah. We’re friends now, aren’t we? Would you prefer me to call you something else?”

“… no, that’s fine.”

They sat together for a few moments in silence while the farmer drank their tea, and Shane gathered the courage to at least sip the leafy moth water. (It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad. He swished his tongue around his mouth to feel for any fuzzy winged remains, but couldn’t find any. It was smooth, and still hot. While he pondered, Franklin made a few flighty hops over to where his foot was resting, and jumped up onto his sneaker-he was trying to bite the laced up shoestrings.

He let out a little laugh-what a strange little animal. He looked up at the farmer and thought ‘what a strange little.. goblin.’ He let himself stare a bit-they didn’t seem to mind. They had taken off their hat by now, and revealed a pair of little pronged antlers that were hidden underneath. They were encrusted with clusters of crystals, which glittered with every turn and tilt of the farmers head. He continued to drink his tea, getting more accustomed to it with each sip, and watched the scattered moonlight refract off the crystals onto the ground. There, where the prismatic light met earth, a misting of teeny white flowers sprouted and bloomed. Shane had always been appreciative of the wonders of nature, but he had never seen it this beautiful. The farmer seemed connected to the earth, each breathing life into the other. It was humbling. And it-they-were beautiful.

The farmer finally caught his eye, and looked down, now a bit embarrassed. They didn’t mind the scrutiny-it wasn’t out of judgement, they knew, just curiosity. Truth be told, the feeling was more of self consciousness than anything. It was always daunting to show anyone their true selves, but to Shane? His gaze was so honest and searching that it was intimidating. Still feeling his eyes on them, the farmer briefly looked up through their lashes to give him a shy smile, and then turned their attention to the lake.

Shane broke the silence, “Any other goblins in their you wanna tell me about,” he motioned to the lake.

“Nah, that lake is occupied already.”

“Ah, I was just playing. Of course, it’s occupied with fish.”

The farmer was silent

He turned to them, only slightly panicky, “With fish right?”

“Mmhmm yeah fish, lots of fish.” They pursed their lips tight and took a nervous sip of their already empty tea.

Shane squinted to the water, studying it, and caught a glimpse of some bubbles rupturing on the distant surface. He scooted closer to the farmer.

With the shoulders pressed up against each other, the farmer reassured him, “Don’t worry, I got you,” and took hold of his hand.

Shane eased his body deeper against their shoulder with a sigh. He took a peek at the farmer’s face just in time to see an attractive blush warm their cheeks. He smiled, and rubbed his thumb over the tops of their knuckles. They sat together, watching the lake, while the moon rose higher in the sky.

“Did you call me a goblin?” The farmer broke the trance.

Shane let out a hearty laugh, “What other kind of magical creature sneaks around in the dark and scares neighborhood children?”

The farmer returned the laugh, and finger gunned once more, “you know what, you got me there again, Shane.” The pair filled the foggy air with the sound of their laughter, pushing their bodies still even closer together.

“If you don’t want your cover blown, you should probably stop doing that, you know, screeching at teenagers.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” the farmer said with a small growl and a wink.

It was Shane’s turn to blush, now. He looked down at their hands, still cupped together, and smiled. “What other magic secrets do you have?”

“ ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:* Let me show you.*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ “

[draconic-ichor]

Drive

Dabbles

Kolt x Tamlin

The boys have to take a drive to the nearby town for plumbing parts. Tamlin opens up a bit on the way

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes

I love these boys man…

Tamlin looked at the dirty dishes in the sink, frowning. He grabbed the sponge, squeezing a good amount of dish soap onto it. Turning on the sink he prepared to start washing.

Just then he heard a much louder sound of water than he should of, pausing to listen.

Dirty water gushed from beneath the cabinets, soaking his feet.

“Shit!” He yelled, rushing to turn off the water. He knelt down to open under the sink, finding everything wet.

Hearing the commotion, Kolt padded in curiously. His curls were a mess as sleep still hung on him.

“I’m going to have to call someone…” Tamlin sighed, looking at the busted sink.

“Why?” Kolt asked.

“Look at it!” The other’s voice was tinged with distress, “I can’t fix this.”

“I can try.” Kolt offered, already rolling up his sleeves.

“You can fix plumbing?” Tamlin’s voice was thick with skepticism.

“I’m better with electrical work, but this shouldn’t be too bad.” Kolt admitted.

“It looks like a busted tailpiece. A new one and maybe some new coupling nuts and this should be good to go.” Kolt commented, turning to ask, “You have any hardware stores around here?

“It’s a drive.” Tamlin answered.

“Faster than ordering them online.” Kolt pointed out.

They got dressed in more appropriate clothes, climbing into Tamlin’s truck. Kolt fiddled with the hanging air fresheners until Tamlin swatted his hands away. They started the drive to the nearest town in awkward silence, neither reaching for the radio.

Kolt tried to stir up conversation, “Does your prosthetic fuck with driving?”

Tamlin glanced at him from the corner of his eye, answering simply, “No.”

“Okay..”

“I don’t use my left leg to drive.” Tamlin went on, “But I lost the leg before I learned how to drive…so it’s the only way Iv known.”

The small tidbit of his past made Kolt hungry for more, not getting many opportunities when the other seemed to want to open up.

“How did you loose it?” Kolt ventured.

He saw Tamlin’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, knuckles turning a bit white. When no answer came and the awkwardness blanketed over the truck thickly once more Kolt mentally hit himself for overstepping.

After what felt like an eternity Tamlin’s voice came quietly, something hidden in his tone, “Bone infection.”

Kolt nodded, looking at Tamlin’s face. There was more, he knew it, just by the way far off look that pooled in the other’s dark eyes.

“My Pa is really good at making prosthetics for people. Iv seen him make a few.” Kolt changed the subject slightly, filling the silence, “Used to work in the medical field before I was born…and he really likes metalworking now.”

“Is that how you knew I had one?” Tamlin asked, referencing their first meeting.

Kolt remembered being able to sense the metal under the other’s clothing, inquiring about it before thinking. Not about to tell him how he truly knew, Kolt lied, “…yea.”

They finally neared the town, it wasn’t much too look at and if you blinked your could miss driving right through it. Tamlin pulled into the small hardware store that doubled as a feed store.

Kolt felt very out of place in his dark duster coat and glossy boots.

It didn’t take him long to find everything, the parts fairly commonplace. They made the purchases before heading back out to the parking lot.

“Can we get something to eat?” Kolt asked, looking towards a small dinner.

“We have food at home.” Tamlin didn’t pause, getting into the truck and starting it.

Kolt huffed, climbing into the passenger seat. “You really know how to treat a guest…”

“You’re not a guest.” Tamlin rolled his eyes, pulling back into the road, “You are a mooch that is working to fix his mess in exchange for a bed to sleep in.”

“Always using such flattering words for me.” Kolt teased, “Gettin me all hot and bothered over here.”

He chuckled at the warning look, Tamlin gave him.

“Why are you always like this?” Tamlin grumbled, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Horny?”

“No, insufferable.” The other corrected.

“It’s a gift.” Kolt shrugged, looking out the window chewing a bit at his nails.

[lovebugs-and-snakecharmers]

LBSC Sprint Challenge 7/28-8/4/2021

The LBSC Sprint Challenge is now open for writers and artists! Our theme is Summer this week, the prompts as suggested and voted on by our discord groups are:

1. Can't take the heat (heat wave, suffering in the heat, oh no s/he's hot--be generous with your interpretations of ‘heat’) 2. Summer Storms 3. Beach Week 4. "I tried one of these mermaid swimsuits in the beach and now a merboy/girl thinks I'm a mermaid too, and I think s/he likes me?!" 5. Cooling off in a kiddie pool 6. “I hate summer.” 7. Wildcard - pick any of the prompts available from our sister blog, @mlweeklyprompts, or any previous challenge prompt.

You have until Wednesday, August 4 to complete your 3 15-minute sprints/45 minute art sprint and post the results. Once you’ve completed the sprints, you have 24 hours to edit (which can include some new writing to smooth transitions and make it feel complete, and whatever work you feel appropriate to get your art to a state you consider ‘finished’).

Please note you may sprint in the language of your choice, and you can either translate the final fic before posting, post it in the original language, or both as you choose. You can join us on the sprint challenge discord or sprint on your own! Just be sure to tag @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers in your final post so we will see it and reblog it. The rest of the rules can be found here under the cut.

Rules!

We’ll post a beginning and end date to the challenge, and a prompt.

Writers, If you choose to participate in the event, write for that prompt in up to three 15 minute sprints. No writing outside the sprints until you have completed all three! After the 3 sprints are complete, you have 24 hours to edit (which can include some new writing to smooth transitions, etc). You can also choose to break that 45 minutes up differently if you find a different split works better for you.  After those 24 hours, post what you’ve got. Tag your posts with @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers so we can reblog it to the LBSC blog. If you post your work on AO3 or somewhere other than Tumblr, you can leave a link in our ask box or in the appropriate discord channel so we can be sure to promote it. You’ll have approximately one week to complete the challenge, with the goal being for everyone’s work to be posted by the designated challenge end date.

Artists, you have 45 minutes to sketch and 24 hours to do any cleanup or coloring you’d like to complete. You can split your 45 minutes up however you like, or not at all. There’s no requirements on your finished piece, just aim for whatever goal seems challenging but achievable to you. See additional challenge rules below. 

If you’re wavering as to whether or not you think you can accomplish anything in 45 minutes, we really encourage you to give the challenge a try. You may be surprised what you can do! Feel free to join us in the discord linked above so we can encourage and cheer you on.

Obviously, this has to run a bit on the honor system and we won’t be tracking your times, but please do your best to honor the spirit of the challenge! If your sprint fic becomes an Entire Thing (these things happen sometimes) and you want to continue it, feel free! However, please still post whatever you’ve got after your 3 sprints with the tag. No fair busting out a fully polished fic or art without showing us what it looked like at the challenge stage!

Feel free to sprint in whatever language is most comfortable to you! You can post it in your own language or translate it before posting, or both!

We want to keep this a positive space and event! This does NOT mean that you can’t write or draw anything critical of a character or episode, but it isn’t the space for character bashing or hate either. Please keep the characters in character and save the more speculative work for another time. NSFW sprint works are permitted but must be tagged appropriately (please use “NSFW LBSC sprint challenge” for easy filtering on the blog) and with appropriate warnings.  (More FAQ about the process here)

This is a Lukanette blog and a Lukanette event, so while Lukanette does not need to be the main ship, it needs to at least be included or referenced and considered endgame (in other words, they don’t have to be together by the end of your work, but the intent is that they’re headed in that direction). The decision about what qualifies for reblog rests solely with the LBSC moderators. If a piece hasn’t been reblogged within a couple of days, either the mods felt the piece didn’t meet the criteria or it was simply missed; you are welcome to reach out in the asks to inquire which. There are plenty of other spaces out there for other ships and OT3s, and people are welcome to use the challenge rules and prompts to write for their own ships! They just won’t be reblogged to the LBSC blog, and we ask that you please not use the event tag (a modified form is fine - “InsertAlternateShipName sprint challenge” instead of “LBSC sprint challenge,” for example).

Happy sprinting!

[whatanoof]

Cold Hands and Warm Bodies

Merry Christmas! This is a Secret Santa gift for @autumnleaves1991-blog!

There’s a sequel now!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Whiskey x Reader

Word Count: ~4.7k

Content: fluff, dancing, swearing, oral sex(female receiving), rougher sex, fluffy, smut, there’s a part at the beginning where Reader rejects a man’s advances but it doesn’t get past name-calling

A/N: I liked the idea of a lonely Christmas in a new city turning into something much better through unexpected events, especially since so many are going to be celebrating with less people than normal due to the pandemic. The music referenced is Gasoline by Halsey from her Badlands album.

Your parents had begged you to not complete the move over the holidays, surely it could have waited a couple of weeks so that you could celebrate with your family. But you were decided, and the timeline of your new employment was not up to you. Staying in LA for Christmas wouldn’t have benefited anyone. The confidential nature of your job meant you couldn’t talk about your job with your family, and that’s all that families really want to know besides if you have a boyfriend yet. This left more rumors flying between the aunts than bullets around a battlefield. At this point, you’re pretty sure that your own mother thinks that you’re a prostitute.

Alcohol is an easy option to curb loneliness. The drink burns on the way down, but you savor it. It’s been cold in the new city, and you haven’t been able to shake the chill since moving. Your current choice of atmosphere is the bar closest to your house, leaving you with the freedom to slam as many drinks as would let you forget how alone you are at the time of year when no one should be alone. You don’t have to drive home this way. But now, inside and looking around at the excessive Christmas decorations, you begin to wonder if this was the best way to avoid the holidays.

There are Christmas wreaths all around, draped over as many surfaces as possible. Mistletoe hangs near the corners of the cleared section of floor, and you wouldn’t be surprised if some of those corners were soon occupied by drunk dancers. Lights dangle over the bottles behind the bar, and the bartender is wearing a Christmas elf headband. And to top it all off, most everyone inside has a partner, making you stick out like a sore thumb. Your sole point of luck is that the bar isn’t Western based. 

“Well, hello good-looking.”

The moment is shattered by the stranger’s arm around your shoulders, pulling you too close for the small amount of liquor in your body. The brunette man smells like spearmint, but his breath clearly reveals his state of mind. 

“The name’s Grey. Now, I heard a little birdie that told me that you’d be coming home with me tonight.” His grin appears genuine, but something glitters in his eyes that sends an icy distrust through your gut.

You turn away. “No thank you.” Better not to give him any attention, drunks are never reasonable if you let them believe for even a second that they have a chance.

“Now that’s not very kind. I was being civil, and you rebuff a poor man who just wants a warm bed tonight. May I at least get the lady’s name so that I can address her properly? Where’s the Southern hospitality? ” You catch a concerned look from the bartender, though there’s no need to worry. This isn’t your first rodeo.

“Nonexistent, Grey.” You grab his wrist, yanking it off of your shoulder. 

For a blissful second, the contact is gone, then it returns, and now his fingers are digging into your bare skin. His hands are cold. The handheld taser in your pocket is burning, and you reach for it as he snaps, “Now, there’s no need to be a bi--”

“Hey now,” The new voice is sudden, but there’s a distinctive Southern drawl to the baritone voice that sends pleasant tingles down your spine. Now that is a voice that you could listen to the rest of the night. “The lady said no. And last I checked, Southern hospitality doesn’t apply when said person isn’t Southern.” 

The arm around your shoulders vanishes and you slowly reach for your bag. Angry voices echo behind you, but you’re too preoccupied with leaving to worry yourself with the brewing argument. Goddammit you had only come for drinks, and now you might have to duck out before a fight starts.

But the angry voices lower and the normal barroom din returns. You slowly release your bag to rest once again at your feet, and a new man appears on the stool at your elbow. 

“Good evening.” It’s the rumbling voice of your faceless Southern gentleman. 

He saved you, but that doesn’t mean you can trust him. Feigning disinterest is more difficult now, but you take a sip of your drink and focus hard on how the light from the glass catches the amber liquid. “Thank you for stepping up. Doesn’t happen often.” 

“Unfortunately. Mostly for the men if you end up pulling that taser.” The casual observation catches your attention.

You turn and finally look your gentleman in the eye. Oh. You weren’t prepared for him to be so-- gorgeous. That’s really the only word you can summon to your scattered brain at the moment because, damn. Dark hair brings out darker eyes that glimmer warmly in the lowlights of the bar despite the cowboy hat. A mustache accents plush lips. Tan skin and bold features draw you in, and you don’t want to stop looking except he clears his throat and you realize that you’ve been staring for much longer than the appropriate time.

“Is there something on my face?” Your eyes dart back up to his face and you’re struck by how unfair it is that someone can be so effortlessly attractive.

“N-- no!” Stammering, really? Dammit you’re a full grown woman, pull yourself together. “How-- how could you tell I’m not from around here?”

He beckons a finger to you, and you lean in. “I am an undercover operative working with an American based agency that deploys me worldwide to handle top-secret missions.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back to take him in again. The jacket over the tight shirt shows his athletic build rather well, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, “Really?”

“No. It’s the accent.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. The pleased smile spreading over his face matches the one sneaking over your own. “You’re right, I just moved here.” A thought strikes you, “What are you doing alone in a bar during the holidays? No family or friends to visit?”

“None left that mean enough.” The statement is casual enough, except there’s a tension in his voice that makes you hesitate. “And I could ask you the same thing. What motivates a lady to move to a new city, all alone at Christmas?” The tension passes and he waves at the bartender, who immediately turns and starts making a drink. He’s a regular here, apparently.

“A job,” You swirl the remnants of your drink lazily before finishing it, “I’m starting tomorrow.” The last dregs slip down your throat, and the burning buzz will last for now.

“Ah, a beautiful woman and a hard worker. It’s too much for my heart.” 

“If that alone is too much, then this is going to be a short evening indeed.” The subtle innuendo doesn’t fly over either of your heads, and you don’t miss the smile spreading across his face when you flirt back.

“I think I may surprise you, darling. We’re both willing to work for what we want.” His drink arrives, and he takes a sip. Heat pools in your core at the implications. “If this evening is going to continue, may I have the lady’s name so that I can address her properly?”

You hum low in your throat in response. You’ve never brought a man home at the first meeting, never allowed flirting to be anything more than that on the first night. But something’s different about this one. In a split second decision, you give it to him. 

He repeats the syllables after you, rolling them around his tongue in a way that sends a thrill through you as you wonder what else he can do with it, “Gorgeous. George, another drink for the lady, on my tab.” 

You tilt your head back, catching his eyes, “And may I then have the gentleman’s, so that I may know the name of my fearless knight in… shining leather and spurs?”

He laughs, “Jack Daniels.”

“Jack Daniels, like the whiskey brand?” 

“Something like that.” His grin is mysterious and seems a little too practiced, but that’s fine with you. You smile back anyway. Your drink arrives, and you raise the glass to Jack as you take a sip, though you find that the burn of the whiskey doesn’t leave you with the same satisfaction.

A song starts playing in the background, and you straighten up and glance over your shoulder at the dance floor. “Wait, I--”

“--love this song.” You both finish the sentence together. You look back at him hopefully, and he looks at you with a bit of a challenge in his eyes. 

The stool scrapes across the floor and he rises, extending a hand to you, “Would you care to dance, sweetheart?”

“Depends. Are we going to square dance?” 

“Only if you want to, darling.”

“Yes to the dancing, no to the square dancing then.” You accept his hand and walk with him to the center of the dance floor. Your drinks remain abandoned at the bar.

The bassy thrum of the music and crooning vocals keep your hips undulating against his, but Jack has other ideas. He hasn’t let go of your hands, and your arms are crossed over your chest when he draws them up and over your head. Your arms extend and you spin, meeting his eyes as you grasp his hands. 

The alternative pop song doesn’t translate perfectly to the style that he brings, but you can hardly complain. Around you, people are grinding against each other, but a small space clears for him to sway and turn with you. It’s surprisingly fun compared to what you knew of night dancing in a bar. 

The tempo slows and you step inside his reach so that your back is against his chest. 

‘Are you strange like me?

Lightin’ matches just to swallow up the flame like me?’

His breath catches hot and heavy in your ear as you press back into him, savoring every breath and drop of sweat that is your effect on him. The verse fades, and you allow him to lead once again. The melody swells in your head, drowning out everything around you until it’s only him and you. But this time the lyrics make you wonder about the man holding your hands.

‘Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.’

The music ends with a crescendo and a final spin, and you’re left panting as your gaze locks with Jack’s. He’s holding you firmly, one hand on your waist, and your bodies feeling like they’re steaming in the chilly air. The spell breaks with a single glance upwards from him. 

“Well that’s a fine addition to an already wonderful night.” There’s a tinge of amusement in his voice, and you follow his gaze.

The mistletoe hangs directly overhead. You glance down, a thrill of nerves running through your body at the intensity in Jack’s stare. Something must have shown in your eyes or body language, because he relaxes and loosen his grip on your waist.

“Only with your permission of course, darling.” He’s fighting it, but disappointment clouds his tone, and he withdraws. “I understand if it’s not something you wan--”

You cut him off by snagging his collar and pulling him close. The surprise on his face gives way to a smirk as you quip, “Don’t mind if I do, cowboy.”

Then his lips are on yours and you’re melting into him. The bar fades into the background and you lose yourself in a man that you had met three hours ago. He tastes like your drink. Tingles spread through your body as he deepens the kiss, warming you to the tips of your fingers.

Then you’re being pressed backwards until you hit the wall, hands instinctively flying up to tangle in his already messy hair. Something soft and firm brushes your fingertips, and you snag it on instinct, lifting Jack’s hat to plop it on top of your own head. He breaks the kiss, a soft smile spreading over his face when he pulls back to look at you. 

“Do I make a good cowgirl?”

“Looks better on you than me, darling.” He kisses you again, hands sliding over your waist down to your ass, and you don’t think that’s a lasso pressing up against you. A low moan rumbles out of his throat, and you stifle a whimper at the sound. He chuckles, “Want to get out of here, cowgirl?”

“Yeah.” Lust boils in your stomach. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his kiss-swollen lips that part ever so slightly so you can see his tongue flick over them.

“Got any friends to notify of your immediate departure?” His breath ghosts over your skin and his dark eyes flick up from your lips to meet yours, warming your body as you lose yourself in the deep brown.

“No, too new to the city.” You whisper back, the noise of the club fading into the background while a wave of heat crashes over your body, swelling between your legs.

“Your place or mine?”

---

Funny enough, Jack didn’t bring a car either, but he doesn’t explain and you don’t question it. You don’t regret walking the short five minutes to and from the bar, especially when Jack pulls you close to his side as you walk. You’re just passing under the bridge on your street when he stops walking.

“Stop, do you hear that?” You instantly freeze, eyes darting around for any perceivable threat. There’s too many potential hiding places, the shadows of the bridge supports could hide a man of any size and--

“Listen closely…” He hums the tune from the bar and steps away, tugging you forward a couple of steps. He pulls you back into him, and you’re able to hear the melody through the vibrations in his chest. 

‘You can’t wake up, this is not a dream.’

You find your rhythm. The tempo picks up, only a shadow in your mind as you sway to the invisible beat. He matches you easily, and the two of you move with an unpracticed ease out from beneath the shadow of the bridge into the streetlight glow. The melody swells, and you laugh when a breeze ruffles your hair. You sing the last line to him.

‘Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.’

You end up back in his arms, breathing hard and smiling up at Jack. His fingers slip down to interlock with yours, “I can help with that.” You should be freezing, but heat throbs under your skin in time with your racing heart. 

He leans in, but just before his lips touch yours, you whisper, “Jack? We’re here.”

His eyes shift over to your front door briefly, then back to you. He grins. “Nice place.”

---

You laugh as you stumble through your front door, your back hitting yet another wall when Jack pins you to the side of the living room. Heated kisses trail down your neck and a muscled thigh slides between yours. You shudder at the contact against your clothed pussy, your heartbeat throbbing between your legs fiercely.

“Jack, bed’s that way.”

“Oh sweetheart, that would be the end goal for sure.” Hands support your rear, and you fold your legs around him. You’re vaguely aware of him walking you towards the door that you indicated, but you can’t bring yourself to pay attention when he’s licking into your mouth and he’s so close and so warm and right there for you to enjoy. He lays you gently on the bed, legs dangling off the edge. 

“You want this?” The question is so starkly unexpected that you blink and sit up for a moment. He’s standing there between your legs, hair disheveled and shirt half unbuttoned. His pupils are completely lust-blown and his shoulders are heaving with the heavy breaths he’s taking, and you’re struck with the thought that this is the first time someone has thought to ask. But you’d have to be half-dead to say no now. 

“Yes.”

And then he’s undoing your pants and dropping to his knees in front of you. Warm breath ghosts over your exposed skin after he gently peels your pants off. You squirm as large, warm hands rub over your inner thighs. “Beautiful.” But he is too, with the way he glances up at you from between your legs. He’s absolutely beautiful, as he carefully pulls your panties to the side and drags his tongue through your folds. 

“You taste better down here, sweetheart.” He immediately concentrates around your clit, tracing lazy circles around the sensitive nub and you forget how to breathe. 

Your hips roll against his face, trying to gain more friction than what he’s giving, and you whimper as his mustache leaves a tingling trail on your skin. The heat pooling within your core is begging for more, and you’re close to doing the same as he continues to patiently taste you. 

“Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. I’m going to make you feel so good, darling, you’re going to be screaming my name.” A thick finger rests against you, gathering your wetness and continuing to massage against your clit while his tongue finally dips to press against your entrance. You flutter in response, a whine scraping against the back of your throat. His tongue presses deep into your core, and you clench around the insistent pressure.

“Ja-Jack I’m go-gonna--” The words refuse to come smoothly, but he seems to sense your urgency. His tongue returns to your clit, sucking and kissing the flesh while his finger slips into your pussy. 

“Come, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” Every flick of his tongue against your clit pulls another whine from you. Fuck, something inside you snaps and then heat is burning through your body. The wave crests, and you dimly hear a choked moan when your floor muscles convulse and heat drips from you.

He continues to taste you long after you’ve stopped convulsing, while the light fades from you vision and you regain feeling in your limbs. And you understand something. He’s tasting you simply to taste you, giving for the sake of giving. You know why you allowed it to get past the flirting stage.

“You doing good, darling?” He climbs up over you and kisses you, lips molding to yours like they were made to. He tastes like you.

You can’t respond, don’t want to when it means pulling away from this moment right now. The only thing you want right now is to stay like this, to stay in this perfect warmth, where the only thing you know is that he’s kissing you and you’re floating on the sheer feeling of being able to give because you feel like it.

Then he shifts, and you feel his erection brush against your thigh. And your gut tells you it’s his turn now. You move your leg, bringing it up between his thighs. It bumps against his length, and he tenses, pulling away and dropping his head to the crook of your neck. And you take the moment to flip the two of you, straddling his hips. 

“Give me a second, darling, have to find a condom.” His arm reappears from the edge of the bed with his wallet, but you stop him.

“I have an implant. Are you clean?”

“Last checkup, yes. And I haven’t been with anyone since.”

You smirk, “Well then I see no need.”

He exhales, arms going behind his head as he grins up at you, “I’d have to say, as enjoyable as that just was, seeing you like this?” He shakes his head, “Best part of the night.”

“It’s about to get better.” His dick is velvety hard between your thighs, and you can’t help grinding down on it just a little. 

“I’ll believe it when I feel it.” He groans, head falling back against the pillow. 

The challenge floats in the air, and you grab both it and his length in a single moment. He’s going to be saying your name soon. Notching it at your entrance, you sink down in a single motion. He drags against your insides so perfectly, fitting to you and filling you so completely. Your back arches at the burning stretch, but all you can focus on is Jack’s groan when your butt meets his hips, how his body seizes under you, and how his hands fly to clutch at you. 

But his cock inside you isn't enough, you need more contact, need to know that he’s right there with you. You grab his wrists and drag his hands up to your breasts, relishing the moan that escapes him as he squeezes them.

Your name echoes through the air, followed by his gasping breaths as you raise yourself off of him and sink back down. The heat starts building inside you again. His hips jerk up into you, seemingly unintentionally. “God, fucking perfect. Feel so good around me. Not gonna last, not after earlier, please sweetheart.”

You grind down onto him, finding your rhythm again. The fire inside of you is constant and overtaking you. It swells on its own without needing anything else besides Jack, who’s looking up at you like you’re the only star in the sky. 

“You look so good bouncing on my dick, cowgirl, but I’m going to have you under me, squirming for me while I get you to keep making all of those cute noises. I’ll be-- fuck!” His breath catches and his hands dig into the flesh of your hips, and a voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re going to have bruises tomorrow. You can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

You fight to retain your own rhythm, but it’s unsustainable, and your screaming muscles wear down in the face of Jack’s strength. They give out, and you’re caught in the rhythmic slapping of skin as Jack takes over.

“Ja- Jack! Fuck!” You can’t organize yourself enough to think, let alone acknowledge him while he continues to drive up into you. The ragged cries ripped from your throat lose all coherency. It’s too much, and the orgasm rising through your body is taking your mind with it. A hand detaches from your waist and presses directly against your clit, rocketing you further towards your climax. “Jack!” 

“Come on sweetheart, I know you’ve got another in you. Let go. Let me take care of you.”

Your own orgasm hovers at the edge of your mind, but you shove it away in favor of tripping his. His breaths are coming heavier now, and his hips continue to slam upwards into yours. He’s going to outlast you at this rate, unless--

A hand grips your neck just enough that you register the pressure, and he drags you down against his body. The world flips around once more, and then you’re underneath him instead and his arms are planted on either side of your head as he-- fuck. The pace increases, no it must multiply by some large number because your body is shaking with every thrust, and the headboard is slamming against the wall and you’re glad that you don’t share these walls with anyone else. Your cry is muffled by his mouth, but the new angle causes him to drive up against something inside you that you swear makes you see a corner of heaven.

It spikes with a fury, driving you over the edge as you clamp down around him. Your body seizes, arching against Jack as the shockwaves claim your body. You’re rocketed somewhere high above the clouds for the second time tonight, and all you can really comprehend is how happy you are that you brought him home. And through the haze, you faintly hear him purring in your ear, “Good girl, pretty girl, gorgeous. Gorgeous.”

He keeps fucking you through your high, and you need him to cum. You need him to feel the same bliss that you do, and you know how to do it. The idea barely crosses your mind before your body accepts it, and your floor muscles clamp down almost of their own volition. He falters, and a gasp is the only sound you hear before he’s coming. His hips piston out and in one last time, and then he’s spilling deep inside you.

When the light fades from behind your eyes, you feel yourself being shifted. Your combined juices trickle down your leg as he pulls out, and your back is pressed against his chest. You drift, blinking in and out of consciousness. You feel him rise from behind you and then hear the sound of running water. He returns moments later, and there’s a damp cloth cleaning between your legs before he’s back in bed behind you, arms locked around your waist and pulling you close. His fingers intertwine with yours over your belly, and as they brush against the skin of your stomach, you realize that they aren’t cold anymore. He drags the comforter over your bodies.

The world around you is dissolving in a haze of exhaustion, but his voice rumbles through the fog. You’re so comfortable and warm, and by all rights you should be asleep. But you force yourself back to the world of waking, enough to hear him thanking you as he plants slow kisses along the back of your neck. The delicious warmth of his skin against yours draws you farther under and stifles the confusion at the statement, and you finally surrender to the exhaustion pulling at your body. 

---

Your phone alarm wakes you the next morning to an empty bed. 

Realistically, you shouldn’t have expected him to be there, shouldn’t have hoped that it could have been more than a one time thing. Right? You’re a certified badass, a top-rated handler at Statesman Distillery who has guided multiple agents and friends through life and death scenarios. You deal in realism and pessimism. You have had one night stands before, none of which led to any kind of connection. You don’t need emotional connection to function. This shouldn’t be any different. Right?

Except you know how you normally feel after one night stands, and this isn’t it.

You’re on autopilot as you shower and dress for your first day. All you can think about is the warmth of his hands as they ran over your skin, his smirk as he caught your eye, mouth glistening with your release. His quiet ‘thank you’ last night as he curled his body around yours before falling asleep. If you could have had a say, you would have wanted more than one night. A second chance, maybe, but it’s not like you get many of those these days.

Statesman Distillery is across the street from last night’s bar, and the brisk air helps to clear your head and prepare you mentally. As soon as you walk through those doors, you’re Agent Seltzer, not a girl pining for a man whom you barely know beyond his name. You hesitate under the bridge on your way to work. The music echoes in your ears and chest. You keep walking. 

The receptionist directs you to your new office. Top floor, third door on the left. It’s roomier than your last one, though now you’re at HQ, not the LA branch office. A woman meets you at the elevator. She is slight, but her steely composure and short cut hair give her an air of maturity and ability. 

“Good morning and Merry Christmas, Seltzer.” She’s holding a basket with a label that reads ‘Happy First Day!’ “I’m Ginger Ale, the head overseer of the base-side handlers, and I’ll be giving you the basic acclimation on your first day. Sorry that it had to be a holiday, but an impending crisis in Chicago has just taken a turn for the worse. The mission briefing has been sent to your tablet.”

Your brow furrows slightly, and she continues as if she could read your internal question. “This isn’t usually my job, but it’s the holidays and most of the other agents trained in onboarding are on leave. We’re throwing you into the deep end on your first day, unfortunately, but your superiors at the LA branch assured us that you would take to it naturally.”

She sets the gift basket on your desk, and you notice the largest item in the basket is a bottle of the famed Statesman whiskey. You idly take it out and study the label. “Interesting first day gift.”

Ginger shrugs with a faint smile, “That’s directly from your assigned field agent, Agent Whiskey. He gifts those to his new handlers.”

“Any reason why?”

“He--” She seems to start to say something, then stops herself, “It’s an early apology. He’s experienced, and he operates as he sees fit. He burns through handlers faster than a hot knife through butter.”

The challenge floats above your head at the explanation, and you take it. “I’m assuming that I will get to meet Agent Whiskey before our official briefing?”

“Yes,” Ginger checks her watch, “In about… two seconds.”

“Sweetheart.” The voice is achingly familiar, and memories of last night crash over you like a heatwave. Second chances, hm?

Part Two if anyone cares for it