#because here's the thing: writing is simultaneously the most restful and most stressful and most painful

[thevioletcaptain]

i'm supposed to be sleeping (went to bed like an hour ago) but i spent a decent chunk of today working on chapters 5 & 6 of as a friend and now my brain refuses to shut the hell up about it. which means that instead of being unconscious i've just spent 20 minutes rewriting the [first morning back at the bunker after everyone knows] scene on my phone, and i genuinely hope that it is actually as funny as it currently seems to my half-asleep brain.

[the-beatnik-gale]

A Moment Alone

I went ahead and wrote some fanfiction for my Tav Husk x Gale because I was bored and wanted to write something cute. I wasn't going to share this but fuck it, we could all do with some more Gale content. ====================================== Approximately 1.2k words

Gale Dekarios x Tav (Named) It's a fluff piece, nothing raunchy. :) It occurs in the Elf Song Tavern from Act 3, but there aren't spoilers.

* Nothing has been proofread, and I can only hope Grammarly caught most of my mistakes. This is the first thing I've written in about 10 years, so I apologize if I've regressed back to 8th-grade writing skills. Forgive me; I'm out of practice.

The warmth of the water enveloped Husk with the comfort of a favorite blanket. The road to Baldur’s Gate was harsh and unforgiving but was a familiar practice that she took solace in. The nights spent around the fire, eating, laughing, and sharing the company of her companions had brought memories of her youth: her mother singing for the wondering group of vagabonds she had called family, her father creating illusions to accompany the stories and lyrics, and of her brother silently taunting her when she was up to perform. She missed it dearly and sometimes resented that she had willingly severed that tie. “It was necessary.” She thought, “You needed to get away, to find yourself.” She sunk lower into the bath water, and her smaller dwarven height made her a perfect subject for being completely submerged. “If I hadn’t walked away from them, I wouldn’t be here.  I wouldn’t have this damn parasite…” She huffs but can’t stop the smile from breaking through. “… and I wouldn’t have yet another wizard to add to my pocket full of magic men.” She couldn’t help but laugh. Gale had been her favorite part of this whole debacle. The silver lining against a sky of unknown horror, especially given the reality that he could have been but a speck had he gone through with his goddess’s demand. The moment of relief she had when he went ahead and chose her, Faerun and Mystra be damned, was indescribable. More likely, Husk didn’t have the right words memorized to describe the moment.

“Papa would like him, and he’s always respected as an arcane practitioner no matter at what stage. Draccel would fight with him, surely, debating some facts about some old dusty mage that’s long been dead, only stopping to ask how Gale could deal with me, and Mama…” A joyful sigh exits; she can hear her mother’s voice, simultaneously laced with stress and affectionate. “Just what we need, another wizard to anchor down among their schemes and grand delusions. Really dear, couldn’t you find a simple sorcerer or warlock if you needed someone magically imbued?” Husk threw her head back, eyes resting and arms outstretched to rest on the top of the tub.

It would be wonderful, beautiful, pure bliss. “Then there’s his mother and Tara. Tara, I have some idea about it, but his mother…” She stops short, a string of thoughts running through her at once, eyes still closed. There was so much left to do: Wyll’s father, Gale’s book, Astarion’s master, Orin and Gortash, the damn elder brain, plus whatever small tasks the group was sure to find themselves aiding in—the list seemed to grow ever larger, and there was no end in sight. “This is all assuming we even make it out alive. If, by some miracle, we do, then I can worry about this; until then, silence yourself. Relax, still your mind like you were taught. Just breathe deep.”

The distant murmurs of the patrons below amplified the silence of her upstairs dwelling. The others were selling spare supplies, wandering around, or making merriment elsewhere for the time being. It was their first day in the city, so it didn’t take her by surprise that the itch to explore and revisit was almost too much for some companions to resist. While the quiet was nice, Husk was beginning to regret not going with Gale to the stands. He had insisted she relax, and she wasn’t ready to expend the energy needed to protest. “The proper supplies will be needed if I’m to cook a more substantial meal than what we’ve been subjected to these last few weeks.  Worry not, I’ll be back soon. You take the chance for a proper reprieve, and by the time I should, should the others not have returned, perhaps we might take a few moments for ourselves.” If there were even the slightest possibility of a quiet moment together, Husk would hold out hope for it. Her eyes flutter open, peering past the cracks in the dividers, taking in the upstairs. She glared at the beds, their size just enough for a single body. Despite her dwarven frame being smaller than the rest, she wasn’t small enough to slide in alongside him. “Mmm, perhaps we should have stayed camping.” She wasn’t sure when she had dozed off or for how long, but she was suddenly aroused by the loud shutting of the door and the murmuring of a familiar voice. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s around… “

It was Gale, grunting slightly as he carried in what spices and groceries he had retrieved from his quick excursion.

“My love, are you here?”  His steps moved from the fire to the left of the room, opposite her. “I’m here; if you give me a moment, I’ll be right out. “

She heard the quickening of footsteps across the room. Before she could lift herself from the water, which had long since grown cold, her gaze turned upward as Gale gently nudged his way past the screen towel in hand. “Here, let me help. “ She didn’t need it but took the offer, grasping his extended hand. He helped pull her up, wrapping the towel and his arms around Husk. Gale leaned in, giving a lingering kiss on her forehead. “You smell nice. Not that I found you to have a pungent aroma in the first place. “ A small chuckle fell from Husk; she knew he didn’t mind her natural smell, but it felt nice to be able to bathe.   “Lavander and honey, not my first choice, but I’m content to smell like something other than my own sweat. It makes me happy that I didn't take a vow of cleanliness. The journey here would have been far more troublesome for me.” She reached her hand to his face, her thumb running along his cheek.

“And how was the market? Hopefully, you had no difficulty finding what you needed.” Gale nuzzled himself into her hand.

“Oh, I didn’t face much difficulty at all. Talking to a few vendors, however, I noticed that the people here seem to be just as on edge, if not more so, than those outside the gate.  While I still suggest we rest tonight, tomorrow will come early, and we’ll need to start laying out a plan immediately.” His face goes stoic for a moment, the reality of what is to come hitting hard and quick, but slowly, it loosens into a smug grin. “But that’s for us to worry about tomorrow, yes? For now, I say we take that moment I mentioned earlier. After all, it’s hard to focus when I have such beauty standing before me. While it won’t be the most romantic moment I could conjure, you have my word that I’ll do my utmost to make the best of it. I don’t think we’ll have all that much time left before our companies retire from the city. So, let us make haste and act accordingly, claiming this little moment for ourselves.” He takes her hand and leads her to one of the beds; both are determined to seize the moment, even if only for a short while.

[puckpocketed]

24/12/2023 - San Jose Sharks vs Vancouver Canucks

The Summer I Fell For Hockey - Hunger.

On the last day before the NHL goes on break for Christmas, my body decides it's had enough of being healthy. I come down with a pounding headache and am wracked with the phantom sensation of all my muscles being squeezed simultaneously. Going against the advice of friends and family, I end up necking two Panadol. I peel myself some oranges, make my peace with being one of those hockey guys who has more than one live feed open at a time, and settle in for the games. It’s a truly outrageous day for hockey, it turns out, and I don’t regret pushing through the pain at all.  Not one but two Michigan goals are scored, out of the less-than dozen ever recorded in the NHL; my Kraken win another match (though, that’s not outrageous so much as just plain wonderful); and of course, the Dallas Stars somehow manage to rob the Nashville Predators of a regulation win by scoring twice within the last 13 seconds of third period. But I don’t want to write about any of that. I know there’s a lot to say — maybe one day I’ll even get around to saying it — but it’s my summer memoir and today I want to talk about the Sharks.

I operate at all times with a low-level desire to mention the Sharks. They slip into all the writing I do about hockey, like how someone with a crush always finds a way to bring up the object of their desire. But crystallising how I feel about the San Jose Sharks has come so much slower than it has with my other team. The passing affection is easy; that’s been there since I saw their teal jerseys, silly cartoon shark biting through a hockey stick; but all the rest? It’s come as a slow, spreading honey-drip. 

And so, a full post-game is only now happening after what was a marathon 60 minutes of hope and heartbreak against the Canucks. That’s all Sharks games, I’ve concluded (at least, this season). Every time I’ve watched, no matter how far down they were, I’ve never really believed they were completely out of it. Which some might say is stupid of me given that they’re the absolute bottom of the league standings. But I’ve supported worse performing teams — I waded through the Shanghai Dragons’ 42-game loss streak after all. And the Sharks don’t feel anything like the Dragons.

The Vancouver Canucks are at the top of the top of the entire league, hovering equal first or tied second depending on the matches played. This can’t be stressed enough. David, meet Goliath; and tough titties if you left the slingshot at home, we’re playing for keeps this time. Within two minutes of the puck drop, the Canucks score off an absolute cannon blast from Kuzmenko, which only happens because of a no-look pass that fell into the wrong hands. Kuzmenko scores again off the Canucks’ power play not long after, and we know it’s a Sharks game now because they’re going to be playing catch up from here on out.

The LA Kings nearly shut them out the week before this match. I watched most of that game from behind my hands. So many failed dump-and-chase attacks, failed rushes, failed battles along the boards. An impossibly strong defence from the Kings, as I came to find out later; hockey built on denying a clean attack through the neutral zone. It was a slaughter. Yet at no point did it ever look like the Sharks were done.

I have to leave the Canucks game for less than half an hour. When I come back my Sharks are somehow miraculously even with them at 2-2. It terrifies and thrills me all at once. It seems such a simple concept; thinking there’s always a chance you can win and playing like you mean it. I mean, it’s always true. When my friends and I watch esports we like to say that while not every game is ‘winnable’, every game is ‘throwable’. No matter how far ahead a team is, there is always a non-zero chance they’ll throw it away.

But saying something and living it are two very different things. I think the Sharks live it, and I think they’ve somehow made it fundamental to their hockey. This doesn’t mean never faltering or feeling demoralised after losing a lead — that’s normal, that’s competition — what it means is working and working at the problem anyway, and continuing to work at it until the last second of the game. 

 This is hardly a unique trait; plenty of teams refuse to give up, and you could make the argument that this is a marker of a good team, that it’s a requirement to climb. Here, you could bring up the Stars vs Preds game. But it’s easy to keep going if you’ve got ample proof that it’s going to work out, that it’s worked out before. The Stars put on an excellent show, dug deep and didn’t stop playing, no one’s saying they didn’t. But it must be so much easier if you’re them, and you have a pretty good record on comebacks, and you’re already doing so well in the division standings. When you already know you’re good, that drive is resting on something solid, that faith has already been rewarded — but what if you’re the Sharks? Where does the faith come from then? I think it becomes something else once you’ve left it too long, morphs into something that’s got mass and pull, that breathes and is alive. Players and coaches and casters might call it ‘grit’ or ‘stubbornness’. I’ve begun to think of it as hunger.

During the LA Kings game, I held my breath as the minutes to the end of third period ticked down, I waited for them to flag. I waited for them to fall apart. They sort of did, I’m not going to deny that; giving up a shorthanded goal on the power play while their net was empty. It hurt to watch. But then, in the last 90 seconds of the match, MacDonald slammed it into the back of the Kings’ net from the blue line. The cheer I let out, the cheers that came from the sparse crowd in attendance at the Shark Tank; they didn’t feel like cheers from people who knew the game was over — even with the 4-1 scoreboard and 1:19 left of the game. The cameras cut to fans standing up in their seats, screaming as the home goal horn sounded for the first time that night. The players squared up for the ensuing faceoff after casual celebrations; they didn’t look happy to simply not get shut out. They were still out for more.

The Canucks bring the score back in line during second period: two goals in a row, spaced about five minutes apart. Were I watching the Kraken, at this point we might’ve broken out the memes in preparation for a loss — but I’m watching the Sharks, and all I do is press closer to my screen and clench my teeth. The Sharks aren’t done yet, I tell myself and my blog and the perhaps three other people hanging out in the live tag, to resounding agreement. I think we all actually believe ourselves. The Sharks players must believe it, too, from the way Zetterlund answers the Canucks with a goal of his own. 3-4 isn’t the insurmountable gap that 2-4 was, and winning the match still feels like a shimmering possibility, despite the chasm between the Sharks and Canucks’ place in the standings.

The game goes on. We trade another goal. It’s 4-5 halfway through third period — a gorgeous tip-in from MacDonald — and the stress begins to fracture my belief. My painkillers aren’t quite enough to keep the edge off the pain, and it’s distracting, and I just want the game to be over. “THEYRE STILL IN IT!!” writes one of my Sharks mutuals under one of my live posts, followed by three shark emojis. I breathe, refocus, I push through the pain. I watch my Sharks go hard in the last five minutes of the match; and even as they get scored on twice, I want to believe in them. I believe right up until the final buzzer. The next time they play, I’ll still believe in them.

Commentary on the San Jose Sharks that isn’t “they suck right now” is pretty hard to come by. Occasionally though, if you listen well during broadcasts, if you sift through the pundits on Youtube, if you leaf through enough articles, you’ll find a thread that they all have in common, the thing that everyone can say about the Sharks: you might win, but they won’t make it easy. The Canucks win 4-7. The Sharks didn’t make it easy.

A few weeks ago, the Sharks beat the Jets, who were close to the top of the Western conference, 2-1. Before that, they came back against the Red Wings, overcame the Islanders, nearly caught the Rangers and the Golden Knights. What I’ve learned about the Sharks, what’s finally crystalised my admiration for them, is this: the Sharks might be at the bottom of the league, but if you give even an inch they’ll swallow you whole.

I come to every Sharks game ready for something interesting to happen, ready to see them fight until the very end. Taking my cues from the Sharks, I arrive and I’m always, always hungry. If they can carry this with them into the future, into better management and a more developed roster, I think one day we’ll eat.

The Sharks are circling, ever circling — and eventually they’ll have blood.

[jnselfshipping]

「You're strong. You can push through.」　

📫from your F/O ⇢ to you.📫

[TW: Self harm]

I can see it on your face. Whether or not you try to hide it doesn't matter. I know you better than you know yourself, sometimes. I know, I know. Sometimes. Well, this is sometimes.

Was it something about the last few days? Did something happen, love?

Or maybe it was the end of year? The stress of the holidays? Family? Friends? Work? School?

Come here. Rest your head on my shoulder. Imagine for a second, that all those terrible thoughts which have long outstayed their welcome in your head, coming out from your temple. Into me. Don't worry, love. I can handle them. Let me take them from you for a second. Now you can breathe.

I know how horrible this all feels.

I know, I do.

You're worried. You're worried about getting worse... and about getting better. And about everything else on earth simultaneously. It's difficult to carry so many things all the time. Even the toughest fighter buckles once in a while.

None of this is your fault, love. It's never going to be your fault, your problem, your incompetence.

I don't like seeing you like this, dear. Because you're so much more than this.

You're strong. Incredibly strong. You're beautiful. You could do anything if you put your heart to it.

Don't let this make you feel weak, don't let it convince you that this is what you are in your deepest layer. You know it isn't true - Or, if you can't remember that right now, I know it isn't true. And I'll tell you again and again until you believe it.

Say it back to me. That you're strong. That you're incredibly intelligent. You're one of a kind.

Don't stop yourself.

You're beautiful. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen.

And you can make it through this. Say it to me, love. We can make it through this.

You're not troubling me with this, love. I promise you aren't smothering me, or burdening me. This is what I'm here for.

Because I love you. I love you so much. I do - I can swear on my life.

Can you show me where you hurt yourself? If you don't want to, that's completely alright. But if you would like... I could help massage it. Antiseptic cream is probably a good idea.

I hate to see you hurt, love. I hate that you have to fight all kinds of hurt, all the time. I hate that this was the only way to make some things better, to make some things disappear.

But I'm here. Look at me, please? I'm here. Right here, with you.

So... close your eyes and breathe. Did you clean the wounds? Bandage them? Good. Stay here with me, picture yourself handing me a big, heavy backpack, full of all your pain and anxiety and responsibilities. I'll take that, thank you.

Now, do you want to watch a movie? Or cuddle? Or have a nice meal? I'll cook. You, love, on the other hand... Take a break. You've earned it.

[Author's Note: From my notes app, to your tumblr page for your enjoyment! This was cathartic to write as someone who recently... kind of... maybe... relapsed. But I'll get better. You'll get better too. We'll get better together. To anyone reading this to the end - thank you. And I love you.]

[itwasthisorthemilitary]

March 12, 2024

One month since I left Boston. That’s NUTS. Simultaneously feels like three days and 3 years ago. 26 months left (can’t even begin to consider how weird that is). Writing this while licking a jar of peanut butter like my life depends on it. I considered using my machete to chop the jar in half so i could lick it better.

ANYWAYS.

Today was silly. I love my Spanish class, our teacher really thinks we’re all insane. We asked him if he’s ever seen that old Disney movie “How to Eat Fried Worms” but he thought this was like an educational film and not a children’s movie.

After lunch we went to San Sebastián where the rest of our cohort is living! (Los Mortales is way better in my opinion) but I miss the SASers and love getting to see them. We had a big group meeting about Worms 🪱 In my opinion it was pretty boring/i feel like i already knew most of it? There was a very cute dog tho so that made it worth it.

Lots of things coming up!

-Language progress interview on Friday (I’m stressed)

-Trainees are hosting a community meeting on Friday (we are not prepared at all. Gonna be a shit show)

-Tech week next week! All of the CECers are headed to Chiriqui for a week of in the field learning like how to make soap from used cooking oil. So so excited to see Chiriqui because it’s like 10 hours from here and is much higher in elevation so it might be COLD.

Yesterday when i was in the river for a lil dip i was wearing my tevas and thought I’d just walk down the river a bit because it was only like calf deep. It was so pretty and really felt like i was in the middle of a jungle (i was). So im just exploring, having a good time, when Carlo SCREAMS at me. #rude. Until i realized that he was screaming “CAIMANS”. So apparently the area where we swim is safe, but the area that i had walked directly into about a football field away, is not safe. And some locals had flagged him down when they saw how far i had went. So i hastily returned. Never actually saw a caiman but the locals were like “this dumb gringo”.

Here are some great photos of a sloth, a very cute puppy, my bestie Liv, and too many of us packed into a van.

[notebeans-galaxy]

you wanna know something? I was extremely ambitious as a child. I've wanted to be an engineer and an astrophysicist since before I learned long division. I wanted to be a writer by the time I was 9, and I wanted to be a singer by the time I was 11.

That ambition decreased in middle & high school, but it never fully went away; I decided I also wanted to be a visual artist and a programmer and a polyglot and an activist. On the more casual side I want to study genetics, pharmacology, voice acting, literature, linguistics, anthropology, the occult, & religious history.

I was a straight A student in elementary school. I wasn't just a straight A student, I was a dedicated nerd; I genuinely enjoyed school despite severe social ostracization and I thought most of my homework was interesting enough that I wasn't bored while doing it.

And somehow, despite that, despite that I've always been ambitious and always sought challenge and that I was competitive to a fault, I somehow managed to convince myself I was lazy in middle and high school when my grades dropped due to severe unaddressed childhood trauma causing mental health issues, my ADHD medication losing effectiveness from being on it for a decade, and multiple undiagnosed chronic illnesses. I never actually stopped trying. I'd just convinced myself that because I couldn't complete classwork with the same attention I used to, that because I was stressed and exhausted and had to rest more often, that it was somehow my fault that my grades got worse. No, I'm fucking disabled. No one ever bothered to tell me that ADHD was a disability until I was in high school, no one but me realized I was depressed or autistic until I asked for diagnoses, no one ever took the severity of my chronic fatigue or post-exertional malaise or orthostatic intolerance seriously enough. fuck the way estrogen interacts with dysautonomia y'all it's so bad, testosterone HRT was more effective treatment for it than anything else. i still need salt tablets but my POTS is stable now entirely because of T.

I think the real kicker is that all it took was a bus to my house for me to attend school again. The barriers to success for disabled students often have such simple solutions and yet no one's willing to implement them until forced to. I was convinced for years that it was my own failures & incompetence that were the issue, and all it took was not being forced to walk.

I'm going to start college in the fall and I know it's possible for me to achieve some of the things I've had my sights set on since I was a kid. I still have chronic fatigue and chronic pain and non-24 complicates scheduling, but calculus is a hell of a lot easier when you aren't suffering 3+ types of cognitive impairment simultaneously. side note why is calculus Like That I can do physics related calculus because i learned integrals and derivatives before literally anything else because i was taking AP Physics: Mechanics concurrently with Calc AB during my first attempt at 12th grade, but i struggle to comprehend the rest of it.

A few years ago, I'd resigned myself to not being able to pursue my interests. I figured I wouldn't be able to succeed in anything I tried due to how ill I was. And while I still may not be able to study all of the things I'm interested in at a college, I sure as hell can pursue the most important ones — the original four things I wanted to do with my life. Writing and music can easily remain hobbies; I don't need those to be part of my career to feel fulfilled in them. I'm planning to study cosmology in the distant future (from what I understand, you need a Ph.D to even get started) and I'll be basing my class choices around that; underclassmen all have undeclared majors at my college, but as of now I'm planning to frame my schedule around pursuit of a physics degree (which is also easily transferrable to engineering!). Crushing college debt, here I come — but it's worth it to study astronomy, physics, & cosmology.

All it took was a bus. All it took for me to graduate high school was a bus.

[volcanocraft]

cw: night terrors, distressed language, and post-traumatic stress

These posts may not be very interesting or informative but i like writing them. I haven’t ruminated on this part of my life in that much detail before the last post on it. I don’t know many people with night terrors so heres my personal experience with them.

I am unable to pinpoint when it started. maybe two years ago and it has gotten more volatile since then. i would wake up in a cold sweat (literally drenched) feeling afraid of something, my body kicked into hypervigilance, but not being able to figure out what im even scared of. Its a weird feeling because you feel simultaneously silly and exasperated and shocked no one is doing something all at once. i can recall some parts of my terrors as soon as i wake up but lose the thread hours later. i know that the theme of these dreams usually repeat in different scenarios but i legitimately don’t think it should cause me the distress it does. my dreams do not resemble the flashbacks i experience when im awake and thats where i’m like whats going on dude

I was not the one who found out about these terrors. looking back, i probably had some sort of idea but was never sold on it. I regularly share a bed with a friend and they’re the one who told me that I was very distressed in my sleep.

Often I will scream or cry-yell, unfortunately loud enough that I wake up my friend and my dog. Other times i’m upset but coherent. I legitimately don’t know what I say in these instances and have to be told them. That’s probably the most embarrassing part of this whole thing because it's always stuff like "fuck off! get off of me! I'm scared." or "get away from me. please just stop" or "why can’t you just listen?” and even typing this out makes me feel so fucking lame HAHA because i really am okay the morning after

This has never personally concerned me. The only time I’ve seriously considered it as a problem is when it becomes physical. I flail, toss and turn, and all that good stuff in my sleep. On occasion I will have a violent dream that causes me to start kicking or punching or jump out of bed. sometimes i will not recognize whose beside me and start freaking out and try to defend myself. Other times I’ll bang my head on the wall or kick it and have been known to punch or fight the wall, which is kind of funny, but i do end up having a sore foot or hand because of it

i think it comes in waves. for a while I had them track me and have been doing really well. three weeks ago I suddenly started again, and it’s been happening practically every night since then, save one or two days. I’m not medicated for my parasomnia specifically, my doctors don’t take it seriously and I’m tired of pushing it. Again, I do not think it’s that big of a deal. I have been waking up distressed for a long time now and I’ve come to terms with having the same sorts of dreams over and over again. It sucks but it doesnt impact me in noticeable ways other than getting consistent rest. It very much sounds worse on paper and I’ve been doing mentally very well recently. it’s probably a side effect of my mental disorder and the symptom i care about the least. My friend has encouraged me to speak to the professional i see weekly (I don’t know how to describe her, she does social work by trade). if this goes anywhere ill be very surprised and then whatever man I suppose owe you 50 bucks. the end

[lindsayrises]

7 Days

One week ago, I was sitting in the bathtub and I was terrified. I took a small sip of water from my water bottle and gagged on it. I spit/threw up the water. Then I started coughing and spitting/throwing up more stuff.

I woke up earlier that morning with a repeat of what took me to the ER in April. The thing that hangs in the back of my throat was so swollen, I constantly felt like I was choking on it. I could speak or breath, but not simultaneously.

I typed up some notes (since, ya know, I couldn't speak) and took myself to the doctor. I had never felt so scared, helpless, hopeless, and alone. I cried nearly the entire time I was there.

I'll spare you all the details of that morning and the days since, but I want to say this: This event forced me to put myself first.

I don't give a fuck if someone reading this thinks, "Oh, we've heard that before," because guess what? I'm.Still.Here. I could have given up a LONG time ago. Sometimes I'm embarrassed that I keep trying to do better, to be better.

In the past year I've said the following things in therapy:

I've stopped trying. I'm tired of failing over and over and over again. It's easier to not try than to keep trying and endure failing and the pain, shame, and embarrassment that it comes with over and over and over again.

I'm afraid to feel my feelings. I'm afraid I'll spiral down to a place I'll never recover from.

As I walked to my car after the doctor's visit on Thursday morning, I thought, "Maybe this will be the last time this throat thing happens. Maybe this will be a turning point."

And then I started to feel ashamed and sad and hopeless, because I've had other "maybe this will be a turning point" events that have led to zero changes.

The next second, I took my power back. I told myself, "No. This isn't a "last chance to fix your life" moment. Fuck that. If this (or something similarly scary) happens again, you'll get through it - like every other god damned thing you've overcome. You always have. You always will. You are still here. And that is a fucking miracle."

Before last Thursday, I had taken some steps to truly take care of myself. Some of these things I know I would have never done in the past. I started cutting out unnecessary things from my life. I deactivated my FaceBook account. For over two years I've been a letter-writer for the Run-Write-Fight program under the Still I Run organization. I notified that group that I would no longer be participating. I requested time off (Dec. 1 & 2) to take care of some things.

I cancelled last Sunday's reading group I've been doing most Sunday afternoons with a few former students. I have dates set for December, but I will not be continuing with it in the new year.

Last night was the first time in a week I slept in my house. For the past week I had been staying at hotels. I have spent the last week in hotels because I KNEW that was what I NEEDED to start to heal.  My house is a disaster right now.  Truthfully, it's been a disaster for months....years?  It's not dirty, but the clutter.  Ugh.  It's suffocating.

I have been so kind and compassionate toward myself the last week. Some negative self-talk has been creeping in a little bit here and there over the last few days, but nothing like it used to be.

I have been taking a notebook with me everywhere I go and journaling throughout the day and/or writing random notes, even "to do" lists. I have been buying things, lots of things actually. But I'm not buying little random shit that I'll forget about in a day. I'm buying things I need (like an actual winter coat) and things that are more "self-care" than "retail therapy."

To anyone who thinks, "Wow. Way to rationalize/justify spending money on more stuff," after reading that last sentence: Fuck.You. I am worth the money I've spent in the last week.

I am more calm and rested than I've been in a really long time. Months? Years?

I repeat the following things to me when I find myself getting stressed or anxious about something:

I'm ok. I'm safe.

I am brave and can be strong. I will be ok.

I am loved.

I do not need to explain myself to anyone. Ever.

I don't care what anyone says or thinks about me and my choices. I don't care about things I have ZERO control over. Caring so much about everyone and everything else led me to the terrified place in the bathtub on Thursday morning.

I am not responsible for anyone or anything else. I am only responsible for me and my actions.

I am enough. I am deserve and am worthy of health, happiness, love, and all good things.

I forgive myself and set myself free.

There are probably more, but those are the most frequent ones.

On Tuesday night, I stood in the most beautiful hotel room in the most beautiful hotel I've ever been in. And I started to cry. I wasn't crying the same tears that I had the previous days. I wasn't crying because I was choking on a small sip of water. These were not tears from fear, loneliness, helplessness, and hopelessness.

These were tears of joy, hope, relief, and pride. I am ok. I will be ok. I'm still here. I'm not giving up.

[phoenix-knight]

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: so, how are ya doin?

Me: running on fast depleting reserves of energy because I have no idea how others do it and why the fuck does this have to be so difficult?

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: when was the last time you took a breather?

Me: I don't fuckin know, I don't remember...ok I see what you're implying but there is no way law school will be less cruel to me

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: I notice you have the eyes of imminent burnout and forceful productivity

Me: I see you're talking about irrelevant things

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: why?

Me: ok lookie here thought technician, I worked my ass off for a classical dance performance on the 74th Republic day of India, while totally wrecking my body cause my glutes ached for days with all the half-sitting/squatting positions and brutal practice... I got barely 5 days of rest most of which I spent worrying about how the fuck I was gonna complete all the research papers I have been assigned. now our dance contingent is participating in a fest and obviously, I couldn't not go there because its an opportunity for a professional competition, and the dancer in me is hungry for some fucking recognition even if my brain engine is running on sleep deprivation and SSRI meds. I still just had to fucking go cause that's what members do for their team. with all the dance practices till 5 PM, I reach home one and half hour later at 6:30 PM, taking into account the time I take to freshen up in the space of an hour, I have no space to breathe. I am already freaking out about the amount of research I have to get done and the 1500 word essays I have to write. here i am ranting on tumblr about said pressure and stress of managing a hundred things simultaneously, instead of completing what I can. I have gone as far as to bring my laptop to class and read research papers in class while trying to blink my eyes into submission after staring at the screen for too fucking long...*panting*

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: (...)

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: (.......)

Me: *still panting*

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: wow, that's a......

Me: I know what you're gonna say, don't say it, don't you fucking say-

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: ...a lot.

Me: FUCKKKKKK I KNOOOOOOOOOW *lets out a bloodcurdling scream*

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: *looks visibly petrified*

Me: *sighs* that felt better, now that you're on the same page, what the fuck do I do.

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist:(awkwardly) do what you can...?

Me: no shit, doc.

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: *clears throat* look, i know it seems like a shitty thing to say, but really, you ARE doing the best you fucking can with the energy and will you currently have. you have a lot on your plate and that is clearly exhausting, it is totally understandable that at the end of the day you are physically and mentally exhausted. it makes sense that you have little to no energy left to cater to the projects that were assigned to you. you cannot run on empty smoke, human bodies get tired, need alone time, to recharge and replenish energy reserves. human bodies need rest to do better at whatever they can't seem to do after pulling an allnighter. even though juggling things simultaneously is fucking hard, i know you're still standing. you are surviving and moving forward, slowly and surely. take a breath, reprioritize, and focus on doing what you think is possible right now, not on perfecting everything you do. you may not be able to achieve the quality you envisioned, but that quality of research comes from at least weeks of research and enough time to comb through them. you have neither the time nor the energy reserve to do that right now. you have to execute what is currently feasible, not what is clearly unrealistic, such expecting to be able to contribute 100% to dance for 3+ hours, attending classes for hal, travel, study and writing assignments....

Do what you can.

[civiconcepts]

7 Easy Tips To Keep Your House Clean And Organized

A clean house is crucial for both your physical health and your mental well-being. Studies have shown that a messy environment can increase stress and anxiety levels, while a clean and organized space can make you feel calm, relaxed, and in control. This enables you to be more productive, focused, and creative, whether working on a project or simply trying to unwind after a long day. Aside from this, a well-maintained house is more aesthetically pleasing than a cluttered and dirty one. Having guests over when your house is messy can be embarrassing, so keeping it clean can help you feel proud of your home and more confident when entertaining guests. Lastly, your body will also benefit from staying in a clean environment. “Regular cleaning and disinfecting of surfaces will help prevent the spread of disease-causing germs and bacteria, thus reducing your risk of getting sick,” says Compass Phoenix commercial cleaning services. “It can also help minimize accidents and injuries because a messy and cluttered environment can be dangerous when walking or moving around the house.” But the reality is that it's not always possible to clean as much as you’d like to if you're busy with work or other responsibilities. Fortunately, there are several ways to keep your house clean without sacrificing too much of your time. Here are seven easy tips for keeping your home clean: Read More: 41 Bathroom Accessories List | Types of Bathroom Accessories | Toilet Accessories Tackle One Room At A Time The best way to keep your house clean is to tackle one room at a time. Don't worry about the rest of the house or think about what's happening in other rooms until you've finished that first room. If it helps you feel more at ease, you can break down each task into smaller chunks to make it more manageable. Use A Checklist Keeping track of your weekly tasks and chores can be challenging, especially if you're juggling multiple responsibilities simultaneously. One way to address this is to write everything down on a chalkboard or dry-erase calendar. This way, you can see at a glance what needs to be done, and then you can easily make changes or adjustments as needed. If you have a lot of things on your plate, there's nothing wrong with prioritizing some tasks over others. However, it's essential to remember the little things, so a checklist will help ensure that everything gets noticed in the rush-hour shuffle around your house. Wash Any Dishes Right After Use When you leave dirty dishes in the sink, it will create a lot of clutter and make your kitchen appear messy and disorganized. It can also make it difficult for you to find the items you need when you are cooking or preparing meals. By washing your dishes right away, you can keep your kitchen looking clean and feeling organized. Hire Professionals To Clean For You It’s important to schedule periodic deep cleanings like shampooing carpets, cleaning windows, and sanitizing bathrooms because these can help maintain a healthy and hygienic environment and prevent the buildup of dirt and bacteria. If this is difficult for you, consider hiring professional cleaners specializing in home cleaning services since they have the experience and equipment to tackle tough cleaning tasks and ensure that your home always looks its best. Read More: Essential Things to Consider When Building Your Dream Home Create a Routine Plan your routine based on a schedule and pattern that you can keep up with. You can plan it depending on the time of day, such as cleaning your kitchen in the morning and bathrooms at night, or on what needs cleaning most often, like vacuuming every week. Once your routine is set, stick with it so that nothing falls through the cracks because doing things regularly makes it easier and less stressful to keep up with all of those tasks. Take Advantage Of Technology Smart cleaning gadgets have revolutionized the way homes are maintained, making it easier and more convenient to keep living spaces clean and tidy. Robot vacuums, for example, can be programmed to clean your floors regularly, eliminating the need for you to spend hours pushing a heavy vacuum around your home. Self-cleaning litter boxes can help to keep your cat's litter box clean and odor-free, without the need for you to scoop or clean it manually, while other smart tools like a microwave cleaner can help you maintain a clean and hygienic home. There are even smart mops and scrubbers that can help to clean your floors and surfaces with minimal effort. Make Cleaning a Priority Finally, it is important that you make cleaning a priority instead of leaving a mess for yourself to clean tomorrow. Clean as you go instead of waiting until the end of the day to tidy everything up. If you procrastinate, it will be harder and will take longer once you get to it because there will be more work to do. So don't push it off or wait until the last minute and let it get out of control. Cleaning will become much easier and more enjoyable if you can do this. Read More: 12 Cheap Ways to Increase Home Value

FAQs:

Which tips are kept in mind during cleaning the house?Tackle One Room At A Time Create A Routine Make Cleaning A Priority Take Advantage Of Technology Wash Any Dishes Right After Use Checklist You May Also Like: - 41 Bathroom Accessories List | Types of Bathroom Accessories | Toilet Accessories - Essential Things to Consider When Building Your Dream Home - Features To Consider When Building A New Home 2023 - 12 Cheap Ways to Increase Home Value Read the full article

[searxws]

WAITING, IN THE SKY ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ pt 2!

pt.1

pairing: jason carver x reader

summary: after seeing y/n almost die because of vecna, jason decides to help the group of teens defeat the demon. however, what turn of events will thiis cause?

warnings: lowercase intended. as per usual chrissy never dated jason in this fic bc idk how to write that and jason isn't an ass in this and can actually let people speak.

word count: 1.1k

"what the hell is he doing here." said an angry eddie, who was sheltered under skull rock.

"he's here to help." said dustin. "it happened to y/n and he saw. he's been helping us since yesterday morning." he finished, trying to sway eddie, to make him understand.

meanwhile, jason and y/n stood off to the side. her head was buried in his chest and his arms were encasing her protectively. his chin rested on her head that was positioned so she was able to see eddie and everyone else. nancy handed eddie some food and water.

the night before they'd visited the creel house, finding out some hard news. nobody in the group was exactly sure how to tell eddie. earlier that morning they'd found out patrick had also been cursed by vecna and had unfortunately died. jason had been beyond devastated that he wasn't there for his friend, so now he and y/n were mutually comforting each other.

"when i got to the shore i tried calling you guys, but uh.. my walkie was busted." said eddie, taking a drink from the canteen of water. "so i did the thing that i do now apparently! i ran." he commented with malice in his tone.

"do you know what time this was? the attack." said nancy, as dustin branched off from the group.

"i know the exact time actually, my walkie wasn't the only thing that got soaked." he confirmed, tossing his watch to y/n.

"9:27." she spoke.

"same time our flashlights went out." said jason.

"which means what exactly?" questioned steve.

"that surge of energy.. was vecna attacking patrick." y/n answered, feeling sorrowful for bringing it up in front of jason again.

"well.. we're one step closer. we know how vecna attacks." said robin, trying to bring up the mood a bit.

"and where he attacks from." lucas added.

"so, now we just need to sneak into his lair in the upside down and drive a stake through his heart." max planned.

"if he even has one." jason said. he out of everyone in the group was affected most by the deaths. first one of his friends, then another, and now the girl he loved? no way would he let vecna get away with that.

"a stake, is he like a vamp- is he a vampire?" said steve, becoming progressively more scared.

"it was a metaphor." max said, her tone calling him a dumbass.

"a bullet should work on him, right?" eddie questioned.

"lets chop his head off." said lucas and y/n simultaneously. the pair looked at each other, their eyes saying "smart."

"all of the above. but we can't do any of that until we find a way into the upside down." nancy said. everyone was immediately stressed.

"we need el to get her powers back." said y/n referencing the girl who was like her sister.

"yeah, everything was so much easier when we had her. we knew this girl, she had like-" steve got cut off.

"super powers, yeah you mentioned her." said jason. eddie had been thinking the same thing.

"hey, hendersons not uh, cursed right?" eddie said, referencing the boy who was pacing back and forth and muttering under his breath.

"no hes not cursed. mental? absolutely." steve said.

"BOOOOOM!" dustin screamed, startling everyone else in the group. "bada bada boom.....i was RIGHT! skull rock was north." he said. y/n and jason couldn't believe he was still on this, there were more important matters at hand.

"seriously? this is skull rock! okay? you're 100% wrong." steve yelled at dustin.

"yes, and no. this compass worked correctly when we left the wheelers. it was correct when we got in the car on curly. but it started to slip the further east we went... now it's way off. when i was leading us here, i wasn't wrong the compass was." dustin said in monologue form.

"you're using faulty equipment. you're still wrong." said jason, becoming annoyed with the boy.

"except it isn't faulty. lucas you remember what can affect a compass?" dustin questioned.

"an electromagnetic field." he said, coming to a realization.

"yep. in the presence of a stronger electromagnetic field, the needle will deflect towards that power." as soon as dustin said that, nancy, max, and y/n realized what he was onto.

"so either there's so super big magnet around here or.. there's a gate." y/n finished for dustin.

"but that doesn't make sense? we're nowhere near the lab." nancy questioned.

"but what if, somehow theres another gate. one that we don't know about. it'd be way less powerful." dustin said.

"how- why?" steve asked.

"no idea. all i know is something is causing this disturbance, and the last time we've seen something like it, it was a gate. and i really hope it is because then we'd have a chance at freeing max and y/n from this curse." dustin said, proceeding to walk off and back down the hill.

"where are you going? last time i checked eddie is still a wanted man? we can't just go for a hike in the woods dude." said jason.

"this little steel capsule might be a way to save max, y/n, and eddie." dustin said, emphasizing the and.

"what say you, eddie the banished?" dustin asked.

"i say you're asking me to follow you into mordor, which if i'm totally straight with you, i think is a really bad idea. but the shire is burning, so mordor it is." eddie said. his seeming DnD reference caused dustin to jump up and down happily like a little girl.

with that, their group began descending back to earth from skull rock. jason and y/n held hands the entire time, sticking behind most of the group, only lucas and max remained behind them.

"so, y/n listen.." jason said, grabbing y/n's attention.

"i was thinking, maybe when all of this is over.. i could take you out? like, on a date." jason said, anyone in their right mind could see that he was nervous.

"really? you'd actually want to?" y/n questioned. she'd always wanted to be with jason, so you really couldn't blame her for being suprised.

"yeah? i mean, i guess i've always really liked you, you know? like, romantically." he said.

"well.. then yes, jason. i'd love to go out with you." y/n said. her words made jason's face light up, and for the rest of the walk, they made their plans. they'd meet on friday and go to a small diner at the edge of hawkins. jason would pick her up at 7. the pair was beyond excited, but for now, they had to fight some demons.

yayyyy! part twoo! i hope you guys enjoy, please feel free (as always) to send questions and comments in my questions box!

(reblogs and comments are appriciated! <3)

[soulmate-game]

New fic *test*

New Bio!dad Bruce story? I’m testing out this first chapter, and if I like where it’s going I might add it to my growing pile of WIPs. If I have inspiration, I might as well use it. Because of life events stressing me the hell out, I’m throwing any writing plans out the window and I’m purely gonna write to destress right now. Whether that means updating THG or not, or continuing Maribat March, we’ll just have to see how this all pans out. Things are subject to day-to-day change.

I got inspiration from this from rereading my day 1 story for Bio!dad Bruce Wayne month from last year. I’m just gonna change a few things.

—*—*—*—*—*

For once, an unfamiliar face attracted the attention of everyone who caught even a glimpse of them. It wasn’t even because of the person themselves at first, but their dress. The skirt like the most fantastical of storybook ball gowns, fluffy layers of satin over a luxurious petticoat, with a stunning pink floral pattern whose busy appearance was tastefully offset by a shorter, sheer layer of leaf green tulle artistically weaved and somehow sculpted over the floral in order to tame it. The effect turned what should be a grandmotherly pattern into something softer, sophisticated and youthful and yet also reminiscent of fairytale princesses. Over top the short layer of green tulle was an even shorter later of white tulle, almost invisible except for the elegant embroidery of crystal-white vines that twined all over it, connecting the green below it to the bottom-most floral pattern and oddly adding a layer of childishness instead of maturity. At the waist of the dress was a dark plum pink satin ribbon, to separate the elaborate ballgown skirt from the bodice. Attached to the simple ribbon was a large brooch of fabric flowers, with a single plastic ladybug in the center.

The bodice of the dress came up into a cheongsam neckline, but was sleeveless. It was a simple design, of half green and half dark pink, with a white border separating the two. The white border had expertly done embroideries in a soft silver thread that would only be visible close up, the images the thread made being that of fairies and ladybugs dancing around one another.

It was, all in all, a stunning display that made the small eurasian woman wearing them look like absolute royalty. Perhaps a long lost fairy princess. Her black-blue hair was even done up in elaborate looping braids and a braided bun, with silver and green pins that further completed the regal ensemble. And yes, while the expertly done dress was what initially captivated her current audience, it was not what kept them from leaving her alone. That was all her personality, bubbly and bright as her blinding smile. It was a sunny disposition that very few people present had any exposure to at all, and it drew them like a sunflower to the daylight. They could not help but flock closer, or even just stand back and keep themselves turned to her presence. Already she had been at the gala for two hours, but there was no issue. She just kept proving her generosity, admitting she had donated both a dress and a suit of her own making to the charity auction that would begin soon, one of the main attractions of the gala. She skillfully charmed the more snooty of the attendants, and artfully twisted her words so that they felt compelled to donate more money that they truly had no use for. Later, they would remember their donation and wonder what compelled it, but come up with no satisfying answer.

And yet she was entirely unaware of her more silent audience, who stood back and observed. Truth be told, every one of them was glad to not be the center of that attention for a change, to have room to breathe for so long at an event where usually that commodity was so scarce that it demanded a fierce competition for. Compared to her garden of color, they were all shadows in shades of blacks and blues and whites, with a touch of red here and there that was entirely too thematic for their home city. The one who sported a royal blue suit tilted his head at the scene they were all calmly witnessing, his bright azure eyes glittering.

“She’s like magic,” he mused, clearly enchanted despite having not said a single word to the woman. “Perfect socialite. She’s kind, generous, she made that dress and the ones she donated to the auction herself so she’s obviously got an intimidating amount of skill for her age. She even tricks those old fuddy-duddies into spending money. It’s like a dream come true!”

“I don't trust it,” the one to his right said, a man just a few inches shorter in a classic black suit with a red dress shirt underneath. He absently swept his bangs away from his face as he narrowed his eyes at the woman. “It seems too perfect. She doesn’t have any identifiable character flaw, except maybe being a little clumsy and too energetic. She does babble a little… but nothing that actually suggests any depth besides her just being— good. That’s impossible, and I don’t trust it.”

“Tt. I agree with Drake for once. She seems entirely too comfortable with this setting, despite her blushes and rambles,” the one who spoke this like was taller, clearly a teen in the middle of his growth spurt. He, too, wore a plain black suit but his had subtle charcoal embroidery and he wore an emerald-green dress shirt under it that made his matching eyes gleam dangerously. “It seems almost playacted. Expertly so, but nonetheless not entirely genuine.”

“Wow, not many pick up on that. I’m gonna give your observations a solid eight out of ten. They’re all perfectly sound, but not quite complete,” a new voice made all of the silent group stiffen— somehow they had been snuck up on. The newcomer smirked at them as if having fully expected their reaction but still being pleased at being able to evoke it. This was yet another stunner; far too much color in her outfit to be a Gotham native, and far too much skill in the construction for it to signify anything less than extreme influence. She had bright golden-blond hair that was coiled into a low bun, with her bangs artfully curled and arranged to display her crystal blue eyes.

In contrast to the garden-themed dress of the Eurasian woman who had garnered their attention at first, this newcomer was wearing a pantsuit. It was all in a dark honey-gold, in a stiff fabric with construction that made it lay entirely in perfect, straight lines and hug her form in the right places. Black embroidery decorated the long, flared sleeves and pant legs and dripped around the square neckline like a faux necklace. A cape made out of the same material as the rest of the pantsuit was draped on one shoulder. It started out as the same honey-gold color, but it became a gradient as it faded to a solid black at the ends. Gold thread embroidery decorated the solid black bottom of the cape in delicate, deceptively simplistic swirls. The top half of the pantsuit was clearly inspired by military garb, simultaneously rigidly constructed yet fitted, with circular onyx buttons going down the center of the chest and a thick metal belt, all in swirling silver and black, sat perfectly clasped around her waist. It was far more solid-colored and simplistic compared to the fairytale dress in the center, but no less show stopping and luxurious. It simply showcased an entirely different attitude, almost as if the two women could never get along if their personalities matched their outfits.

“And who are you?” The man who had been the center of the group of shadow-like adults spoke up, back straightening to milk every speck of his generous six-feet-and-three-inches of height. This was none other than Bruce Wayne, the host of this annual charity gala. And normally, his current stance would either intimidate or utterly charm whoever it was directed at— but not this pantsuit-clad blond warrior. Her smirk merely widened, and her blue eyes took on a slight shade of teal as if trying to mimic the dangerous ocean depths.

“I am Chloe Bourgeois, the daughter of Andre Bourgeois, the mayor of Paris, and Audrey Bourgeois, the Style Queen. It’s nice to meet you again, Monsieur Wayne,” she introduced herself imperiously. “I also happen to be the best friend of the girl you were just staring at.”

Bruce nodded, but had trouble reconciling this clear powerhouse of a woman with the bratty and entitled preteen he had met years ago, at the last gala she had attended with her mother. “Of course, I didn’t recognize you at first Chloe. You’ve grown a lot since the last Gala I saw you at.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose, clearly not appreciating the reminder. “I was a bitch,” she admitted easily, seemingly not at all bothered by the confession. It caused not only Bruce but also the oldest three of his sons, who had all also met her in the past, to blink in silent shock. “Things have changed. Paris is apparently the perfect chaotic environment right now to promote emotional growth and smack spoiled kids over the head with reality,” she shrugged. Part of the reason her and her whole class had even been able to come to the Gala in the first place was the fact that Bruce wanted to offer the most attacked group of Parisians a respite and some support from their crazy lives. The fact that even Gotham seemed sane in comparison to Paris was a bit of a hard hit for both involved parties, but in the end everyone understood that “more sane” didn’t always equate with “less dangerous.” Considering all that, Chloe had no reason to sugarcoat the situation in her home city. “But it wasn’t easy at all, and Marinette was largely responsible for my improvement too.”

“Marinette?” The heathen who somehow got away with attending a gala in a black leather jacket over a dress shirt and suit pants asked, raising a brow. Chloe nodded.

“The girl you were just goggling at. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president and resident workaholic. Does she ever sleep? Nobody knows,” Chloe shrugged.

The blue-suited man, Dick Grayson, shot a suspicious glance at Tim, who was standing to his right, as if he was worried his brother had made a female clone of himself just so he could continue to work hard and never rest. Tim ignored him and sipped from the thermos of coffee he had somehow snuck in.

Bruce cleared his throat to bring the focus back onto himself, and shot his most charming smile at Chloe. “They would have known who she was, if they had read the brief information I gave them about your class. But they never do listen to me,” he complained with good humor. “But back to the original topic, Miss Bourgeois, do you care to correct us on how our observations are lacking?”

Chloe laughed easily, smiling and nodding to indicate Marinette, still stuck in a circle of socialites and not seeming the least bit worn out.

“Of course. First; She is not completely acting. She really is like magic sometimes— disgustingly kind, generous, far too willing to help just about anyone for just about any reason. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met, as much as it pains me to admit it. But she is exaggerating her personality a bit and hiding the parts she doesn’t want anyone to see, so there is a little acting involved. Just not as much as you seem to think,” Chloe then waved her arm in a flourish as if she were presenting Marinette to them. “In short; behold Mari Dupain-Cheng, the ridiculously likeable, disgustingly cute, extremely philanthropic mask that she shows everyone at public events like this. You don’t see any of the insomnia, or the anxiety, or the self doubt. Just the parts she wants you to see, accompanied with a smile to blind you to everything else,” her all-too-deep blue eyes settled back on Bruce then, a knowing glint shining in them. “Don’t you think that’s ridiculously similar to Brucie Wayne for you, Monsieur? Utterly, ridiculously, similar?”

Bruce grit his teeth. He hadn’t expected anyone else to know about his exceptionally well hidden secret, not even his kids had caught on or found his buried evidence yet. Yet his heiress comes up, nearly flaunting her knowledge in his face with all too many unspoken questions and criticisms.

And her cryptic words had succeeded in making all of his kids look at him with extreme suspicion. Shit.

“What are you saying, Miss Bourgeois?” he cautiously prodded. She hummed noncommittally before dropping the bomb all too casually;

“I’m saying I’ve seen her adoption papers, and you won’t be able to run from her for long Monsieur Wayne. As soon as she gets an opening, she’s going to pounce,” Chloe’s eyes glittered dangerously again. “And nowadays, Marinette doesn’t ever let people escape her. Your problem with adoption has created a rather unique problem, you know. You’re at fault for a large majority of her self confidence issues, and I want you to know that I am not going to forget or forgive that anytime soon.”

“Bruce,” Jason’s voice was dark and threatening. “What is she talking about?”

“Something we don’t want getting in the tabloids,” Yet another new voice popped up, allowing Chloe to smugly sink back into the background.

Somewhere during their discussion, Marinette had ambushed them.

“Chloe and I are very good at locating all the reporters in a room and distracting them, but we’re not infallible and this event has far too much coverage,” Her smile reeked confidence and charm, but this close all the Waynes could see the doubt hiding in her bluebell eyes. “Since I’m about to turn eighteen, I figured this would be as good a time as any to finally confront you. I want to make it clear that I seek nothing from you, except the occasional contact. I would like to keep in touch, if nothing else. But if you are adverse to that… then at least answer my questions after the gala,” her eyes developed a hint of carefully controlled desperation. “Please.”

Bruce met her eyes evenly, trying to read her. But she was difficult, simultaneously too many emotions to sort through in her demeanor and much too little. After an extremely tense moment of silence, his voice came out barely above a whisper:

“You do not want anybody to know?”

And hell, if she didn’t recognize the hidden vulnerability in his voice as the very same she heard in her own far too often. In a much tamer version of her own rambling, he went on:

“I can keep it silent if that is what you want. But I want you to know that I will not be adverse to you admitting it anywhere. I don’t expect you to change your name, but I would not be ashamed of the truth getting out. I am not ashamed of it, of you.”

Marinette’s smile grew a little watery. She had to clear her throat to keep herself from tearing up. “Maybe eventually, but not yet. I… I want to stay a little more anonymous for now. It’s one thing to be a well known designer with good connections. It’s an entirely different thing to be…”

“A Wayne?” Bruce finished, ignoring the daggers that were being stared into his back. “I understand completely.

“Father,” Damian’s voice was all sharp edges and rapidly suppressed panic. “What. Is going. On?”

Marinette shot him an apologetic smile. “Apparently, eighteen years ago, his prerogative was to put the child he actually knew about up for adoption when the mother died in childbirth,” her voice was once again only barely loud enough for them to hear, since she didn’t want any eavesdroppers. “Imagine my surprise when I find out he completely flipped sides only months later.”

--*--*--*--*--*

Hey, so please share your feedback on this. This is just to test out a possible new bio dad, multichapter fic and this is the opening scene I'm trying out. If you like it, please tell me what you like about it and please suggest titles for the story! I love you guys' feedback so much!

[quartzwriting]

The Agent and Her Sorcerer

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: You, an agent who works with The Avengers, comes back to the compound to find that Doctor Strange has brought you coffee.

Warnings: mentions of drinking and doing the dirty

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev | Things have been busy, so has mental heath things, so idk when new things will come out. I love this piece tho so I hope this makes up for it. 

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Gif by @cumberbatchlives

Technically a sequel to The Sorcerer and The Agent

When you stepped off the jet and onto the landing, you let out a long breath of relief. That field mission was finally over. It was an early call that got you out of bed before the sun came up. Too early for your body to function, but with the encouragement of coffee and Captain Rogers forcing you out of bed, you conquered the task. You checked your phone for the time, it was now around noon. You were ready to sit down, maybe even take a nap. You desperately needed a break.

But you knew you would not be able to rest.

Tony was already on your ass. He came out of nowhere, scaring the life back into you, and shoved a tablet in your hands. "Before you file your report, you got another one."

You groaned, falling into step beside him to make your way into the building. "Already?"

Tony pushed a few things on your tablet and an image came up. It was one of the objects you had recovered from this morning's mission. On the side was a stream of jumbled letters and numbers.

"Decoding, seriously?"

Tony shrugged, with a grin on his face that you wanted to punch off. "Hey, you're best for the job."

"Can't FRIDAY just run through it?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

You glared at him.

"Come on, you got this."

You rolled your eyes, "Fine. Only because it might give us a new lead."

"Atta girl! Don't stress yourself out."

You were already stressed.

"Oh and by the way, someone in the lounge is here to see you."

After a brief moment of surprise, you knew who it was. Tony saw the smile appear on your face, then winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him.

You tucked the tablet under your arm and made your way to the lounge. Maybe you were getting a little break before continuing for the day after all. A small amount of energy that came from your happiness pushed you forwards.

When you got there, sure enough, there he was.

"Hey, I thought you might want coffee."

You chuckled. Of course you wanted coffee.

Stephen Strange had a coffee tray in his hands that had two cups in it. He was standing around looking a little awkward, a little out of place at the compound. He looked relived to see you, as if anyone else in the doorway would made him embarrassed. His serious demeanor was no where in sight, a hint of warmth in his cheeks.

He wasn't wearing his sorcerer robes, but casual clothes. A jacket, dark jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, simple things that you got to see him in more often now. You liked it. Very much.

Without any hesitation, you made your way over to him. Giving him a big smile the entire way. You put your tablet down so you could take the cup he was holding out for you. "Thank you." Your gloved hands brushed against his bare shaking ones. The contact was enough to widen your smile.

"Don't mention it."

"Hi! How are you? What's new?" You asked him, leaning one hand on a table and sipping your coffee with the other.

Stephen let out a breath, "Well this morning I helped to try and close a dimensional rip in space time. If we hadn't managed to close it then it would have swallowed an entire country."

"Sounds exciting, Doctor." You hid a smirk behind a look of playfully exaggerated interest.

"Oh it was." He was trying to hide a smirk too, "How about you, Agent (L/N)?" His cheek twitched, trying desperately to not let that smirk slide through.

"Well I just came back from a mission in London where an very well hidden Hydra base was found. There were a few of their agents there, kicked some ass, and managed to recover some of their tech and files. You know, normal things."

"This is a very casual conversation despite its content." He commented.

You both broke after that, smirks turning into fits of chuckles. You reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

The two of you were developing into a 'thing' recently. Whenever he would come to the compound, you would have your eye on him. And you could feel his eye on you as well. It had been going back and forth for a while, finding excuses to talk to each other and purposely being in the same room as one another. Casual attraction.

You noticed the little details in him. Taking every opportunity to make a snarky comment during meetings. Dedication and a 'cool calm' overtaking him whenever disusing anything serious. His gaze of sparkling blue, sharp features, and welcoming smile. The very presence of him either made your heart stop or quicken, sometimes both simultaneously.

Whenever you were both having a conversation, whether for work or just friendly chatter, you found yourself entranced by him. His voice, his gorgeous face, his personality. Not casual attraction anymore, you were sightly obsessed.

But there was always this look in his eyes, that he recognized your attraction to him. And a look that told you he had similar emotions. You just knew it. You paid attention to him. You noticed him paying attention to you with interest, catching him staring on occasion.

Things had went from zero to one hundred at a party that Tony threw last week. You had a little too much to drink. Stephen did too. You found yourselves alone. Things escalated from there. You woke up the next morning in his bed in the New York sanctum, cuddled in his arms. You both went out for breakfast that morning. He took you out for dinner a day after.

Ever since then, he shows up at the compound when he can, or calls you to ask how you are doing. Work for both of you has gotten pretty busy lately so finding time to go out together was hard. But you promised each other another date as soon as you both were free.

This was a long time coming, you both knew that. All it took was one little push. But you did not expect that push to be a little alcohol. It happened anyways, so you decided to take it without complaints.

Stephen looked around, making sure no one else was in the room to intrude. After confirming, he leaned down and stole a kiss from you. You giggled and let him, leaning up into him. He pulled away to let you have another sip of your coffee.

He wasn't drinking from his own cup. You felt his eyes on you. It did not take long to figure out why. You were still in your uniform, one that is similar to Natasha's. Black bodysuit, weapons belt. Skin tight. A blush crept up on your face, some memories coming back from that night. He has seen you wearing this before, but now his gaze had a different weight to it.

"Liking the view, Strange?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and mischief glittering in your eyes.

He shrugged, "Now that I know what it all looks like, I like the view even more." Casual. Calm. Cocky.

You playfully smacked him on the shoulder, bringing his hint of a smile into light. Tucking the tablet under your arm, coffee in one hand and Stephen's own hand in another, you pulled him over to one of the couches. The two of you sat down. "I have a little tech and paperwork to do right now. You're welcome to stay while I do it, if you're free."

He relaxed beside you, an arm slinging over the back of the couch. "I've got time. Wong is watching the Sanctum, I have the afternoon off."

"Maybe if I finish early we can go out?" You asked with a perky smile.

He gestured to your open tablet. "Better get to work then." You laughed, quickly kissed him, and did get to work. You explained to him your tasks, the decoding you needed to do and then fill out your mission report file. He seemed interested, looking over your shoulder the whole time as you explained your process. He watched you complete the decoding, send the results to the cloud, and start typing away at your morning's mission report.

Stephen's presence behind you the entire time was comforting, taking away some of the stress of your busy work. His warmth and the smell of coffee in the air made you content. You felt him start to fiddle with the tails of your hair, you jokingly swatting him away before he went right back to it.

During the breakfast date, and the dinner date, you saw more little things about him you liked. There was curiosity and interest in his eyes. Behind that serious shell was gentleness and kindness, a full heart who thinks for others. It was like after that night, you got to see the real Stephen Strange, not the Sorcerer Supreme. He was a gentle lover, even drunk, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Eating out together, he was a gentleman. Seeing him around the compound, he seemed to be smiling more.

You never knew the great Doctor Stephen Strange was a total softy. It made you like him even more.

While writing, you found yourself putting extra care into reviewing the mission and its details. This may have been caused by knowing Stephen was watching your every move and you wanted to make a good impression of your work ethic. You made sure to skim through for any mistakes or typos in your writing as well. After some time, discarded cups on the coffee table and Stephen now subtly nuzzling your neck, you submitted your report.

"Do you have to do that after every mission?" The man who was practically wrapping his entire body around yours on the couch asked.

"Yeah. That was one of the longer ones. Most things were more straightforward this time around, but I did a lot in London today." You heaved a sigh, momentary wiggled out of Stephen's arms to plunk your tablet down on the coffee table, and relaxed back into the couch.

"Have anything else to do?" He asked.

"Not currently." You turned to him, now giving him your full attention. He seemed to like it.

"Well then, maybe you and me can go grab lunch?"

"I'd like that."

You watched his eyes dip down, briefly glancing at your lips before looking back up at your eyes. You caught him. This told you what he was thinking about, and soon you were thinking about it yourself. And then you were doing it. One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other found your waist as he kissed you. Your hands tangled around his neck and up into his hair gently.

It was like you lost track of time. You just focused on Stephen, a hand of his running over the fabric of your tight uniform.

"I'm glad Tony threw that party."

You and Stephen urgently parted at the interruption. Standing in the doorway, Steve and Natasha had smug grins. They were still in their uniforms from the mission, Steve's shield strapped across his back. You groaned.

When you told only one person that you went home with Stephen that night, it had spread through the compound like wildfire. Your coworkers all knew, and they were relieved. Finally, they had said. You must have not noticed how obvious you and Stephen's electric stares and intrigued chatter were.

You were a little embarrassed at being caught making out, but the embarrassment practically radiated off Stephen. He immediately straightened upright and cleared his throat. Apparently he did not show his vulnerable side to anyone but you, him instantly clicking back into a neutral expression when facing someone else.

Nat got right to the point, ignoring the irritated look on your face, "We got a new lead. There was a new location marked in one of their files found in London. Venice. We leave in thirty."

A frown glazed your features. You were really looking forward to spending some time with Stephen again. You looked at Stephen, who shared a mutual disappointed look in his eyes. But you knew that he would go let you work. It was annoying.

It wouldn't hurt to ask. Would it?

You stood up from the couch, grabbing your tablet to pull up your report again. You strided towards your bosses, a lick of confidence in your posture.

"Um actually I was kinda hoping if I could get the rest of the day off." You sang.

Steve let out a breath in a smug laugh, while Nat was hiding one of her own.

With a smile, you handed Nat your tablet, the mission report on the screen. Clean, detailed, care put into it, reflecting your hard work you had accomplished all morning. You saw her eyes look it over, the captain leaning in to do the same.

"You did work hard this morning." Steve pointed out.

"And you did eventually save our asses in the end." Nat added.

As you said to Stephen earlier, you did kick ass during the mission.

You gave them a look of hope. It was obvious what you wanted, they both knew it. For some reason you felt like they were lengthening the moment to tease you. To leave you in anticipation.

After what felt like minutes instead of seconds, the two turned to each other and exchanged expressions. Steve nodded. Natasha handed back your tablet.

"Go play with your sorcerer and his magic hands." Natasha whispered to you with a wink. A deep blush crept up onto your neck, and you saw her smirk. Scrunching your face up in a mock sneer, you snatched your tablet back.

"Have fun, you two." Steve said as a goodbye, and him and Natasha left the lounge to get ready for part two of today's investigation.

You turned back to Stephen. He had an impressed look on his face. Now standing, he threw away your empty coffee cups in a nearby bin."You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Too bad. Already did." You shrugged, sauntering back over to stand in front of him.

Stephen gave you a smile, and opened a slingring portal right in front of you both. "Then lets go."

You put down your tablet and went to empty your weapons belt. "I'm still in uniform, Stephen." You laughed, "I should go change first."

The sorcerer snapped his fingers, and your skintight Avengers uniform turned into a pair of leggings and a blouse. An outfit Stephen had complimented you on last week. You were surprised he remembered it.

You rolled your eyes at him, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the portal.

[hansolmates]

one more time (m)

pairing; (former) popular!jk x (former) normie!reader summary; it’s been two years since you’ve seen your former tryst jeon jungkook. you didn’t expect him to be applying for the internship you’re currently running, along with the rate your heart is running at the sight of him in a black suit. genre/warnings; self-deprecating language, your typical (future) co-workers!au, jungkook is a piner and so is oc, a lil bit of sneaking around, adulting, a mutual understanding of feelings (finally!!) smut in the form of—soft n’ dirty baybee, unprotected, cockwarming, overstimulation, minor praise and possession kink, cumplay, &you know that they gon have heart eyes the entire time w.c; 7.3k a/n; darn why am i so... emotional over this??? it started out as a meaningless drabble series but with all my lovely readers and moots it’s grown into such a fun, introspective series. thank u for loving this and joining me on this journey. for those of u who are new to this series feel free to read popular-ish first or as a standalone! [popular-ish masterlist]

if you’ve enjoyed this (whether as a standalone or as a series) please consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨✨✨

“A mess, I’m a mess,” you sing-song to yourself, organizing the manuals on the clear glass by subject and size. The applications of all your new interns are alphabetized, not a form out of place. Everything’s perfect. “Alright Jessica, all twenty of the interns are accounted for.” 

“Actually, there’s twenty-three,” Jessica quips, and you let your shoulders slump. Being part of the recruiting team of your company has been simultaneously exciting and stressful. Stressful because of the constant travel, but otherwise exciting because you loved your internship at your current company. You remember how nervous you were two years ago, and how much support and help you got from your recruiters. Applying to this team was a natural turn of events. 

“A-are you sure, Jess?” you look through all the applications, count the amount of nametags, triple check the chairs. You’re sweating through your blazer, wondering where you went wrong. 

The head of your recruiting team glues one hand to her hip, while the other hand is holding her iPad, scrolling with her thumb. You swallow, intimidated by Jessica’s golden wavy locks and her black-trimmed white Chanel pantsuit. 

“Yep, but don’t be too hard on yourself. I just added three more recruits last night. I’ll get the chairs and the apps are being printed. No worries,” Jessica assures, gesturing for you to hurry up and get outside, “Call the babies in!” your team leader waves her finger around like a magic wand, commanding you to the front lines. 

Krystal puts a hand on her shoulder, as always looking impeccable. She has virtually nothing to worry about. She’s a woman who has connections, courtesy of her team leader. “Let’s go, newbie,” she teases, pulling you through the door. 

The recruits in the lobby are wide-eyed and vibrant, and you feel a little nostalgic as you watch them line up in front of you and Krystal as you sign them in. You would dwell on the feeling more if it wasn’t for your exhaustion, so you decide you’ll get a chance to take a road down memory lane when you get to the hotel. 

“Name?” 

“Xu Minghao.” 

“Congrats Minghao, here’s your nametag and I’ll see you inside,” with a firm handshake, one recruiter is free to go. 

“Name?” 

“Chou Tzuyu.” 

“Congrats Tzuyu, here’s your name tag and I’ll see you inside,” she doesn’t go in straight away, and moves to the side of the door. “Actually,” you pause mid-handshake with another recruit, staring at the woman in curiosity, “my boyfriend just got a call last night that he was accepted in this year’s batch. Do you have his name?” 

“Yes, three more recruits were added,” you chirp, as if you totally did not hear that bit of information five minutes ago, “What’s his name—Jungkook?” 

The both of you blink at each other. One hand on Tzuyu’s shoulder, eyes wide and mirroring yours. Your heart falls straight to your stomach, wanting to be eaten by acids and bacteria so you can stop any possibility of feeling any lingering affection for the boy you fooled around with in undergrad. Everything about him screams professional. He’s clean cut, a pinstripe black suit you never thought he’d own, and his hair is neatly trimmed and pulled behind his ears. His shoulders look tall and broad under the slight padding, his biceps comfortably stretching against the dark fabric. The golden complexion remains the same however, from the honest brown eyes to the coral pink lips that would always smile at you. 

“Oh, so you do have his name!” Tzuyu clasps her hands together, delighted. He has a girlfriend, too. It’s then you realize you’ll be stuck with not just him, but her for the week. “You guys are so efficient. C’mon Kookie, let’s find some seats!” 

“I still gotta get my nametag,” he replies goodnaturedly, gesturing to you, “save us some seats in the front?” 

Tzuyu thinks nothing of it, squeezing his bicep before skipping off to the front row. Your eyes linger on her form, and it’s only then you realize how tall and intimidatingly pretty she looks in that plaid teddy bear brown skirt suit. You did not look that good when you were a budding undergrad. 

By this time, Krystal has taken all your other recruits from your line, regarding you with a raised brow. She’s fast with her attendance, so you know you don’t have much time. 

“I applied last minute,” Jungkook says, scratching his head, “was running out of options before graduation. I didn’t know you’d be one of my recruiters, though. Lucky me.” 

Jungkook and you never ended up keeping in contact, at least as of recent. A check-in message a few months in, a happy birthday or holiday greeting late at night. But two years later and those messages are automatic, with no feeling or personality. You never thought you’d see him again, no less in the city. 

“You just graduated with your masters, congrats,” you smile at Jungkook, although you’re sure the feigned emotion fails to reach your eyes, “IT Management, right?” 

“You remembered,” Jungkook brightens, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, “you look good.” 

“Oh please—”  you laugh to yourself, shaking your head, “I just got off a flight and I ran over in a two-day old suit, I don’t even have makeup on,” you didn’t feel this way in the morning, you just rushed to do the bare minimum to be enough and ran over to the convention hall. But now in the presence of Jungkook who looks so handsome and clean-cut, you can’t help but feel a little slighted at the sudden reunion. 

“You’re always beautiful,” Jungkook exhales, and you clutch your clipboard closer to your chest. 

You cough, an excuse for him to stop touching your shoulder, “You should go inside, it’s gonna start soon. We can catch up later.”

“Wait—” you make a scrunched up face that Jungkook can’t catch, but right in Krystal’s view. You can tell she’s laughing at you internally with her devious grin. “I just wanted to say, Tzuyu isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just…” 

“Fooling around?” you didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp, but you wanted this conversation over. You have a job to do and Jungkook is your emotional barrier. 

You and Jungkook used to fool around. 

Jungkook winces, looking younger in his monkey suit. “I mean if you give me a chance to explain later—”  

“Nametag, let’s go newbie.” Krystal slaps on the sticker herself, a little too hard if she asked. She doesn’t even bother to write his full name, just a bright green Jeon JK, IT Management tacked on his breast pocket, clashing with the gold pocket square. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook tucks his tail in for now, bowing at you and Krystal as he scurries inside. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Krystal doesn’t bother to comfort you or ask what’s up—not that you want her to, even though you do want a breather before you have to go up on that stage and explain the itinerary for a week. The only thing you can do is smooth out your skirt, brush away the flyaways on your hairstyle and plaster a company-paid smile on your face.

The autopilot switch is on throughout the rest of the morning. Not just because Jungkook’s around, but the new position has got you on livewire. You’re glad that you’re not wearing base makeup because you are absolutely melting with all the high beam lights all up in your face as you talk through the week’s activities. 

You could swear Jungkook clapped a little harder than most once you stopped talking, but maybe it’s because you’re not used to seeing Jungkook in the very front of a lecture. In fact, he was a very hard middle person, preferring not to show off his intelligence and let other people lead the discussion. Then again, it’s been two years, you don’t know how much he’s changed. 

Jessica caps off the seminar with a great kick-off, the happy hour. The recruitment team picks a four star restaurant under their hotel so the recruits can enjoy themselves before going off to the training facility for a week. 

And by training facility, you also mean yet another four-star hotel. You knew you made the right decision by joining this company because the benefits are impeccable, and value personal enjoyment just as much as they value work ethic. In the morning you and the recruits will be driving uptown to a private resort where there would be classes in the morning, and recoup in the evening. You’re very much looking forward to the infinity pool on the roof. 

The recruits are ushered out as soon as you’re done, and that’s when you step out of the shadows to clean up the chairs and the brochures left behind. Thankfully Jungkook is probably following the norm and going back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Once the room is completely empty, you rip off your blazer and let yourself relax. 

It’s going to be a long week. 

Jeon: where u @?

You: hotel room

Jeon: why? Thought we were all gonna have dinner together

You: nahhh, this night is for the recruits! You’ll be tired of our faces by the end of the week, enjoy it while you can 😉  have a good night

You sigh in contentment, relaxing further into the silk sheets. You just finished your skincare routine, letting some mindless drama play as the essences and serums sink into your skin. All you want is one Jungkook-free night. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck training him and Tzuyu for the week and you want to take tonight to emotionally prepare yourself. 

Your phone rings once more. 

Big Baddie Jessica Jung: krystal and i ordered takeout in the restaurant downstairs. Can u bring it to our  room? Plsssssss 

Little Baddie Krystal Jung: it’ll be faster if you do it, we even got u a lil somethin🍰🍰🍰

Taking in your outfit, you grimace. You’re dressed for bed, a large nightie with your hair pulled back and a little pink bunny tie headband on top. Can’t they get room service to send it up? You admire your boss but you don’t understand why she needs to display her power over and over, she already knows you’ll follow her to the ends of the earth. 

Quickly slipping into a pair of sneakers you run down the expanse of the hotel. It’s easy to spot where the recruits are, livin’ it up in the large restaurant that takes up half the space of the ground floor. Most of them are pretty drunk, hoping to sleep off the hangover on the four-hour bus ride. You have absolutely no judgement, two years ago you were in the same position. 

Thankfully you don’t have to go far into the restaurant, as the hostess immediately knows Jessica’s order. While you wait for her to go into the kitchen and get it you drum your fingers against the counter, hoping no one notices you. It’s akin to when you’re a teacher in a mall, hoping none of your students gawk at you in the middle of Victoria’s Secret. 

“Ah, well Jungkook and I aren’t official yet—but very soon.” 

Your ears perk up at the sweet voice. Tzuyu is leaning across the open bar next to the counter, sipping on a mango mojito. She’s dumped the blazer for the night, showing off her soft skin and slender arms with a sleeveless cream blouse. 

“Then where is he?” another recruiter asks, gesturing to the expanse of the lobby. 

“He’s not much of a party person,” Tzuyu shrugs, tipping back her drink. 

You scoff, plastering on a smile to the hostess as you grab your bags and walk as fast as you can out of the lobby. You’ve never felt more like an old hag until now. Sure, most of the recruits are younger than you, but seeing Tzuyu talk so freely about her relationship with Jungkook has you in a bit of a spiral. The day of graduation, you told Jungkook not to wait for you. Heck, you’re only interested in the idea of what you could’ve had with Jungkook. 

These thoughts only cloud you further as you jab the elevator buttons all the way up to the suites where you and the Jungs reside. You relax a little when you see a strawberry cheesecake sitting prettily on the top of their order, your name written on the label with a little heart. Hanging their bag on the door handle of their room, you make your way back to your suite. 

You freeze when you see a floppy-haired Jungkook roaming the hallway, looking like a clueless child hobbling around in slippers and wide eyes at any sparkly item that decorates the area. It doesn’t even look like he tried attending the happy hour tonight, dressed in an impossibly big heather grey sweatsuit that swallows his form. 

“Are you lost?” you ask tentatively, as if you’re talking to a toddler lost at the mall. 

Jungkook relaxes considerably at the sound of your voice, and he replies, “Was tryna find your room since you didn’t reply to my texts.”

“So… you decided to check all the rooms?” 

“Yep,” he pops the p with a smack of his lips, “I figured the recruiters would be far away from the party so I started at the top. Thankfully I got to Jessica’s room first. Didn’t have to knock on too many doors. Only one old man got annoyed at me.” 

“You’re crazy,” you chuckle, slipping in your keycard to let Jungkook in. 

“Fuck, this room all to yourself?” 

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to kick his slides to a corner of the wall, flopping atop your bed and clutching your baby blue koala plush in his arms. The king sized bed is enough for his legs to stretch comfortably without falling off the edge, and he eagerly pads his feet against the soft fabric. 

It warms you to think that Jungkook is comfy enough to lay on your bed and hug your stuffed animals, a semblance of friends that you’ve missed for such a long time. Last year the team you worked for was great, you loved the people and even now you consider some of them friends. This year the team is a little smaller, and since your two other co-workers are sisters, it’s a little harder to nudge yourself in the direction of friendship. 

As soon as you sit down against the headboard, Jungkook’s eyes soften. Everything feels so different and the same. The threadbare pajamas that either of you haven’t had the heart to throw away since they’re so damn comfy, yet  your bodies are a little more worn and your eyes a little more droopier than usual. 

“So,” Jungkook bites his lip, not in the sexy way, but the nervous way, “about Tzuyu—”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to explain yourself,” you slump on your corner of the bed, regarding Jungkook with guilty eyes. “I really shouldn’t be feeling the way I’m feeling. It isn’t fair and I don’t want to jeopardize your internship.”

“And… what are you feeling?” 

“Dumb things.” 

“Your feelings aren’t dumb.”

“This time they are.”

“I’ve always shared my feelings, it’s unfair that you never want to share yours,” Jungkook sits up, criss-cross applesauce, pensive. “Maybe it’s my fault for not making you feel comfortable enough to share, but I feel like the reason why we never worked out was because we never tried hard enough to have a proper conversation.” 

How could you have missed all the indicators, all the good words, all the kindness Jungkook has given you that last semester? “You’re absolutely right,” you let your insecurities, your apprehensiveness, get in the way. You think in two years you’d do better to eradicate this kind of behavior, but lately you haven’t had many friends to express your feelings to. “Tell you what, I’ll work harder to express how I feel. No exchanges, no nothings. I owe you this.” 

“You owe me nothing,” Jungkook smiles, “I just think it would be nice to y’know, talk. As friends.” 

“Right, friends.”

“So, will you hear me out about Tzuyu?” 

“Let me open my cake,” you pull out your bag with the cheesecake, which thankfully has two spoons, “it seems like we’ll be having that kind of conversation.” 

Everyone is more amicable because of food. According to Jungkook, Tzuyu has a hardcore, ten-year plan for her twenties. After a couple of dates with Jungkook, Tzuyu whips him into the plan. Mentions that she’s well-bred and has a family reputation to uphold. Says IT Management is something completely desirable in a partner, that he’s sensible and wonderful and would like to be committed full-time. 

“And she talked to her parents about me and said that I’m a good prospect for marriage. Like I’m another pillar in her plan!” Jungkook cries, taking a monstrously sized bite of your cheesecake, wallowing away.

This is akin to sleepovers you’ve always wanted to have in high school, down to the food gorging. You can’t help but be fascinated, “So are you wrapped up in an engagement? Is this a scary rendition of Crazy Rich Asians?” 

“You just can’t turn a one-eighty like that on a fifth date,” Jungkook shakes his head, reeling at the emotional whiplash, “she’s really nice. Really organized, really perfect. It really intimidates me.”

“Is she what you reaaaally want?” you can’t help but ask, rolling your eyes at the excessive use of the word, and tamp down the pain in your stomach by eating a forkful of creamy cheesecake. 

“I don’t know!” Jungkook replies exasperatedly, “Obviously I’m worried since she wants to put a ring on it. I told her she needs to back off. Right after the seminar I said she had no right telling other people we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. She didn’t say much, just frowned and walked away.” 

You roll your eyes, scraping the leftover graham cracker crust from the edge of the plastic plate. “According to her, I heard you two are planning to make it official very soon.” 

His eyes widen, “I really bring girl trouble wherever I go, don’t I?” 

“Since I’ve known you,” you half-joke, putting away the plastic cutlery on the nightstand. 

You two sit in silence for a few moments, letting the television fill the room with mindless static about some sappy Hallmark movie. Tentatively, you land a hand on Jungkook’s knee. He looks down at your tiny fingers, giving his skin an experimental squeeze of comfort. 

“I don’t want her,” he finally says. 

“Okay,” you reply, “you won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to. I can arrange the groups this week so you don’t have to be around—”

“Give me one week,” his eyes flash to yours, dark and sharp.

“Jungkook. You have your determined face on,” it makes you sweat.  

“Because I’m determined to win you over, once and for all,” you eyes widen, and Jungkook visibly freezes, “was that too much? I’m kind of on an emotional high today. I didn’t expect to see you today and it kind of threw me into a loop. I thought I might be running into you once I started my internship but I didn’t think you’d be my recruiter. And then you went on that stage all bad-ass talking about work and you looked so gorgeous in your suit and I was so proud knowing you made it and IrealizedhowmuchImissedyou—” 

“Jungkook, slower,” you’re feeling a little woozy as well, equally overwhelmed. “You’re just saying this because you didn’t expect to see me—” 

“You’re deflecting, again.” 

“I’m scared, okay?” you blurt, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re right, this is all so sudden. So can’t we just start being friends and see if it takes us somewhere? You don’t have to win me over, just support me like I’ll support you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook moves up the bed, so he’s leaning against the headboard as well. His long legs stretch farther than yours, and it feels oddly domestic as you talk it out and stare at the television screen. “I’m just, worried I’m running out of time.” 

“I'm not going anywhere this time.” 

“I know,” Jungkook shakes his head, ridding himself of his torrid thoughts. Conceding, he gestures to the television, pulling out the remote under your pillow, “wanna watch television, or catch up?” 

You last about an hour until you knock out. However, Jungkook keeps you entertained up until that moment, as you exchange your lives and stresses. Everything meshes together, you’re not sure if it’s the charm that comes with late night talks, but you feel like you can talk to Jungkook about anything if given the time. You melt when he strokes your hair till the last minute, wishing you a goodnight and a promise of more. 

“Okay, I’ve gone over most of the work ethics in the manual,” you smile nervously when you see your glazed over recruits, nearly falling off their chairs. Even Krystal is bored out of her mind, discreetly playing with her phone in the back under her manual. Of course you’d get stuck with teaching the boring classes. “Any last minute questions before we head off for dinner?” 

Tzuyu shoots her hand up, “Are romantic relationships allowed in the workplace?” 

Jungkook promptly chokes on his water bottle. He looks up at you, panicked. Ignoring his terror, you paint on a thin smile towards the young woman, “Like I mentioned earlier, romantic relationships between employees are not frowned upon, so long as you’re not working under or over someone in the same department.” 

“Right, just wanted to make sure,” Tzuyu is all chipper smiles as she thanks you.  

If you were still twenty-one, you’d gag at the pointed look she sends Jungkook. They’re sitting diagonal from each other, and Jungkook makes a point to pretend to be interested in your lecture until the very end. 

You’re halfway done with recruitment week, and while you’re not shocked at how fast the week has gone by, you’re fairly disappointed that Jungkook and you haven’t had time to meet up in private. So far it’s been easy enough to keep your friendship (and past sexual relationship) a secret, but something dark and eager tells you how much you want more. The recruiters are eager to leave, all twenty-three of them grouping off and talking about what they want to eat for dinner. Everyone except a certain dark-haired fellow, who’s hair is currently bouncing off it’s styled coiff, wanting to return to it’s normal non-gelled self. 

“Kookie,” you raise a brow at the interaction, Tzuyu leaning over her chair to Jungkook’s, “wanna get dinner tonight?” 

Jungkook’s taking an excruciatingly long time to pack his things, raising a brow at her, “I’ve told you already, I don’t want to be involved in whatever plans you have.” 

“Oh-kay,” Tzuyu rocks back and forth on her oxford heels, pursing her magenta pink lips, “then why don’t we at least walk back to the hotel together? I really want to talk about some things that might change your mind.”

“Nothing will change my mind,” Jungkook’s determined face has been staying strong for the week, from the way he makes sure he’s first in your class to the simple “good morning” and “good night” texts you exchange. “Besides, I have a date tonight. And I really want to talk to the recruiters about a personal work matter, so can you please leave?”  

You try not to snort at how blatant Jungkook was being. You pretend to organize your folders, throwing whatever random notes you have in your bag for later. 

“A date,” she twitches,  “with who?” 

“Someone that doesn’t treat me like a stepping stone in her career path,” Jungkook deadpans, and that’s all it takes for Tzuyu to huff and walk away from the hall. 

You think Tzuyu is like a bug, relatively harmless, but someone who gets on your nerves. 

“A date, huh?” Krystal quotes, finally looking up from her phone. Her sharp, cat-eyes linger at the door, wondering if Tzuyu is going to pop out and try to drag Jungkook by the reins. Finally, she plants her stare between you and Jungkook. “So, you two fucking?” 

“Former fucking,” Jungkook supplies helpfully, and you jump off your podium to elbow him in the ribs, “ow—what?” 

“You just don’t tell Krystal we’re fucking!” 

“Former fucking,” he chastises, but the eyes he sends you are a little sultry, and you wonder if he’s thinking of fucking in the future. You reel yourself back, focusing on the third party.

But you anticipate that Krystal couldn’t care less, and you’re grateful for that. While a smaller work team means a smaller possibility of close work relationships, you do like the drama-free environment. “Like you said,” Krystal shrugs, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder, “romantic relationships in the workplace are not frowned upon.” 

You wring your hands between your bag when Krystal finally makes her getaway, and you look up at Jungkook. “So,” you smile wryly, “you have a date tonight, huh?” 

“With a pretty working woman,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his chest, “that is, if she’ll have me.” 

“Consider yourself taken.”  

Jungkook and you sneak away to your suite once again. To your surprise, the suite is decorated in rose petals and a bottle of champagne sits in an ice bath on your bedside. A large pizza pie sits beautifully on your coffee table, and the television is playing lo-fi hip-hop. 

You feed Jungkook champagne-dipped strawberries as you gorge on the joy that is baked bread and cheese. 

And when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet, like you have all the time in the world. 

It’s the last day of recruitment week, and all classes ended at noon so the interns can use all the resort’s amenities to the fullest. Many of the interns, including yourself, Jessica and Krystal, are on the rooftop celebrating a successful workweek. Staff and interns alike are buzzing around, eager to top off their weekend with some relaxation and sun. 

Jungkook is with his new team, conversing with other IT employees. You try not to stare too hard at your reignited flame, tipping back a cutely decorated glass of fruit. His arms ripple as he tips back the liquid. He’s wearing a tank top and you could swear his biceps have gotten meatier. Unfortunately you hold yourself back, after all the internship isn’t quite over and you still are a professional. 

At the end of the weekend you really have nothing to worry about, you know that. 

But Tzuyu? She irritating. 

“I just don’t understand,” Tzuyu suspects nothing of your budding relationship with Jungkook. You’re thankful for that because towards the end of the week, it was getting harder and harder to be subtle when you two send each other heart eyes from three meters away. 

Tzuyu sounds like she’s talking to herself, the way she stares into the infinity pool, despite the fact that her friends are surrounding her with rapt attention. You’re a cabana away from her, sipping languidly at your drink while Jessica and Krystal nap next to you. Even though you can’t see Tzuyu, you can practically feel her pout emanating through the fabric that separates you two. Despite the fact that she’s been offered a great intern position given her degree and experience, she’s still upset. For her, is that not the most important part of this whole week? 

“Jungkook’s really not that great if he’s going to turn me down like that,” Tzuyu seethes. You should write up her nonsense in a book and publish it, really. “Why waste time when he has the whole package right in front of him?” 

It’s then you realize why you’ve been so torn, so strung up and wound tight all these years. Just like college, all shy and hesitant to take a step forward while Jungkook was ten steps ahead, you were worried. You let other people’s thoughts stop you from making the leap, girls like Tzuyu that never meant to intimidate you, but you let their presence get up in your head and control the nonexistent hierarchy. 

But two years later, and that doesn’t matter. It never mattered. Jungkook is no longer the all-star lacrosse player, but what remains is his heart, full and willing. 

Everything Tzuyu just said was… wrong. Irrevocably, inexplicably messed up. But the idea of “wasting time” does strike a chord within you. Are you wasting time? At this point, your feelings of each other are pretty clear. What are you two waiting for, again? 

You thought Krystal was sleeping, considering her sunhat sitting atop her face, but once she hears you packing away your bag she whistles, “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

Sending a quick text to Jungkook, you make a beeline for your destination. You don’t even bother looking for him in the crowd. 

You: meet me by the elevator at the very end of the lobby. 

Not a minute passes by when Jungkook joins you at said elevator. He has two glasses of champagne in his hands, and offers one to you, “tired of the party?” he asks.  

You clink drinks, easily tipping yours back. “It’s not our thing,” you declare with a small smile. Jungkook's eyes soften, glancing back and forth between your face and the soft pleats of your marigold sundress. His hair is pushed back, sticky from sweat and chlorine, dark bangs hanging over the shaved sides of his head. You turn your head slightly as you wait for the elevator, biting your lip as you're sorely reminded of how sexy Jungkook looked at the dive pool half an hour ago. 

The elevator dings, and it’s wide enough for you to slip in at the same time. You put your champagne glass in the corner of the elevator for now, hoping you don’t accidentally step on it. In closed quarters, you can smell the slight tang of chlorine coming from Jungkook, combined with his own brand of musk. 

Jungkook looks younger tonight, happier. Having just finished graduate school and working towards a full-time gig, another chapter in his life has started. His hair is no longer in that tight-whipped coiff he struggled all week to maintain, loosened in its natural wave due to the pool water and heat. His cheeks are a little ruddied and plump, a sign he’s been enjoying the food this week. 

The door barely closes when you get it out, pulling at his hand to face you.

“Jungkook, I like you,” you blurt, and his eyes bug out considerably. Out of reflex, his hand sharply squeezes yours. “You don’t have to say anything, because you’ve been saying everything for the majority of our relationship. I really like you, I really liked you back then too. You’re still so sweet, and loving, and smart and I’ve just been too dumb and insecure to—” 

Jungkook seals your confession away with a desperate kiss, and you turn into a pile of mush at the contact. Relief seeps into your bones, sings into your system. When he pulls away, he looks serious. He doesn’t let you get far, and clutches your face between his two hands so you can’t turn your head. Your soft cheeks fill between his fingers, warm and cradled. 

“Never call yourself that,” Jungkook exhales, regarding you with firm eyes, “you’re beautiful, and intelligent, and the person I want.” 

“I don’t wanna take it slow anymore,” you mumble against his lips, leaning in so that you can barely nip at the pink skin. “Want you now, need you now.” 

“You have me now,” Jungkook agrees, and as soon as the elevator dings open to your floor, he scoops you up into his arms. 

By all means it’s not graceful, he’s clutching you like a baby with his hands over your butt as he jiggles you all the way to your front door. Clinging onto him like a koala, you press kisses to his cheeks as he leads you to your room. You laugh and giggle like teenagers, as he fumbles between your breast to grab the card key that’s nestled between your bra. It’s warm in his hand as he swipes it through the reader, pushing you inside. 

“Is it bad that I’m kinda turned on by the fact you got my key out of my boob?” you joke, although the contact of his rough fingers against your breast is a feeling well missed. 

“Is it bad that I’m always turned on when you lecture in seminars?” Jungkook retorts, kicking the door closed with his slipper-clad foot as he walks you to the bed. “Fuck, I can hear you talk about insurance benefits all day.” 

“Didn’t know my sex appeal extended that way—oh fuck—” 

Your vibrant marigold sundresses provides easy access to Jungkook as he throws you onto the mattress, your skirt billowing over your waist as he makes quick work to expose more of your skin. 

“No more talking, more loving,” he’s crazed, doesn’t hesitate to move your bikini bottoms to the side as he rubs lovingly at your long-lost bud, “need to fuck you, now. It’s been so fucking long.” 

“Kook,” his breath is warm against your already sopping cunt, and you lift your hand to run through the strands of his messy hair. It only takes one firm tug and you’re able to pull him up by the root of his hair, cranberry juice tinted lips with a faint sheen because he couldn’t help himself to have a little taste of you. “Baby, let me touch you. Let me show you how much I want you," you coo with a pout, hands trailing over the drawstrings of his trunks.

You can see how much Jungkook wants to say yes. His eyes glow with the possibility, bright and wanting in the afternoon sunlight. The image of him shoving his cock deep into your throat, so far that you can taste it in every crevice of your mouth. Your nails gripping into his ass as you go deeper, tears pricking your eyes as cum seeps out of your pretty lips. 

But he firmly shakes his head, fingers doing the devil’s work as he eases a digit in you. A little noise of protest bubbles in your throat, but it soon dies out as soon as he finds the right spot to reduce you to mush. 

“Next time,” he exhales against the juncture between your thigh and pelvis, picking up the pace and adding another finger, “if you touch me, I’ll cum right then n’there. This is enough for me, you’re enough.” 

So you let him have what he wants. You’ll make it up to him in the morning, and the day after, and the day after. You shed your clothes, the sundress extra forgiving as it slides off your body, revealing a swimsuit that hasn’t even touched the pool. You feel a little self-conscious as he drinks you in after so long, but he quickly shucks off his clothes to match your state of nakedness. 

You remember how you tiptoed around your first night with Jungkook, taking great care to make sure it was fleeting, how dark the room was as you let your pleasure take over your senses. Two years later and the sun is setting, gold bleeding through your sheets and illuminating the room. There's no need to hide.

“I must say, we’ve both kept it tight,” Jungkook teases with a wink, squeezing your hips so he can change positions. 

You silently agree, your fingers slipping across the washboard of his waist. 

“Mm, and still so fuckin’ cute,” Jungkook marvels as he pulls you up on his lap. Your whole body is flushed with want, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other plays with the curls of hair that lead to your sopping wetness. You glide your core over Jungkook’s stomach, sighing as you take note of the abs that clench under your heat and his hot member that rubs between your ass. 

It’s a tight fit when you finally sink down on him, but the burn only fuels your desire as he stretches you wide. His grip is helpful as he guides you through the motions. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this physical with someone, and it’s almost comical when you both sigh in contentment at the contact. 

“I’ve missed this,” you mumble, biting into his shoulder as he thrusts up. 

“Mm, it feels different, right?” Jungkook hums, keeping a slow pace. The drag is wonderful, and you know that he’s trying to prolong the moment. He reaches for your head, presses his forehead to yours as he speaks, “you’re mine now, right? For real.” 

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” you press kisses everywhere. No need to hide anymore. You bleed love into every kiss, to his jawline, the little freckles across his chin, his lips. “This is romantic and all, but I really want you to dick me down. Which is why you need to go a little faster, you sap.” 

Jungkook scoffs, “A pillow princess is what you are.” 

He stops moving, and you two sink further into the mattress without its springs bringing you back up. The both of you are acutely aware of how wet you both are, your combined arousals seeping between your seams and dripping onto Jungkook’s thighs. But the young man simply relaxes against the headboard, baiting you. 

“Kook,” you whine, clenching against his member. Your hot walls have a mind of their own, unable to stifle their desire. Sweat lines Jungkook’s brow as he tries his hardest not to move, just simply be. 

“Tell me how much you want me, princess,” the pet name has you clenching harder, and you pout. 

“Baby,” you whine, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. There’s no one in the room, and you’re sure no one is on this floor because everyone’s on the rooftop, but the words you’re about to say are for Jungkook and Jungkook only, “please, I want you to pound me into this mattress until I can’t walk anymore. I want to cry out your name so everyone can hear I’m yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you nip at his lobe, and let your thumb nick at the simple silver rings that adorn his ear. You hear a click of his teeth, indicating the clench of his jaw as his muscles flex around your body, "I want you to fill me with your cum until I’m eating it, and—and—oh Kook!” 

Your words aren’t enough to distract you from his large dick sitting prettily between your folds, and you’re suddenly cumming, all by the mere thought of what’s to happen. You’re shuddering in his arms, and Jungkook soothes you by running his fingers over the spine of your back, distracting you from the utter mess you’re making on the sheets. 

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook coddles you, stroking your hair, “can my good girl take it?” 

“Y-yes, Kook,” you nod eagerly, fighting the overstimulation as he nudges you off his lap. You’re pliable, as Jungkook sets up the pillows for you to rest comfortably as you get on your elbows and knees, “your good girl.” 

You shudder as your bare pussy starts to feel cold, immediately missing the warmth Jungkook can provide. You can practically feel his hot gaze burning in your back, his large palm squeezing your ass as he marvels at how ready and eager you are for him. 

“It’s so easy to slip inside,” Jungkook rubs your nectar across the head of his cock, swirling around your engorged skin as he slips right inside. You both moan at the stretch, “Finally, my adorable baby, you like this? You like getting pounded like the dirty girl you really are?” 

“Mm, yes!” you squeal, clutching onto the feather down pillows for dear life as Jungkook displays his strength, one hand gripping your hips as the other weaves itself into your hair. It’s a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, and the lewd sounds of each other’s juices and his balls against your ass echoing in the room. 

“Y-yeah,” despite his power, his thrusts are sloppy, and you know he’s almost at the edge, “and I like you, so so much. I want to make you cum everyday, make you happy and—mph—” he gives up on talking, focusing entirely on his destination. 

“Cum, baby,” you urge, melting when his one hand comes to thread with your own, “fill me up with you.” 

He flips you on your back, and you finally see how desperate Jungkook is to cum. His eyes are glassy, filled with emotion as he strokes himself to completion. Your hand reaches up to cup his damp face, and that’s when you feel him loosen. Hot, pearly strings cling to your pussy, decorating your skin in his essence. Your fingers immediately reach down to swirl the cum between your folds, and Jungkook groans at the picture, immediately throwing your hands to the side to kiss you senseless. 

There’s so much pouring between the two of you, affection, the feeling of being cherished, so much that you can feel the whole world reducing to the two of you. 

“All mine,” he whispers to himself, as if he still can’t believe it. And then, he puts up a poker face as he leans into you, resting his head gently on your breasts, “I knew I only needed a week.”

You narrow your eyes, flicking lightly at his forehead. You’re sticky, sweaty, and covered in cum and while you’re exhausted, the built in jacuzzi in your washroom looks very enticing right now. “Jungkook, this happened naturally. I said we would try as friends first and we did. We just so happened to escalate pretty fast.” 

“I don’t think it was that fast,” Jungkook nuzzles his face into your skin, “it’s been two years since college. Being popular did do a number on our relationship, but we caught up." 

“You were popular-ish,” you roll your eyes, teasing him. His face falls, and you can’t help yourself. Your hands reach over to cup his cheeks, and you happily squish the supple, pouty flesh. He’s adorable. “Kim Taehyung though? Park Jimin? Absolute heartthrobs I couldn’t stand to be near them—ah!” 

Jungkook seems to read your mind, lifting you bridal style to drag you over to the bathroom where the marble jacuzzi sits tauntingly. The stone is ice cold as he brings you both inside, immediately turning on the nozzles to fill it with steaming hot water. You find the tiny bottle of lavender suds, spilling the soap in an arc. His legs slip over yours, cradling you so that your back is pressed against Jungkook’s chest. 

“Being popular never mattered,” Jungkook shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “I realized the only person who I really needed to notice me was you.” 

bonus. 

You wake Jungkook up the next morning with your lips wrapped around his cock, fresh cherry balm rubbing down the thick veins until he's cumming down your throat. 

"Wow," Jungkook whistles, licking his lips at the sight of you sucking the arousal from your thumb. He huffs against the pillow, eyes darting to the open organza window, letting in the early morning light. The rooftop of a multi-star hotel, white Egyptian cotton seats, a full time job on the way and waking up in the most blissful way possible. 

"I have a proposal," you crawl on top of him like a koala, hooking your thighs between his blanket clad body. 

"I do," he replies instantly, looking straight at you with droopy puppy eyes.

"Not that kind," you slap his chest, "where are you living once orientation is over?" 

"Mm, there's a boarding house near a local translation. It's probably an hour commute? Not too bad." 

"So, I just leased a townhouse last month," you bite your lip, tucking your head between his neck to hide your embarrassment, "I was gonna rent out the spare room and put an advert in the paper but…"

"I do."

"I said it isn't a marriage proposal."

"Asking you to live with me is basically a marriage proposal."

"There will be no benefits," you sit up, wagging a finger in his face, "you'll be paying rent and half the utilities. And you will be doing all the laundry." 

"Sure," Jungkook replies loftily, squeezing your ass, "you're benefit enough." 

[theleftovertaco]

Wrapped

Got an ask about cockwarming w george, so here we go

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it my guys). light sub!George

George had been neglecting you. 

Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was about to hit its most popular season of all, right before school started up and students wanted to stock up on whatever product they could get their hands on. You loved how he got so passionate and excited about his store.

But for the past week he had been getting up early and going to bed late and you were getting tired of it. 

Sitting on the sofa reading an old book that Ginny had recommended, an idea hit, and you quickly got up to run into your shared bedroom to put on an old sweatshirt of his and pull on a pair of his boxers. 

You strolled into George’s office and leaned against his desk.

“Hey, baby.”

“What’s up, love?” He barely looked up from his papers. You pouted and folded your arms.

“You haven’t been giving me any attention this week.” He paused for a second and then continued writing. 

“Not true, we made breakfast together yesterday, that was attention. And we cuddled last night.” You laughed a little at his defense and slowly trailed your hand towards the zipper of his pants.

“Not the attention I’m referring to.”

George jumped as you placed a hand on his length, and he jerked his head towards you.

“Love, I'm on the clock. Can’t this wait?” 

“You own the store, you control your own hours.”

“I’m still working. I want to, believe me. But Fred and I have to restock and get products ready and there’s a whole list of other things we have to do in the next few days.” George placed his quill down and ran a hand through his hair, shoulders tense with stress. 

“Really?” He nodded in response. 

“Yeah, love, I wish I could.”

“Well if you’re too busy, I can work around that.” You pulled his cock out and stroked as George threw his head back and let out a soft groan. 

“Not sure how this is working around my schedule, but I guess I’m not complaining.”

You stepped out of the boxers you were wearing and straddled George’s waist, slowly letting yourself sink down onto him. 

“Fuck you feel nice!” He lightly bucked up, letting out a whine when you pushed his hips down and settled as comfortably as you could on his lap, letting your chin rest on his shoulder.

“Uh, love?” He turned his head towards you.

“Yes, Georgie?” 

“Aren’t you going to move?” You let out a laugh like he’d just said something funny and moved around a bit to mess with him. 

“Of course not, I would never want to impede on your schedule. I’m fine just sitting here until you’re finished with your work.” You resumed your original position on his shoulder and began to play with the hairs on the back of his neck

“Y/N, how exactly am I supposed to work while you’re doing this?” George motioned downwards and you let a smirk grace your lips. 

“You an work around me, this chair is rather big and you have long arms for a reason.”

George looked at you with exasperation, but soon let out a sigh an begrudgingly returned to his papers, trying to focus on his work. 

He lasted about 12 minutes before the begging started.

“Please, Y/N, I’ll do anything!”

You shrugged and responded.

“You’re the one who wanted to work, George. I’m not even moving.”

George let out a grunt. 

“Yes, that’s the issue, I’m asking you to move!” 

“But I thought you had to work? If I’m being such a nuisance that you want me to leave I underst-Fuck!” your words cut off with a choked sound as George thrusted up and brought you further down simultaneously.

“Please, fucking move, doll.” 

“Looks like you did a rather good job of that yourself, naughty boy.” 

“I’m asking you nicely to move, please move!” He raised his voice slightly his words were slightly choked off. 

“Well, if that’s really what you want...” You trailed off. 

He let out a sound of frustration and placed his hands on your hips, gripping the lightly and kneading the flesh

“Yes, that’s what I want!”

You paused for a second to look in his eyes, then continued. 

“If that’s really what you want.... No.” You stood up like you hadn’t just been sat on his cock and walked out. 

“What? Why not?”

“Because if you really want it, you’ll come and get it!” You shouted out and laughed as you heard a string of curses and hurried steps as George followed you into the bedroom.

George was wrapped around your finger. 

Neither of you would have it any other way. 

[baepsaesbae]

Eclipse

Pairing— Day Fairy!Hoseok x Night fairy!reader    

Genre— SMUT, fae au, angst, idiots to lovers

Warnings— Oral (F receiving), nipple play, explicit unprotected sex, hair pulling, both praise and slight derogatory dirty talk bc I can’t make up my mind, slight swearing

Word Count— 3.3k  

Summary— The summer solstice is here and it’s time to celebrate. Your favorite part of the solstice is that you get to see Hoseok, or rather, the love of your life. It’s too bad you haven’t told him how you really felt, even though it has been centuries. Maybe this year will be different. 

A/N— This fic is part of The Fabled Collab hosted by @joontopia, @kimtaehyunq, and @whipped-for-kpop-fics. Hoseok is my sunshine, so I just had to write about him! Thank you to @s0seo and @taegularities for giving me motivation to write. Lastly, huge shoutout to Eden from @thebiasrekkers​ for making this awesome banner for me! As always, let me know how you guys like the fic! My askbox is always open <3

Fae clans have many holidays and rituals, but solstices are by far the most celebrated. Solstices mark the pivotal event that shifts the seasonal responsibilities between the sun and moon clans. The summer and winter solstice are always the biggest events of the year, with about a week of festivities leading up to the final event. 

Sweat ran down your spine as the sun beat down on you. You’ve been holding up a stupid banner for what felt like an eternity.

“Okay wait, you’re gonna hate me but I think we should put it back to where we originally had it,” Sunghoon said with furrowed brows.

“That’s it. We’ve been doing this all morning. Figure this out yourself,” you angrily threw down the banner and stormed off before Sunghoon had the chance to yell at you.

You ignored the friendly calls from other fae that were setting up decor nearby. It was way past your bedtime. Cranky and drenched in sweat, you were definitely not a happy night fairy. Heading straight to the pond, you derobed and found comfort in the cool waters that  washed away your stress instantly. You gazed up at the blue sky while floating on your back. The day truly was beautiful, you couldn’t deny that. However, nighttime was better in your very much biased opinion. The dark sky littered with countless stars that glittered like diamonds was an unbeatable sight. 

“Hey there sunshine!” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You dipped back into the water and turned to the source of the sound.

“Hey there, perv. Care to join me?” you beckoned.

“I wish I could, but I need to go finalize some plans for the handoff ceremony--”

“It’s the same EVERY year. C’mon Hobi, you don’t need to go,” you whined.

“I’ll meet you back here at sunset, how does that sound?” he tried to appease you.

“Midnight. I’m already exhausted, I don’t wanna wake up early,” you blew raspberries into the pond.

“That’s fair. I’ll see you then okay?” Hoseok waved before flying off.

On top of parties filled with indulgences that would blow the mind of any feeble human, Hoseok was the added bonus that made you eager for each solstice. Admittedly, you two have had some sort of flirtationship going on for the past few centuries. Your friends always teased you about how madly head over heels you were for him. As much as you wanted to believe that he loved you in the same way, something always felt off.  

Hoseok always reciprocated your flirtatious advances, but it felt more like a game between friends rather than something substantial. You’ve even observed his interactions with other fairies, and it didn’t seem like he gave you any special treatment. He was simply a good friendly guy that everyone loved, but not the way that you loved him. 

You were dying to know how he truly felt about you. All these years of playful banter had been fun, but they had also been simultaneously eating away at you. There’s no way he doesn’t know that you love him. At the same time, what if he thinks you’re just a good friend? You needed to know for sure, and you intended to confront him about it at midnight.

“Good evening,” you greeted Hoseok shyly as you approached the pond’s bank. 

“Good day to you sunshine,” Hoseok called back as he kicked at the water.

“How’d the meeting go?” you asked.

“Boring as always. You’re right, it’s the same every year. But the elders still want to go over everything again to ensure that the ceremony is perfect,” Hoseok sighed.

“Thanks for coming to hangout with me even though you’re so busy,” you said, suddenly feeling guilty.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all day! You’re the perfect person to unwind with after a long day,” Hoseok smiled. There it was. The radiant smile you fell for the first time you ever met him. 

“You sure I’m the perfect person for that? What do you do when you’re back in your own land surrounded by other day fae?” you prodded, hoping to steer the conversation onto the ‘what are we’ topic. 

“I have my friends there for sure, and I appreciate them too. But it’s different with you. Maybe because I can only hangout with you twice a year. You’re like my super special friend, yaknow?” Hoseok tried to explain. 

“Uh yeah, for sure. Like a special playdate kind of thing huh?” you tried to hide your hurt feelings.

“Exactly! You get it. It’s like you’re my favorite dessert that I can only have twice a year,” Hoseok nodded.

“Right…” you whispered softly to yourself. You spent the rest of the night listening to the unfruitful discussions Hoseok had during his meetings. All the excitement over the festival had drained from you. Now, you just wanted it to be over so you can go sulk in peace. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Hoseok observed, “You haven’t interjected once about how stupid our traditions are or how you’re looking forward to having long nights again.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m just tired. Sunghoon really worked me to the bone yesterday, that damn day fairy,” you faked a yawn.

“Hey, be nice! Wasn’t it you who volunteered to help us anyway?” Hoseok shook his head.

‘Yeah, because I thought I’d be able to work with you,’ you thought.

“It was a bizarre streak of altruism, that’s all,” you shrugged. 

“Nah, I know you’re a kind fairy deep down!” Hoseok playfully nudged your shoulder. Normally you would welcome this type of physical affection, but for right now it served as a painful reminder that you were merely seen as a buddy. 

You actively avoided Hoseok for the remainder of the week, counting down the hours to when it would finally all be over. You made up some lame excuse to not hangout with Hoseok every time he approached you. He must have caught on by the final day, either that or he was extremely busy. Afterall, he was the MC for the entire ordeal. 

Apparently, your abrasive reputation preceded you because no one wanted your help with anything. As soon as they saw you coming, they would randomly find themselves very preoccupied with something that made them too busy to talk to you. The only person who would put you to work was Sunghoon, who was one of Hoseok’s best friends. You wondered why he was always so nice to you even when you complained the entire time you helped him.

“That’s the last table! They all look great, thanks for helping with the set up,” Sunghoon gave you a thumbs up.

“You know it’s pointless setting up all these tables. Most of the fairies are just gonna be dancing or fucking all night long, no one is gonna be sitting down,” you said.

“Are you gonna be one of the fairies partying?” Sunghoon inquired.

“Definitely not,” you answered curtly.

“Then I’m happy at least one of these tables will be utilized,” Sunghoon nodded, “Try to enjoy yourself tonight okay?”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

The entire forest seemed to come alive that night. The trees swayed with the enchanting music while cheers of merriment erupted around the party scene. You sat alone at a mushroom table with your third (or was it fourth?) cup of berry wine. You glared at the fairies who had lost themselves to their pleasures, whether it be the wine or the toadstools, or perhaps even both. Fairies who had given into their more lustful urges could be seen on the outskirts of the dance floor, some in the innocent stages of kissing and others entangled full fledged fornication. Scoffing at the obscene orgy, you stumbled off to get another cup of wine. Even though you weren’t really participating, you had to admit that fairies knew how to throw a party. 

“Hey ___, I noticed you’ve been by yourself the whole evening. Want some company?” someone asked behind you as you filled up your mug to the brim. You turned to see two Sunghoons merge to become one hazy Sunghoon in the blink of an eye. 

“F-ffuck off Sunghoon,” you slurred.

“I wanted to thank you for all the hard work you did for this year’s summer solstice,” Sunghoon continued, unfazed by your harshness, “Wanna dance to celebrate?”

“Nope,” you answered as you pushed him aside.

“Yeah she seemed pretty pissed dude,” Sunghoon said while taking a large swig.

“At you or in general?” Hoseok inquired.

“Dunno man, she’s always been like that. However, she seemed more aggravated than usual, which is hard to imagine,” Sunghoon chuckled, “Did you do something to her?”

“No! I’ve been replaying everything we talked about at the pond but everything seemed fine! I even told her that she was my super special friend and---oh shit,” Hoseok’s face fell.

“Idiot,” Sunghoon tsked. 

Both fae clans had gathered by the main stage, intently listening to the same speeches that the clan leaders have spoken for centuries. You watched apathetically as the everlasting flame was being formally handed over. The crowd roared as the flame changed from a deep crimson red to an icy silver color with a blue hue, signifying that the solstice had come to pass. 

If the festival wasn’t wild before, it had only gotten more out of hand after the official ceremony. Seeing the other fairies go wild in every sense of the word made you nauseous. The noise level intensified as you watched your fairy brethren engage in rather promiscuous activities. Someone even beckoned for you to join in the fun, but you just walked away. The only person you wanted to have that kind of fun with was Hoseok. It infuriated you that your thoughts always drifted to him. You filled up your cup one last time and walked away from the ruckus, towards an empty grove. Hopefully you would be able to wallow in self pity in peace there. 

The stars twinkled above you, and dim moonlight speckled the ground around you as it shone through the trees. You could still hear the party, but it was much fainter now and served as nice background noise to keep you from drowning in your thoughts. With a deep exhale, you fought to hold back tears. You felt so foolish. Too many years have been wasted in vain for an unrequited love that you should have seen coming. It was so stupid of you to hold onto a sliver of hope that Hoseok would like you back. 

“The party is that way,” a familiar voice called out to you.

“Then why aren’t you there?” you didn’t try to mask the annoyance in your voice.

“I saw you walk away, I wanted to check up on you.”

“Why the fuck would you even care?” you sat up and hissed.

“Why are you being so hostile? You’re the one who has been avoiding me all week!” Hoseok raised his voice.

“I’m sure you didn’t have much time to spend with me anyway,” you huffed.

“That’s not true. I spent every moment of my free time looking for you, only for you to turn me away. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Hoseok calmed down.

“Fine. I’m in love with you, okay? How fucking embarrassing. It hurt when you said that I was your super best friend or whatever. Seeing you afterward just reminded me of how dumb I am,” you couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Oh sunshine, I’m the idiot. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re my special friend because I like you too. I wanted to spend every second with you this week. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, I’m so sorry ____,” Hoseok got down on his knees and pulled you in for a hug. You were stunned.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner then!” you pushed him off.

“I thought it was obvious from the way we flirted!” he argued. 

“You’re nice to everyone, it was hard for me to tell,” you pouted.

“My apologies for not being a sourpuss like you,” Hoseok laughed.

“So...what now? It wasn’t really a romantic confession but I guess our feelings are out in the open now,” you whispered as you leaned against him.

Suddenly, Hoseok pushed you back to the ground, straddling your hips. His dark hair nearly covered his eyes as he looked down at you. He was beyond beautiful, his white iridescent wings glittered ethereally in the moonlight. 

“Remember when I said you’re like a dessert I can only have twice a year? I’d like to make that a reality,” Hobi smirked. He bent over to kiss you. It was soft at first, his plush lips pressing up against yours. He gently cupped your face with one hand while the other wandered to your chest, undoing your blouse. Lust overtook the both of you as the kiss deepened and Hoseok fondled your breasts. You let out a small gasp as he played with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.  

“Spread those legs for me, sunshine,” he demanded.

You complied, slowly exposing yourself to him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him while in such a compromising position. Hoseok gingerly kissed a trail along your inner thighs towards your core. His hot breath against your pussy made you squirm under him in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he chuckled, “Let’s play a game. You have to make eye contact with me while I eat you out. Every time you look away, I stop.”

“You’re evil,” you huffed before reluctantly looking at the beautiful being perched between your legs. 

“That’s my girl,” he purred approvingly before spreading your folds with his fingers. His eyes darkened with lust as you watched him lick tantalizingly slow stripes. He could feel your need for more, so he moved up to focus on your clit, giving it special attention as his tongue swirled around it. 

You tangled your fingers into his hair, gripping him tighter as he licked your clit faster. All your composure was lost as you looked down at him with pleading eyes.

“What is it? Need more?” Hoseok teased as his fingers traced your entrance.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?” Hoseok feigned ignorance

“Please touch me,” you said softly.

“We need to work on your begging, but you’re so adorable I can’t say no,” Hobi dove back into stimulating your clit as he slipped a finger inside of you. He smirked at how easily he went in, and immediately added a second finger. The new feeling had you throwing your head back as he grazed your g-spot. Right as things began to feel good, he retracted everything.

“Hobi!” you cried out in frustration.

“You looked away. Remember the rules to our little game?” Hoseok chided. You glared down at him as he immediately picked up where he left off, not giving you time to readjust. Fighting back the urge to close your eyes, soft moans escaped from your lips.

“Ready to cum, my dear ___?” he asked sweetly as his fingers dipped to directly attack your g-spot.

There was no time to give a proper response. Your back arched and your toes curled up as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Drenched in your juices, Hoseok glistened under the moonlight.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Hoseok praised, “But I’m not finished with you yet,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

He unbuckled his trousers, releasing the monster that dangled between his legs. You willingly spread your legs for him, eager for more.

“So needy, you haven’t had enough yet?” Hoseok tsked as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds.

Finally, Hoseok began to bury himself into you. He took his time, relishing how your warm walls squeezed him. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, focusing on feeling every inch of him. Once he bottomed out, you wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to bring him impossibly closer. The dark lust that swam in his eyes broke for a second, replaced by the warm smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. He bent down to kiss you, and you happily reciprocated. 

Hoseok moved his hips slowly as he fucked you at a deep yet gentle pace. Mouths still colliding, you shyly licked at his lips. Taking your hint, Hoseok’s tongue met yours. As the kisses deepened with more saliva being interchanged, Hoseok’s thrusts became harsher.    

“You’re so fucking sexy. Lemme see that ass baby,” Hoseok growled as he flipped you over.

He smacked your ass twice and watched it jiggle in awe before placing a firm grip on your hips. Almost animalistically, he bucked into you. Your body jolted forward with each thrust. You had never been fucked this hard before, and it was heavenly. Hoseok’s control over his body movement was insane. Your moans grew louder as his hips continuously rolled into you. 

One of Hoseok’s hands formed a tight grip on your hair, roughly bringing your head up off the ground. You couldn’t stop your wanton moans from filling the open air. 

“H-Hoseok,” you cried out.

“What is it? Is it too much for you?” Hoseok cooed in your ear as he brought your head back even closer to him.

“Mmm-no,” was all you could make out.

“I knew you could take it all, such a good slut,” Hoseok praised as he let go of your hair.

Unable to hold yourself up, you immediately fell back onto your chest. Your fingernails dug into the dirt as you could feel another orgasm swelling up inside of you. 

“I’m gonna cum again,” you wailed out.

“I’m almost there, wait for me baby,” Hoseok instructed.

With perfect timing, Hoseok let out a guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside of you. Sounds of pleasure bounced around the grove as you came in unison. Hoseok’s cum dripped down the sides of your inner thighs when he pulled out. 

“How did I do, sunshine?” Hoseok asked jovially as you laid on the ground before him.

“You knocked me out. I don’t think I can move for a while,” you weakly answered with a smile.

“Not a problem, we can just stay here for a while, sunshine,” Hoseok laid down beside you, beckoning for you to rest atop his chest. 

“I like when you call me that,” you yawned.

“Sunshine?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, that. It makes me feel special,” you nodded.

“Is that so? I’m glad it makes you feel special, because you are. You’ve always been the spunky night fairy that everyone knows but is too afraid to approach,” Hoseok laughed.

“What! I am totally friendly! Just not to those who piss me off,” you defended, “Which...I guess is a lot of people so I suppose I see your point. What made you want to be my friend if everyone thought I’m scary?”

“You treated me like everyone else. It always felt like people put on a fake facade around me since I’m the chief’s son. They’re nice to me to try and curry favor with my father, or maybe flirt with me to try and gain some special sort of status. I don’t know. I’m just me,” Hoseok shrugged. 

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re my sunshine,” you hugged him.

“That makes me feel great. I’ll do my best to see you more than twice a year, okay?” he kissed your forehead.

“I guess I can clear my schedule and come over to visit you too,” you giggled, “Or maybe we can run away and make a clan of our own.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, “Don’t tempt me. I’d love to go somewhere where no one knows my name or expects anything from me.”

“How about we go to where the day meets the night?” you offered.

“Like what? An eclipse?” Hoseok said as he gazed into the night sky.

“Precisely. We can make an eclipse clan. We only have to do festivals for eclipses, and those are kinda rare,” you giggled.

“Sounds like a good dream, sunshine. Let’s seriously discuss it in the morning when we’re both more sober,” Hoseok kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight, my sunshine,” you whispered into his chest.

Published July 23, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.