#but if it finished any later than 2017 i will be floored

[dullahandyke]

I need to cut shitfic out of my life and start building my life entirely around this one college au fic which is really fucking good but also the author is a little too invested in letting you know that they went to college in LA

[ruiniel]

In Aeternum

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Relationship: Alucard x Reader

Count: 2.2k

Rating: M

Tags: Pining, Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Dark Romanticism/style, Castlevania References, Reincarnation, Post-Castlevania 2017-2021, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, F!Reader, Herbalist Reader, Magic, References to Speakers, Creatures, Shapeshifting, Second Person POV

AN: Bringing back a story written on the old blog for an ask (I believe it was from @mightyarsh? Let me know if not!). Oneshot for now, TBC if there's interest for more.

Edit: here's Part II

Summary:

Alucard centered story, where his s/o in ~1476 is a herbalist who eventually dies of old age. Fast forward to the 1790s, Alucard stumbles into you: a herbalist and magician, with the same appearance of the one he knew long ago.

“There you are,” you whisper gleefully to yourself, bending down. Your gloved hand reaches to pick the buoyant cluster of white and yellow feverfew at your feet.

The forest sings with life, and sun rays brush bright, dappled fingers over the forest ground. Your satchel is almost full, and you’re pleased to see you’ve crossed most needed supplies off your list for the day. Dusk will soon be upon you, and while you’re more than capable of protecting yourself against any manner of disturbances, the wisest approach would be to head back sooner than later. Carefully, you wrap your quarry in a rough strip of paper and tuck it inside your bag with other scented packages. You rub at your nose with fingers smelling of yarrow, valerian and meadowsweet, considering being done for the day. Looking at your compass, you aim to follow North, towards the town where you run your trade and livelihood.

You take a few steps, thoughts on the newest concoction recipes you’ve been provided by a member of your guild.

At first, you don’t mind the eerie shift in the air. A smell, a reek rises and engulfs you, and though you sense no movement, the tendrils of impending threat weave around your ankles. You stop short.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; your heartbeat quickens. You know this instinctual warning, you’ve felt it before.

You’re being watched.

Eyes narrowing, you wait, then take a step forward. A stir deep in the tall, dark undergrowth has you lifting your left hand, your stance gone rigid, fingertips sizzling with a rush of hot, elemental energy.

You falter as the creature reveals itself, emerging from of the shadows descended over the wood like moving shrouds; you can’t deny the beast’s unreal beauty as your gaze skims over the white, shining hide, to the golden eyes catching the last drops of sunlight spearing through the trees, watching you with an interest bordering on human.

No, you realize, swallowing hard; its eyes are human, but for all your knowledge in the arcane arts, you can’t for the life of you place its kind. You’re all too familiar with the unmistakable scent of foreign magic, and now it crackles around the dire wolf like rising thunder.

A thought, a forgotten piece of knowledge crosses your mind. Shapeshifter.

If it weren’t for your less than favorable situation, you’d be hopelessly entranced by the rare apparition.

The creature remains still, observing you with curiosity while you place your right foot behind you and drop your satchel. Your fingers form the conjuration symbol of fire.

“I don’t know what you are or why you’re here, but I warn you, one wrong move and I will not hesitate to burn you to a crisp!”

Your voice shakes beneath your bravado, but you don’t get to finish your shaking threat. Before you can muster even a wisp of a firebolt the wolf bounds in a great leap, and in primeval fright you trip over your own legs, falling to the floor amid wilted leaves and dirt. Your unremarkable life flashes before your eyes and only late you notice you’re still breathing, still in your body; still breathing, not dead.

You swivel around, rising to your knees.

Your eyes widen; you balk at the ghastly sight and scramble backwards on your arms and legs, watching the wolf ripping out the throat of another apparition reminiscent of rotting corpses. Guts splatter the trunks of trees, skin tears and bones splinter. The pestilence of ancient necromancy fills your nostrils; your head is spinning, and through your daze and the vicious, threat-induced pounding in your head, you barely see two booted feet instead of a four-legged stance. Closer they come, as your panting breath hitches in your throat.

You lift your gaze, heart struggling between your ribs. Ahead, a widening pool of murky green blood drools beneath the carcass of his kill.

“You should... watch yourself better out here,” come the soft words, and as your shocked eyes move over him, you see broad shoulders, a well-knit frame garbed in black, and looking into his face, you’re struck by a deep, wrenching familiarity.

His unblemished features possess that same stillness, but also honesty and reluctant kindness; and something else. Indefinable, like grasping at a half-forgotten dream at the strike of dawn.

You can’t speak, and mutely stare as he kneels before you. The first impulse is to back away, but through the remnants of your panic you squint at him, and recognition flares. “You!”

You’ve seen him before. You remember now. You… you know him. He’s been a recent, frequent customer in your apothecary shop, coming by regularly to purchase herbs and powders used for an array of purposes. He never skimped on payment, even for the most expensive of wares.

Those otherworldly traits you remember: in truth, how could you forget. His presence is always the hallmark of the familiar, though in what way, you cannot say.

“You…” you repeat dumbly, staring at his proffered gloved hand.

You hesitate before reaching, allowing long fingers to wrap around yours as he helps you to your feet. The grip sends a rush up your spine and warmth down your body, and you marvel at how fast you turned from paralyzing fright to cursed reactions of a completely different kind.

“I never knew you were a shapeshifter, Mr. Țepeș,” you croak, deeply embarrassed by the uncanny rebellion within. You release his hand, perhaps slower than would be deemed appropriate.

“And you never mentioned you were a magician.” He smiles as you dust off the leaves and dirt from your clothes. “But then, these are not things commonly shared among acquaintances in this day and age, are they?”

Despite the near brush with a gruesome death and his unexpected, though fortuitous, presence, you still find a shred of mirth within you. A wry smile curls your lips. “No, I suppose it is not. Though we’ve come a long way from deeming magic devil’s work, and burning witches at the stake.”

His brows furrow at that, and something twitches in his jaw. You wonder if your words had somehow upset him, though in what way, you haven’t the slightest idea.

What was he doing here?

Whatever shadow crossed his expression is gone, however, and he shakes his head. “Indeed, we have. Still, I think you agree caution is key. And please, just ‘Adrian’,” he follows, as gallant as you remember him, as if there’s not a dead abomination he’d disemboweled lying only a short distance away.

“Very well, Adrian,” you find your voice. The word is easy on your tongue, like a fresh, blooming flower. Here you are, alone and at his mercy, for you have no inkling of his true power, but your fear sluices away with his closeness. You wish you knew the reason why. “I won’t tell anyone, if you won’t,” you add, astonished at the sudden shift in mood.

“You’re a long way from home,” he ignores your light remark, watching you strangely, a near wistful gleam in burnished eyes.

“Yes, well, I was out gathering supplies, and I’ve encountered no trouble thus far, but,” you pause, an eyebrow raised as suspicion rears its head. “...you were following me?”

He looks away. “I was hunting it,” he gestures behind him. “Stray creatures of the nether still lurk in the whereabouts of my home, and I’ve encountered too many bodies around abandoned pathways and ditches to allow the prowling to continue.”

You’ve heard of this. You know of at least two families who had recently lost someone; people disappearing without a trace, none ever returned.

Misery for their plight fills you, but now your curiosity has peaked at his words, and there brims a need to know more. “You mention your home… you live close by, then?” Throughout your sparse dealings, he always kept things professional, and despite having met countless times before, you obviously know close to nothing about him.

Adrian hesitates beneath your searching stare, biting his lip. “For now.”

You’re left to wonder at the meaning of his words, your gaze straying behind him. “Oh, how horrid of me! You saved my life. Thank you,” you bow your head, your gratitude genuine.

Adrian looks up to the skies. He smiles. “Darkness falls,” he says. “My deed will prove useless if you end at the hands of brigands or whatever other things haunt this part of the wood.” Unsettling amber eyes are on you again, and something warm and sweet settles in your belly. Now, of all times.

“I…” you choke, “I better get moving then,” you avert your gaze, bending down to retrieve your abandoned satchel.

“I could escort you to the edge of the forest, if you wish.”

The words take you by surprise. Your eyes cut to his again, and in the half-light, their gold is deeper, brighter. Wolf-like, but without the trace of a threat.

“... two wards are better than one, that sort of thing,” he smiles thinly, almost shyly, his gaze intent on your face.

“... that would…” do you want him to? After all, he is little more than a stranger to you, but then again, you are not exactly powerless either, were he to try anything. The thought shames you for some unknown reason, and deep inside, there comes the truth: shapeshifting powers aside, you want him close, you want to know him beyond the placid stares and the memory of those fleeting, close-lipped smiles; beyond the all too brief encounters. Something rooted deep pushes past all sensible misgivings.

You shoulder your satchel, meeting his stare. You sense no danger coming from him, none. Instead, a pang of sadness coils around you, leaving you breathless in your confused stupor.

Your heart beats so fast it might break your sternum, but in his shuttered expression you find nothing. A cool wind shivers through the branches, lifting his pale hair, sending strands astray as he silently awaits your decision.

You nod slowly with a sigh. “... that would be very kind of you.”

You walk in comfortable silence, exchanging questions of mundane import here and there, then falling to silence again. If there’s still a waver to your step, or a hitch to your breath since you nearly lost your life today, your travel companion makes no mention of it.

You tread through dust and leaf until you reach the forest’s edge, and before you lies a vale, and a town tucked within it. You glance over to see your new acquaintance walking in a smooth, determined glide, looking left and right.

When your eyes meet, the question forms immediately, more so since you’ll use any excuse to explain the staring. What has actually happened to you? More annoyed at yourself than expected, you ask, “I haven’t seen you around here often. Before, that is,” you nibble on your lip as his gaze flicks away from you in the fallen twilight.

“I could say the same about you,” he muses, “I’ve always lived close by, actually. But I’ve been… absent these past few years, let’s say.”

Odd. And yet. “Oh, I see. I had settled here after leaving my caravan and parents to find my luck in the world. They knew I needed to channel the talents they’d noticed growing and affecting my life more and more with each passing day. For all the dangers I’ve met, great or small, I’d found some use for my skill in herbalism, found odd jobs until I scraped enough which, along with the help my parents offered when I left, allowed me to rent a place of my own.” You look swiftly his way. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry,” but the look in his eyes cuts through your cresting apology.

“No,” Adrian shakes his head, “It is no bother,” he says, an odd quality to his voice. “No bother at all.” 

It’s a long walk to your cottage at the edge of town, through the same muddy, unpaved road you’ve trod day after day, month after month, year after year. You’ve been alone for so long it’s become a way of life, and you mull over that thought, making your way to the worn, crumbled building of your little shop.

Pausing before the door, you turn around to face your unlooked-for savior. “Well, then.” You smile, catching the peculiar stares of one or two neighbors. Irritation flares—of course, none would even think of minding their own business.

“Well, then.” 

The niggling prickle of something in your mind remains, but you know better than to linger with a stranger in the evening outside your home. The town is not so large as to be impervious to wagging tongues, and that is nothing you want to be a part of.

“Thank you, again,” you offer, not knowing what else to say, for he is so still again, staring through you as though seeking something. 

“Until next time,” is all he says.

“... Under better circumstances. I hope,” you try a jest, turning to unlock the wooden door to your cottage.

“So do I.”

The wind has become stronger. You turn around, wanting to add something that disperses from your mind as you find yourself alone, the night and a rising moon your only witnesses.

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

[theramseyloft]

Cognitive and social information to make selecting, bonding with, and training your pigeon easier:

There are lots of things I can go into more detail on, but here are the hows and whys of pigeon cognition and sociology that form the basis of our research into communication and Therapy work, laid out as a guide to building your relationship with your bird, starting with generalities universal to the species, and ending with an in depth look at the mechanics behind the typical behaviors and temperaments of cocks vs hens and what to expect.

Though they are extremely social outside nest space, Pigeons, whether cock or hen, are life-or-death viciously territorial of their specific nest space.

For reference: 

A free flying bird with no cage considers nest space to consist of the actual nest and about their own body length around it. 

Because they are crevice nesters, a pigeon with an enclosure considers the entire enclosure to be nest space.

Only a pigeon's mate is allowed to enter their nest, and that's exclusively by invitation.

Peeps are hatched into it, and once they wean, they are not allowed to re-enter.

Anything entering their nest space that is not that bird's mate is instinctively considered to be either a predator, or a rival.

 A rival won't eat them, but is coming explicitly to attack them to drive them out of a good nest, which will involve killing their nestlings if they have any.

So, to avoid triggering the predator/rival defensive response, it's important to open your bird's enclosure to invite them to come out on their own terms when you want to spend social time with them. 

This rewards their natural curiosity and  makes you feel more like a cohabitant/potential flock mate than a potential predator or attacker.

While your bird is out exploring, you can strengthen your bond with them by treat priming; Address them by name, ask "Want a treat?" and toss a safflower seed in front of them, but not straight at them. Praise them when they eat it with something along the lines of "Yes, that is for you! Good bird!" in a pleased tone of voice. (even birds who hate handling and refuse treats respond positively to a pleased tone of voice.)

Calling their name every time primes them to look at you when you address them.

Little by little, as they get comfortable with the distance, you should be able to toss treats less and less far from yourself.

The end goal is for your bird to come into willing physical contact with you.

From there, you can start offering a treat on the tip of one or two fingers.

Once the bird is reliably accepting that, offer the treat held by the narrow end between your thumb and index finger. 

This makes your hand more similarly shaped to the head of a bird than the scary giant talon with extra toes or giant snake it usually looks like to a bird.

In every flock of pigeons, there are at least one or two teen or older birds that will feed any weaned baby that cries. 

I call these "Flock Aunties/Unkles", and this is the mantle you take up for your bird once they get they hang of hand feeding.

It's best to start having out times in the evenings, so that bed time is after dark. Lights Out training makes returning them to the enclosure less stressful for both you and your bird.

When you want to put the bird away, address them to get their attention, and say "Lights Out or Bed Time soon!", wait about 10 seconds, Then walk over to the light switch, make a note of where your bird is, repeat "Lights Out/Bed Time now", and flick off the lights.

Pigeons are diurnal and non-migratory. They can't see in the dark, and just sort of turn off. 

This differs from the learned helplessness shut down in being instinctively  associated with sleep, rather than inescapable distress.

In the dark, you can pick up your bird and gently return them to the enclosure without the stress of having to chase and catch them.

After a few repetitions, birds that don't enjoy being carried to bed will use the ten or so seconds between "soon" and "now" to fly back to their enclosure on their own. Birds that do like being carried will assume the position and wait for you to turn off the light and carry them.

There is no getting around the fact that feeding, watering, and cleaning require you to reach into your pigeon's enclosure, and if you can't do that while they are out (for example, if you feed in the morning before leaving for work) you can help them overcome their defensive response by talking them through what you are doing without reaching for the bird themself.

"It's food time. I need your dish." while reaching in only as far as needed to remove the dish, and withdrawing with it as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. Same for the water dish, and talking them through cleaning.

For example, the floor of my hospital cages slide out, so I tell the birds "I need your floor." and then repeat "Back up, back up, back up" in a soft, encouraging tone until they are off, then praising with "Thank you!" to signify they have done what I asked and I will not bother them now until time to put the floor back in.

When the floor is cleaned and repapered, I tell them "Here's your floor back." and repeat "Step up." as I slide it in until they have both feet on the floor. 

When I have finished cleaning, watering, and feeding (All three get done at once for the hospital cages) I signify to the bird that it's over by "Ok! We're done now!" and then praising "Good bird! Thank you."

It's important to talk them through EVERYTHING because they are literally five-year-old-child intelligent.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/02/090212141143.htm

Pigeons and baboons have similarly high cognition.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/12/171204144805.htm

Pigeons have an innate understanding of the concepts of space and time.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/04/140402095107.htm

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2007/02/070220131646.htm

They categorize like we do.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/07/130717095336.htm

Their brains are wired similarly to ours.

https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/s13295-014-0057-5/html

So much so that they are considered an excellent model in the study of cognitive neuroscience

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0197458019304270

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0166432814007554

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0166432820306471

With TONS of alzheimer-specific research

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/04/110411171847.htm

Their facial recognition is similar to ours.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/07/110703132527.htm

They recognize humans as individuals.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2012/06/120622163056.htm

By both face, and voice.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/06/080613145535.htm

They surpass the ability of human children up to three years old to recognize that their reflection in a mirror is their own reflection, and not another bird.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/02/150204184447.htm

They can learn the equivalent of words by the same mechanic as human children.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/09/160919111535.htm

They can learn to differentiate a written word from an acronym with the same number of letters.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/04/170418094512.htm

And flocks build what can legitimately be called a culture by building knowledge across generations.

The take away from this is that pigeons are intelligent enough to learn what your communication means, and can be taught by the same mechanic as a human toddler.

Language is a pattern of matching words to objects, actions, individuals, places, and concepts. Pigeons are pattern mappers, hard wired to latch onto stable patterns.

It is vitally important that you talk a pigeon that you are training through absolutely everything, the way you would a toddler who hasn't quite gotten that word down yet.

They can eventually learn to answer yes and no questions, if you give them a template. (this is already going to be enough of a novella, I can go into detail about that later.

A pigeon flock is basically one gigantic extended family living together in their equivalent of an ancestral apartment complex.

Pigeons only join a flock by hatching or marrying into it.

Pigeons are one of extremely few species that remain year round in the same breeding colony AND cooperatively forage; not just all going the same place, but actively voting on what to look for, how to best get there, and how to best get back.

Babies only rarely leave the flock. 

When they leave the nest, they are taught by their fathers to be pigeons for the first month or so. Where safe food and water are, how to find nest materials, how to defer to a higher ranking flock member. 

The rest of the flock line up to each teach the peep that they are higher ranking than the peep. (Peeps instinctively expect this hazing and are very skittish from five to eight weeks of age)

At about eight weeks, the peep is as big as it will get, and starts to earn their place in the hierarchy by experimentally pushing back against the older birds to see who gives and who won't.

 By four or five months, the young bird has a solid place in the hierarchy, has found out what it's good at, and has usually won a mate.

At this point, a cock earns the right to claim a nest space among his parents, grand kin, aunts, unkles, cousins, and so-on.

Young pigeons only leave their flock to form a new one if there aren't enough nest spaces or isn't enough food to support every one.

So stability and finding a place in the social dynamic are EXTREMELY important to them.

Pigeon Flocks are democratic meritocracies.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/04/100416214045.htm

They vote on everything they do as a group

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2006/11/061106145043.htm

Parties with differing opinions compromise.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/06/150609213053.htm

Because they need to be able to depend on the support of their flock mates to cooperatively find resources, watch out for predators, and navigate home.

https://www.audubon.org/news/in-homing-pigeon-flocks-bad-bosses-quickly-get-demoted

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/09/160914143044.htm

Pigeons will not follow a leader they can't depend on, be that due to a loss of capability, or an unwillingness to heed cast votes or attempt to compromise.

This adds up to a bird that is hard wired to expect a say in everything they are involved in and be keenly, my-life-depends-on-this aware when their say is being ignored.

Pigeons do not have a concept of “Reasons I could not discern”.

If they can’t discern a reason you ignored their vote or any attempt to compromise with them, they just think there wasn’t one, and you're either incompetent or being an ass hole. 

And Pigeons consider themselves to be well within their rights to refuse to cooperate with an incompetent ass hole.

This is a BIG part of why talking them through everything is so vitally important.

Pigeons are EXTREMELY communicative.

Once they trust you as a flock mate, The more they understand about what you are doing, what you want them to do, and how that affects them, the more willing they are to cooperate with you.

Those are the cognitive universals.

When selecting a companion or therapy animal, it’s important to know what temperament to expect, and the typical temperaments of Cocks and Hens differ pretty drastically!

We touched briefly on mate behaviors earlier, and now we need to go into that to explain sex-typical behaviors, by which I mean the instinctive behavioral and base line personality differences between typical cocks and hens.

To explain sex-typical behaviors, I have to walk you through the pigeon courtship ritual called Driving, which has three phases.

It starts with the Chase phase.

The cock struts up to a hen he'd interested in and alternately chest-bumps and bites her until she runs away.

He continues to strut after her, occasionally charging with a sweeping tail to push or bite her until she bursts into flight.

Hens will initiate for a cock they are EXTREMELY interested in, but in pigeon society, the hen having to initiate means the cock just is not remotely interested in her. 

This is less than ideal for the hen, and she will divorce him for the first cock that shows enough interest to initiate the chase.

Once they are in the air, the hen is trying to break away and flee, and the cock is trying to herd her towards the nest area he's picked out.

Ideally, she crashes into it, too exhausted to keep flying.

To a human, this looks really violently aggressive.

But the Rock Dove, from which our domestic pigeons descend, evolved in a Thompson's Gazelle vs. Cheetah style arms race with the Peregrine goddamn Falcon.

If the cock cannot out pace and out maneuver the hen, and his stamina is lower than hers, then her children by him will be slower and less maneuverable than she is, with lower stamina.

This all adds up, to her, as her peeps by this cock being easier than she is for a falcon to catch.

If she can get away from him, he is an inferior potential sire, and she will reject him.

The Wrestling phase begins after the hen has recovered her breath.

As soon as she can, she will try to blow past the cock and vanish into the sky.

He has to body block her to prevent her from leaving, grab her by the scruff if she tries to push past, and fight her until she stops trying to get up.

Again, this looks REALLY violently abusive to a human!

But nest location is a status symbol in pigeon society.

A good nest is high up, wide enough for two adult birds side by side, with an entrance ideally narrow enough for only one at a time to get in.

This also makes it really hard for a hawk, rodent, or snake to get in after the eggs, peeps, or parent defending them.

Other cocks will want a good, safe, defensible nest for their wife, and absolutely will kill nestlings to drive out a less fit pair, hoping to impress a (usually specific and very picky) potential mate.

If the cock cannot fight the generally smaller, weaker hen who just recovered from the Chase phase to prevent her getting out, he hasn't got a snowball's chance in hell of defending her from a healthy rival who wants that nest for his wife and peeps.

It's only after he's completed the Chase and Wrestling phases that she allows him to prove that he's an excellent forager by offering to feed her from his crop. (the kissing behavior that immediately precedes the act of treading.)

This translates VERY poorly to a human partner, and is what makes bottle raised baby boys such a monumental pain in the ass.

Pigeons are INTENSELY social.

The drive to bond is stronger than the drive to actually reproduce, so your bonded pigeon will treat you like a mate.

Which means that a cock will be compelled to attempt the initiation, chase, and wrestling phases of Driving.

Imprinting does not just make a specific person a baby bird's mommy.

It tells the bird what species it is and sets Mommy as the ideal mate.

A pigeon that thinks they are human expects their human to understand these instinctive pigeon behaviors.

Their human's failure to respond as expected comes across as ignoring them.

Which leads to human-imprinted pigeons going from trying to court their caretaker, to feeling intentionally ignored for no reason and attacking out of furious frustration.

This is why I don't hand raise nestlings unless the peep will die if I don't step in.

Pigeons who are parent-raised, but socialized by humans the way you would nursing puppies or kittens, understand that a human is not a pigeon.

Instead of expecting their caretaker to understand them by default and getting overwhelmed with frustration when they can't, a parent-raised, human-social pigeon tries to work out how to bridge the communication gap.

If your human-social cock approaches you and tries to start a fight out of the blue, he doesn't hate you.

He loves you, and is pulling out all stops to prove to a freaking KAIJU, via hand to hand combat, that he's strong enough to protect them and their nest.

I tell people that "Cock love is pinchy."

This is what I'm talking about.

Physical contact is a mate/baby-exclusive privilege for cocks.  Only his mate allopreens him, and he only allopreens his mate and their peeps.

Flock mates other than his mate only attempt to make physical contact with a cock to start a fight or ask for sex. 

So all associations for a cock, aside from mate and peeps, are rivalries and side-chicks.

Pigeon bites can't break the skin (all they can do is pinch), unless it's just a massive monster of a pigeon, but the tenacity sexually selected for by hens makes cocks relentless until they are satisfied that they have suitably impressed you.

Hens, in contrast, are approached by flock mates to proposition for sex, to engage in allopreening, or to invite to feed, bathe, or loaf together.

They are generally more cuddly, more forgiving of restraint (Joke's on you, she's into that shit!), and more accepting of other family members making contact with her.

Cocks who are satisfied with their relationship can be a lot of fun, but their nippiness can be an anxiety trigger if you don't know to expect it.

In order to consider himself bonded to his person, a cock has to feel he has impressed you, like he would be expected to impress a hen. 

It is much easier to convince a parent raised cock that you really are impressed and don't just see him as beneath your notice than it is to convince an Imprint.

Parent raised cocks will be more gentle when they initiate driving, as the drive is more like a compulsive need to complete a symbolic gesture for them than the actual hand to hand combat to manually overpower a titan that these matches are to an imprinted cock.

To convince a cock that he really has won your admiration fair and square, Start by putting up some resistance when he initiates. 

Push him back, shake your hand, ruffle and wrestle with him like you would a very small kitten.

You will need to do this WAY longer for an imprint than a parent raised bird, but when you want to wind down the match, pay attention to what he's doing.

He is never just biting.

He is trying to maneuver your hand either by tugging or shoving. 

Follow where he directs until he stops either pulling or pushing, and just pushes down. That is where he wants your hand to be. 

Relax it there until he turns away, then go about your business.

It will take a few sessions, but once he's satisfied he's impressed you, he'll have no need to go all out like that anymore.

Ankhou (an imprint who is extremely satisfied with a now five year long extremely stable relationship) doesn't engage in driving fights with me anymore, but we do have lots of brief, very gentle wrestling sessions.

Hens don't need human mates to impress them in hand to hand combat like they require a cock to.

They are intelligent enough to assume that nothing her size is going to stand a chance against something your size.

The peaceful simplicity of bonding with a hen tends to make them more desired as therapy and companion animals.

Bonded cocks are just as cuddly and sweet, but you have to go through his Driving impulse to get to that point with him.

This doesn't make cocks bad pets or therapy prospects, but they are definitely not the ideal match for everyone.

@tinysaurus-rex ‘s Battar is an excellent example of a bonded hen.

If you would like to see how his owner applies the constant biting of a feral Imprint towards physical therapy for nerve pain flair ups, check out the blog @homeofhousechickens and search for Loki.

They also have a parent raised, human social emotional support cock named Fluffernutter and have made a lot of great posts illustrating the contrast between imprinted pigeons and pigeons who were raised by their parents, but socialized with lots of gentle handling.

I hope this helps the people who have their bird’s physical needs planned out to pick the bird whose emotional needs they can best meet, and whose personality will best match their emotional needs. <3

[falcqns]

Mute

Pairing: Chris Evans x Mute!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris for the first time and he doesn’t know you’re mute. All hell breaks loose.

Warnings: angst, chris being an accidental asshole, fluff, sebastian stan being protective

A/N: I based this on a dream I had, as well as my experience with being a selective mute from 2017-2020, and how I communicated and who I spoke verbally to. Hope you enjoy!

Sebastian was shocked when he met you in pre-production for the first post-endgame Marvel movie, and you didn’t speak, instead nodding and using hand gestures that he later deciphered to be sign language. He knew that you were fairly new to the industry, and so approached Joe Russo.

“Hey, Joe. I just had a question about the new girl, Y/N?” He asked, while watching you walk of with your PA next to you. “Sure, what’s up?” Joe responded.

Sebastian cleared his throat before continuing. “I tried talking to her a little bit, but she didn’t speak, instead she used sign language, and I just was wondering if you knew why? Just so I can be better prepared and know how to help her,”

Joe smiled at Sebastian’s request. Being the insanely caring person that Seb was, his question didn’t surprise him. “She’s a selective mute. She does talk, but it is only when she is acting, and she’s an amazing actor. She mentioned to me that she doesn’t speak verbally unless she is very close to the person and trusts them wholeheartedly, such as her family and best friends. Her PA is her best friend, and can help you communicate with her. But, other than that, just get to know her. She’ll probably open up to you.” Joe finished, before patting Seb on the back, and walking off to talk to some production people.

Sebastian looked in the direction that you had gone, and decided to talk to you. You may not communicate verbally with him, but he wanted to get to know you.

Over the next few weeks of pre-production, both Sebastian and Anthony got to know you, and both were insanely shocked when you performed your first scene with them. You delivered your lines like you had been talking all your life, and with the gravity of an experienced actor. They both congratulated you, and you signed “thank you” in response. If any one had any doubts about your skills as an actor before, they had fully dissipated.

When it had been announced that production would be moving to the UK, Seb approached you and Mackie with the idea of renting a place together. You had agreed instantly, glad that you wouldn’t be living on your own in a foreign country all alone, especially since Y/B/F/N couldn’t come along. Living with both boys was chaotic to say the least, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. They gave you the biggest bedroom in the house, and began learning sign language so you wouldn’t have to carry your ipad everywhere for your text-to-speech app.

A few weeks in, you began to speak verbally to both boys. They were shocked when you spoke to them for the first time, but were insanely happy. Seb was almost in tears, recalling that you only spoke to those who you trusted whole heartedly. He had become insanely protective of you, and treated you like a sister, which you absolutely loved.

Everything was going great. That was, until Chris Evans showed up.

He had just finished filming his latest project, and decided to come and visit his two closest friends that he hadn’t seen in a few months. Mackie had mentioned that he was coming, and would be staying in the spare bedroom, and you foolishly assumed that he would tell Chris about your mutism.

But Mackie being Mackie, he didn’t. And neither did Seb, who also thought Mackie had told him.

You hid in your room when Chris arrived, not ready to face him at that point. You ventured out just after dinner time, and grabbed a plate of food before retreating back into your safe haven with the cover of working on an assignment that you had told to Seb. They bought it, and you and Chris made eye contact and shared a wave before you disappeared from sight.

A few days later is when all hell broke loose.

Chris seemed to have a habit of searching you and Seb out. It started off with him walking into our bedroom while Seb was talking to you, and admiring how you’d decorated the place. Yo gave him a small shy smile, which he returned, although there was a hint of confusion written all over his face. Then, you were asking Sebastian for clarification on the Romanian lines that you were supposed to speak the next day, when Chris wandered in to the kitchen. He noticed how you instantly fell silent, and whispered a thank you to Sebastian before you scurried past him. How watched your back retreat, and sighed, but grabbed his the beer he came for before walking into the living room.

It was later that night that you had decided that you wanted to talk to Chris. You hadn’t known him very long, but you felt very safe around him, and everyone had told you how trustworthy he was. You had spent the last 30 minutes hyping yourself up in the mirror before walking out on a journey to find him. You heard his voice floating from the kitchen, and as you got closer, your heart instantly broke.

“I just don’t get what her problem is with me.” You heard Chris say. Another voice, Seb, responded.

“Chris, I don’t think she has a problem with you,”

Chris scoffed. “Yes she does. Why else would she not talk to me, and rush out of a room quicker than she entered when I walk in? She has a huge problem with me. I don’t know why she thinks that just because she got a part in a movie that she can walk around all high and mighty, but I’ve done nothing to her. She’s being a bitch,”

You heard Seb exclaim and start to defend you, but you didn’t stay to listen to what he said, instead running back to your room in tears, your confidence shattered. You grabbed your iPad and apple pencil, and began to draw, an activity that let you communicate your feelings. You wanted to show Chris that you didn’t hate him, and that you didn’t think more of yourself just because you got a part in a movie.

You finished it right before dinner, and kept it in your grip tightly when Mackie called you down for dinner. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you made your way down the stairs, but your face fell, and eyes welled up with tears when you saw Chris wasn’t there.

“Is Chris coming to dinner?” You asked Seb, and he shook his head no sadly.

“No. He’s not in the best mood, but dont worry, he’ll be fine.” He said, as he grabbed his plate.

“Oh, okay.” You said, your voice coming out shaky. You looked down at the ipad in your hands, before walking out the kitchen. Seb followed behind you. Just before you reached the stairs, he gripped your arm, causing you to turn around.

“What’s wrong?” He asked sincerely, and you couldn’t hold back the tears.

“I-I heard h-him talking about m-me earlier,” You whispered, and Seb cursed before pulling you into a hug.

“You heard him,” He said. You nodded before speaking again.

“I drew him a picture and I wanted to give it to him to show that what h-he said wasn’t t-true, and that I’m actually a huge fan of his,” You sobbed into his chest. Seb didn’t move, but waited for your tears to subside, before walking with you upstairs.

“He’ll come around. He had a rough night, although that doesn’t excuse his behaviour. I’ll talk to him, okay?”

You nodded, and curled up in bed. “Do you want me to bring you up some dinner?” Seb asked, and you nodded again, before telling him what you wanted.

He left the room, and came down the stairs. he plated the food that you wanted, and grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge.

“What happened?” Anthony asked from the dining room as Seb passed.

“She heard what Evans said, and she’s heartbroken. I’m bringing her dinner, and then I’m gonna talk some sense into that motherfucker.”

“Good, he needs it.” Anthony agreed, watching as Seb walked away.

Seb dropped the food off to you, before walking across the hall to Chris’s room. He answered after the first knock.

“What’s up?”

“First of all, you’re a grade A asshole, and second of all, you need to go apologize to Y/N.” Seb said, anger bubbling in his voice.

“Why? She hates me, I’ve done nothing to her to-“ Chris began before Seb interrupted him.

“SHE DOESN’T HATE YOU!” He exclaimed. “She’s selectively mute, that’s why she doesn’t speak to you! She’s a huge fan of you. She’s in her bedroom, right now, heartbroken, because she heard you talking about her.” Seb finished, his hand pointing at your bedroom door.

Chris felt his heart sink. “Why does she talk to you, but not me?”

Seb sighed. “She only talks to people she trusts a lot, and you met her yesterday. Of course she’s not gonna talk to you right away, and now I’m afraid she never will because you talked bad about her. She drew you a picture in hopes that you would understand that she didn’t hate you, but you broke her heart even more by not showing up at dinner. Now, go and fix it or will not hesitate to call your mother.” Seb finished, before walking away.

Chris sat back down on his bed in disbelief. He’d fucked up, and he didn’t know how to fix it. He thought back to Seb’s threat, before picking up his phone and calling his mom.

You had just finished another episode of Criminal Minds, when a knock came to your bedroom door. You dragged yourself out of bed, and opened the door to reveal Chris. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and kept them locked on the floor, in fear that he was going to yell at you, and repeat his earlier statements to your face.

“I’m sorry,” Chris breathed out. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You slowly moved your eyes up to meet his, and he sucked in a breath when he saw your puffy eyes. “It’s ok.” You signed, and Chris shook his head no, before enveloping you into his arms.

He moved the two of your further into your bedroom, and shut the door behind him.

“It is NOT okay. In any way. I broke your fucking heart, Y/N. I have no excuse for what I said, and I want to make it up to you. Will you let me do that?” He asked, his face buried into the hair atop your head. You nodded and he pulled away from you. You grabbed your ipad, opened up your text to speech app, and typed in a sentence.

“Do you want to watch a movie with me?”

Chris nodded, and smiled, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Of course. You pick.”

You led him over to the bed, and got in, and he climbed in the opposite side. You picked up the remote, and chose the movie “Swat: Under Siege”. Chris wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and pulled you close to him. You cuddled into his chest as the movies opening scene began to play.

About halfway through the movie, Chris tilted your chin up to look at him.

“I really am sorry. I hate that I said what I did. I just- Seb had told me all about you, and I had seen some of the leaked pictures from set, and all I wanted to do was impress you. When I thought you hated me, I couldn’t handle it, and I lashed out. I’m so so sorry about that.” He said, his thumb teaching over your cheekbone once more. “Also, Seb told me that you drew me a picture? Can I see it?” And you nodded.

You unlocked your ipad and opened the drawing app, clicking on the most recent one, before handing the device over to Chris.

His breath caught in his throat while he looked down at the picture you had drawn of him.

“T-that is amazing,” He said, tears coming to his eyes at the picture that you worked so hard to make of him. “You’re even more amazing than I thought.” He finished. “Thank you,” You signed, before thinking of a question.

You grabbed your iPad once more, and typed into your app.

“Why did you want to impress me?” Chris smiled at the sound of the robotic voice coming from the device.

“I was drawn to you. I dont know what is was, but I couldn’t get you off my mind. I had searched and searched to find another tv or movie you had been in, but nothing came up, and I was so shocked that you got such a big part right off the bat. But I was also insanely excited to see you perform. And when Seb and Mackie told me I could come and stay for a while, I was ecstatic to be able to get to know you, and that’s when I realized that I liked you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. Did Chris Evans really just admit to having a crush on you?

“Now, I understand if you dont like me back, but I had to get that off my chest, especially since I just broke your heart.” Chris said, his eyes focused on the tv to not meet your gaze. You gave him a small smile, but grasped his chin into your hand, and drew his lips into a soft and tender kiss.

He let out a breathy moan, and pulled you closer. His lips travelled from your lips, and all over your face, amking you let out a giggle. He started laughing too, and pulled away. “I’m guessing this means that you like me too?” He asked, and you nodded immediately.

He smiled, and grasped your hand in his. “Well then, can I take you on a date?”

You took a deep breath, and opened your mouth. “Yes.”

Chris’s eyes immediately welled up with tears and he pulled you in for another kiss.

“You spoke to me,” He whispered when he pulled apart, a few tears rolling down his face.

You shrugged and gave him a smile.

“I trust you wholeheartedly.”

[katefiction]

And Then There Were Five!

by @thecamridge_memes on Instagram

Continuing after Chapter 6

Please consider any mistakes♡

~

Chapter 7

Catherine's POV 

20th July, 2017

Our second day in Germany started with visiting German Cancer Research Centre accompanied by Baden-Württemberg's Minister President Winfried Kretschmann. Later that day we took a tour of a traidtional German market in Heidelberg, indulged in some local fare and tried our hands at making the twisted doughy treats! I made it quite well at once but William struggled three times and then had done it in a bit 'inappropriate' way but he was so happy about it as everyone in the market clapped and appreciated his efforts, including me. When we were meeting the people in the market, William tightly wrapped an arm around my waist and I trembled so hard. He doesn't do it like this in public. But I don't mind when things get loose sometimes! I also put my arm around his back as we met more people. We engaged in a boat race on the River Neckar in Heidelberg. Before the race began, I jokingly told my crew, "No pressure, but I want beat my husband!"

When we were rowing, William was constantly looking at me and I was totally distracted from the race! 

His boat of amateur rowers pulled across the finish line first and he cheered for a few seconds and grinned at me. I love my William even more when I find that 19 years old boy I met at university hasn't changed much!

As we were leaving the site, now I put my arm around his waist and he trembled harder than I did! What was going on?!

"That was fun...", William said and took off his shoes, "Wasn't it?"

I looked at him and tried to pretend to be disappointed, "It was until you won!", I said and he laughed quietly, I couldn't control my laughter either and laughed too. But we didn't have much time to spend as laughing in our suit! We again had a reception to attend at the Clärchens Ballhaus.

"Keep it down", William whispered into my ear as I was trying to tie up my hair for the reception. I looked at him and he smiled.

"Like this?", I asked whispering too as I let go my hair free over my back.

William nodded and then kissed on my lips passionately. It was a surprise but I kissed him more as caressing his cheek. We were lost for the next few minutes until someone knocked at the door and said that we were getting late. We pulled back from each other, blushed so hard. William quickly fixed his shirt that I ruined and I brushed my hair one last time.

Chapter 8

William's POV 

We reached at Clärchens Ballhaus and I was still lost in my wife! Did she look way more beautiful? Well, I always find her too beautiful for my 'poor' eyes! I couldn't concentrate what was happening at the reception. I was only looking at my wife and I found her looking at me too! 

On the way back our hotel, in the car, Catherine placed a hand on my thigh and I held it tightly. I had no idea when we started kissing as forgetting everything! Embarrassing it was when our chauffeur looked back and immediately turned around and said quietly, "We've reached, Your Royal Highnesses."

Catherine got a mischievous smile as we left the car...

As I was changing, Catherine touched my back, "Shall I help?", she asked with twinkle in her eyes. I smirked and pulled her closer as she unbuttoned my shirt and then kissed me on lips a few times... Things had gotten too loose between us and we couldn't wait until getting changed... Our clothes were on the floor in a mess and we were lost as we lay in bed. I could feel my wife's pounding heart as my lips brushed her lips, neck and chest...

"We haven't been intimated since last two weeks", Catherine whispered as I was petting her hair. I smiled and kissed her on neck, made her trembling more than she already was.

She looked at me, "Don't start again!", she said as pretending to be annoyed and I just smiled again and caressed her cheek. She was on top of me and I wrapped my arms around her with all my warmth and gently kissed on her forehead as she sighed happily and snuggled into my chest more.

Chapter 9

Catherine's POV 

21st July, 2017

End of our tour in Poland and Germany. We were already on plane to back home. But before that we had visited Elbphilharmonie Concert Hall in Hamburg and Aurbus factory.

It was one of the worst plane journey for me although I don't have motion sickness. I struggled not to vomit. 

28th August, 2017

"For God's sake, Catherine... stop yelling for such a simple matter", William said as quietly as possible but I couldn't control my temper and slammed the door in his face. I felt so frustrated and covered my face in hands as trying to stop my tears. I got even more frustrated when I heard the sound of William's motor bike. He left home. Did I yell that much? This whole week was just awful to me. I had no control on myself. I've been constantly screaming and shouting with William over little little things... I sighed and lay down in bed and covered myself with a blanket. 

It was evening when I woke up and because of the sound of William's motor bike again. He was back. He was out of home all day because of me. I closed my eyes and a few minutes later William entered the room. I still had closed eyes but I know his scent. He sat down near my head and petted my hair, "Do you feel better than before?", he asked softly.

I looked at him and sighed, "I'm sorry for yelling at you like this", I said and closed my eyes again.

"Don't be..", William said, "I should be sorry that I left you instead of trying to know what was wrong... I understand you're not having a good time since a few days. Is it mood swing? Are you on your period?", he asked.

I startled and looked at him again but didn't say anything. It was day 34, I missed my period...

Chapter 10

William's POV 

30th August, 2017

"Will you be more late, Catherine?", I asked as knocking at the bathroom door. She was there for half an hour almost.

"Just one minute", she said.

I sighed and looked at my watch. We were about to visit a memorial garden, in memory of my mother Diana who has passed away 20 years ago... Catherine has always said she still lives with us. She lives in my heart, in George and Charlotte... And I have always believed it.

I came back into reality and knocked at the door again, "Catherine, what are you doing?"

The door opened and she came out.

"I'm sorry...", she said and smiled weakly. She was panting and sweating.

"Are you alright?", I asked and held her hands.

"Fine", she replied, "Let's go..", she said and stepped forward but I grabbed her waist, "You don't seem fine", I said, "What's happening, Babykins?"

She looked at me and smiled again, "I am really fine, nothing's happened. Don't be overprotective... Come on, let's go", she said and pulled my hand.

After our visit when we were back home, I felt terrible. All the memories of 31st August of 1997 was coming back in my mind. I tried not to think about them and put George and Charlotte in bed. Catherine was in the kitchen, she had told me to wait for her to go to sleep together. But I couldn't wait more, my head was tearing apart with aching. I sighed and went to the kitchen to tell her that I was going to sleep.

She was looking at something when I entered the kitchen. 

"Catherine...", I called her and she startled a bit and hid something in her hand. I wasn't really interested in it as I was honestly annoyed by her behaviour since morning. No one knows better than her how the last two days of August are too difficult for me even after 20 years. Yet she was behaving like nothing's happened. What was wrong with her?

"I was just coming to you in a few minutes", Catherine said nervously. 

"No pressure, you can stay here for more time. But I'm going to sleep. I got a horrible headache", I said in a cold voice.

Catherine seemed to be a bit sad, "Can you stay awake for just a few minutes yet?", she asked.

I tried not to be rude but I knew I couldn't hide, "I'm tired of your 'happiness', Catherine!", I said. 

Catherine stared at me for a few seconds and whispered, "You would not be if you knew..."

But I was such a jerk and didn't pay attention to that.

"I'm not in a mood to join you with your happy feeling on the day before my mother's 20th death anniversary, do you get it?", I said a bit loudly.

Catherine nodded, "I do...", she said quietly, "Go to sleep. You don't have to...", she wanted to say more but I left the kitchen before.

My headache had increased and I knew it wasn't possible for me to sleep with that. Even pain killer didn't help me. I just sat down on the sofa, leaned back and closed my eyes to endure it somehow.

A few minutes later Catherine came into the room. I looked at her and I immediately knew she was crying. My heart broke. I didn't mean to hurt Catherine like this.

She smiled at me, "I thought you would be sleeping", she said as getting up on the bed.

I sighed, "No, I couldn't", I said quietly and sat down next to her and called her name softly.

She didn't look at me but asked, "Is your headache gone?"

I shook my head, "No but it will be soon, I hope", I said and held her hand. She was stiffened and sighed.

"I... I am so sorry. I didn't want to behave like I did in the kitchen..", I said quietly. 

"It's okay", she said and sighed again. I wasn't annoyed towards her anymore now as I can never stand her tears, especially when I'm the reason for her tears.

"Kate, you know how these last two days of this month.. break me like nothing else", I said in broken voice, "I was just lost when I yelled at you in the kitchen.. I just wasn't in myself"

Catherine looked at me and tears filled her beautiful green eyes, "I know... And I only wanted to make this day a happier one for you this time and.. And maybe for every year to come"

I had no idea what she meant. She sniffed and opened the palm of her right hand. I guessed that's what she was hiding in the kitchen.

I saw a tiny white stick in her hand. Do I know this stick?!

To be continued...

Stay tuned♡

[charlie-rulerofhell]

For they know exactly what they do

Today there was a pretty long article published in the German newspaper FAZ, written by Julia Schaaf. Since there were quite a few interesting topics raised in it and Måneskin talked about some new aspects (or in more detail), I translated the whole thing (it might also have helped me to procrastinate).

Full interview in English under the cut.

For they know exactly what they do

June 22, 2021

Four young rock musicians from Rome are today's hottest band. Måneskin are enchanting Europe. Why? We met them for an interview.

Every romance needs its founding myth, an anecdote from the beginning, something you can tell later in more difficult times for self-assurance.

In the case of the band Måneskin, who first had Italy and now half of Europe wrapped around their fingers, and who are now trying to conquer the rest of the world with their rock music, there is the story of the shoe box. Rome, around five years ago: Four teenagers who are meeting every day after school in their rehearsal room to make music together, and sometimes they play their songs on the Via del Corso in the city centre in front of a changing audience. One day they want to record their own stuff. They find a studio that they can actually afford and as they go there they bring a shoe box, with the name of the band written on it, 'moonshine' in Danish, the bassist's mother is Danish. In the box: around seven kilogram of coins. The things you get from playing music on the streets. Everyone searching through Instagram for photos from that time can find four hippies with children's faces, three boys in batik, the girl is wearing a straw hat.

As they have to pay [for the recording], frontman Damiano David, 22, says that there was this guy, Angelo, and his bandmate Victoria De Angelis, 21, is interrupting: “No, Andrea, not Angelo”, and all of them have to laugh because a rigid studio manager with the Italian name 'angel' would be even funnier for a founding myth. David continues his story: “The guy was completely dumbfounded. 'We can't do that.' We went: 'Sure we can, that's worth the same even if it's just 20 cent coins, it's still 300 euros.” Thomas Raggi, 20, the guitarist of the band, is gasping for air as he laughs, while drummer Ethan Torchio, 20, is smiling dreamily. David finishes: “And then we snuck off before he was able to count it.” [the German text says 'verdrücken' here which is just a colloquial way of saying 'we left', but it entails some sort of a dramatic exit, so yeah, let your thoughts get creative how they left exactly :D].

Four young musicians on the verge of global fame are sitting on a white interview sofa in Berlin, completely styled, babbling across each other like overeager teenagers.

Ever since the Roman band first won the music festival Sanremo and then also the Eurovision Song Contest, carried by the enthusiasm of European viewers, you could say Måneskin has become a phenomenon. “Rock 'n' Roll never dies!”, Damiano David yelled fueled by the adrenaline of winning, and the insinuation that circulated on social media of the singer snorting during the counting of votes in front of a live camera – including their strict denial followed by a negative drug test result – might have given an additional boost to their public interest, their exploding album, ticket and merch sales, and their outstanding success on Spotify.

“We think it's a shit prejudice against rock music that there always have to be drugs involved. We fully threw ourselves into our participation with the utmost professionalism. We give everything for the music. So of course we don't want people to think that we can only do that because we take drugs.” – Victoria De Angelis

Prior to Eurovision, Måneskin was more of an insider's tip outside of Italy. Handmade rock music, not creating something entirely new but paying homage to the good old times with classic guitar riffs and cracking drum beats, being a lot of fun but also quite fragile and vulnerable at times and, first and foremost, conveying a captivating energy. Finally, on the stage of Rotterdam, live after so many months of isolation and renunciation, this wave of energy spilled straight over into European living rooms. It seemed easy to (mistakenly) interpret the winning song “Zitti e buoni” (Shut up and behave) as a declaration of frustration of our youth in times of a pandemic. In fact, singer Damiano David is singing about the favourite topic of the band: the unrelenting need to, against all odds, be yourself, despite or perhaps because you are different. The message fits their provocative sex appeal, which the band uses to demonstrate their independence of gender norms at any given time. But the core essence of rock music has always been the promise of unlimited freedom.

Thus at the first moment, the meeting with Måneskin is kind of startling. It's Wednesday, we are in the top floor of the new Sony head quarters in Berlin. The four Italians have just started their two-week long promotion tour through Europe. In the afternoon there will be a live concert in a queer club [the SchwuZ, but that's not mentioned here] in Neukölln, which will be streamed via TikTok. Around one million viewers will watch the show, some of them even from Brazil, so people at Sony are pretty excited [for Måneskin to come here]. But at first, these stunningly gorgeous creatures [yes, that's the exact wording :D] are standing surrounded by an entourage of people – their management, PR team, a stylist, a photographer, people who can hold a smartphone or a cigarette if needed [this paragraph is worded a little weirdly, especially taking into account that basically their whole team / 'entourage' is just friends of them, but it seems like the journalist didn't know that or maybe they just wanted to describe their first impression]. They seem like fictional / artificial characters out of a Hollywood movie. Transparent frill blouses with blazers and flared leather trousers, even the platform boots, everything brand-new, the makeup makes their faces look like a glossy magazine cover even in person. The smokey eyes of De Angelis and Raggi make them look smug and bored. Later, on the pictures it will probably look cool.

So of course your first impression might be: This band is under contract to industry giant Sony ever since their success on an Italian casting show [X Factor] in Winter 2017. The music industry must have its hand in the game when a band is photographed half-naked by Oliviero Toscani and styled by Etro. Also, one does not simply rent a villa with a pool in Rome to produce new music there, isolated from the rest of the world. And who else went to London for two whole months, shortly before the winter lockdown, just for inspiration? After the TikTok concert in Berlin – De Angelis and David are now wearing fishnet shirts that sparkle with every move, their bare nipples covered with an X of black tape – the band is posing with a few influencers. In the world of social media you would call that 'producing content'. But what does that mean for a band who are preaching their hosanna of authenticity? How authentic is Måneskin? And is their pointedly casual approach to sexuality and gender cliches in today's pop-cultural spirit more than a marketing strategy?

We're in the interview, the recording device is running for not even five minutes, when Victoria De Angelis says: “Actually, we just try to be ourselves and do what we really want to do.” And really: The more you listen to those four how they speak about the early days of the band in their slurred Roman dialect, about the shoe box and their own experiences with being different, but most importantly about their shared obsession [with music], the more you realise that [De Angelis] is  very serious. Ethan Torchio, who got his first drum kit at the age of six or seven from his father because he was beating everything he could reach, says: “For me, music is like food. I cannot live without it.” The bassist next to him laughs at his pathos. Singer Damiano David applauds the otherwise more reserved friend for his truthfulness [it says 'klarer Punkt', meaning 'for the point he makes', but it makes it seem like Damiano is agreeing with Ethan here, although it doesn't indicate whether he agrees that yes, music is everything for Ethan or that he understands and feels the same].

De Angelis and guitarist Raggi already knew each other from middle school and they were the ones who tried to form a band at the age of only 13, a band that actually took music seriously.

De Angelis: “It's just difficult at that age to find other people who really put everything into music and who truly commit themselves and are willing to invest a lot of their time.”

Raggi: “We set strict rules and scheduled fixed times for the rehearsals, for every day.”

David: “Fever, stomach ache, there was no excuse. Even if you were feeling sick in the rehearsal room. At least you were in the rehearsal room.”

The way the four of them talk across each other, completing each other's sentences, taking turns in talking and sometimes joking about each other, seems intimate and playful. Singer David remembers how at first bassist [De Angelis] was merciless towards him when it came to her first metal band project, as she told him that he wasn't committed enough [to the music]: “Back then I was still playing Basketball. I was one of the people that Vic absolutely didn't want [in her band].” Drummer Torchio was later discovered through Facebook, even though there had already been a drummer, a close friend, but he was not good enough. It seems as if even back then music was everything for them. Even if it meant that only Raggi managed to graduate.

And why rock, why rock music of all things? Because it's great, the four of them say in unison. David adds: “Actually, it's a genre that allows you to do everything you want to do.”

When they played on the street, they were laughed at by their classmates. But not only there. De Angelis explains that she never wanted to be a typical girl: “I was always deterred by those stupid boxes that people put you in, and that are just restricting and constraining you, because something is only regarded as male or female. I always rejected that. Instead, I just wanted to do the things I enjoyed doing, I went skating and played football.” Torchio says: “Friends who are not friends anymore were already telling me at the age of ten that those“ – he grabs his long, silky black hair – “were wrong. Because I'm a boy and boys are meant to have short hair, long hair is only for girls. I was bullied a lot for that.”

“Compared to the past, people in our age became much more open-minded. It gets better.” – Thomas Raggi

Frontman David on the other hand, for whom eye shadow, jingling earrings and nail polish as well as his bare torso with the tattoos have become trademarks by now, says: “I was actually more of the average boy.” De Angelis convinced him to try out some eyeliner, which he describes as a spiritual awakening: “I liked myself much more [with makeup]. I saw myself more as myself. As if it had been a suppressed desire of mine.” On a trip to Copenhagen with the others, when he realised that it really didn't matter what people were thinking about him, he got his first fake fur [coat? the article doesn't specify that] in a second-hand shop and let his clothing style be guided by his own love to experiment: “I realised that my whole life I was just going at half speed.” When it comes to diversity all four of them are becoming almost missionary.

At the same time, their success is not only opening doors for them. Back home in Rome they are barely able to go out on the street due to all the paparazzi. “[You need a] hoodie and huge sunglasses”, David says, “the mask is quite helpful, too.” And still, none of them is complaining, and Torchio explains why: “Even if those experiences right now may have sides that are not so pleasant, we still know that for us a dream is coming true. We experience something that we always had in our minds, so we are willing to face every consequence that this entails.”

So is the band facing difficult times, is Måneskin going to change with all the success? Again, all of them answer at the same time.

David: “I'm not worried about that.”

Raggi: “No way!”

De Angelis: “On the contrary. Everything that happened to us happened because we are who we are, so we want to continue the exact same way and stay ourselves.”

Just a few hours later, they are at the stage in Neukölln, bouncing around like pinballs, hammering at their instruments, flirting with each other. “We are out of our minds, but different from the others”, David sings their winning hymn against conformism, and: “The people talk, unfortunately they talk.” Here on stage, the four paradise birds [a German word describing someone with a flamboyant personality] with their half-nude-glittering outfits are radiating an incredible energy with the utmost sincerity, and you begin to wish there was a live audience instead of the TikTok cameras, absorbing and spreading this energy. Måneskin. A cry for a life after the pandemic, a cry for freedom and a better world.

“We do what we wished for all our lives.” – Ethan Torchio

[hyunjilicious]

bath time [henry cavill]

A/N: Ok, i wanted to make this as domestic as possible, so basically this is just plotless SMUT + a fair amount of sex talk. Also, for the sake of this one shot, imagine Henry is not famous. It’ll make sense later. That being said, I hope you’ll enjoy this, and please don’t hesitate to tell me what you thought! (4.5k)

-

"There are literal drops of sweat rolling down my sides" you huffed, throwing your bag onto the floor and kicking off your shoes.

Behind you, Henry sighed as he closed the door. As soon as you heard the lock click, you turned to see him shuffling out of his shirt. It was a swift motion; just a half second after he grabbed the back of his collar and until the material was off of his body and all crumpled up in his hand. "You got nothing on me, love" he shook his head.

Even in the darkness of your entrance hallway, you could see faint traces of light reflect from tens and tens of sweat droplets all over his body. The curls that would normally frame his face were now glued to his forehead, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought he had just gotten out of the shower.

"Has it ever been this hot?" you mumbled, rushing into the living room and turning on the air conditioning. "Like, is this normal?"

"Normal?" Henry laughed, walking past you and into the kitchen, "Most likely not. But I think we should get used to it"

"I'm sorry, mother nature" you whispered, moving towards him.

You settled against one of the counters, and watched Henry rummage through the fridge. "Have you heard about Costa Rica?" he asked over his shoulder.

"No... What about it?"

"Apparently-" he said, straightening his back and closing the fridge. He handed you one bottle of water, and as you opened yours, he placed his’ against his chest, and rolled it down his abdomen. What a sight, but he didn't seem to have done it on purpose. "They're gonna be the first country in the world to completely free themselves of single use plastics and fossil fuel. In 2017 I think, they ran on 100% renewable energy for 300 days"

"Can we move there?" you asked, "That's incredible"

"I hope it's true and that they keep this going" he sighed, and finally opened up his bottle to take a sip.

By now, the cool air from the AC had barely started to reach you, but your body temperatures were already starting to drop. You decided to hop into the shower, and Henry affirmed he was going to do the same after he unpacked the bags. Although you felt a bit guilty letting him do this all by himself, you figured you'd be even eventually, since you were the one to cook dinner that night.

You didn't bother to grab any clothes before heading into the bathroom. You just walked in, turned on the water, threw all your clothes onto the floor and jumped into the shower. It felt heavenly. For a few minutes, you didn't even move, just allowed the water to drip down your body and wash away all the layers of sweat you had acquired during your morning errand run. 

Just when you grabbed the soap, you heard the bathroom door open, "Yeah?" you mindlessly called, assuming Henry must be needing something from his cabinet.

Nonchalantly, he just walked inside, not even bothering to look at you. He just sighed with relief and started unbuttoning his jeans.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, expecting him to just grab something and then leave.

With obvious surprise on his face, he raised his gaze, “Getting ready to shower?”

“Here?” 

He stopped dead in his tracks, his pants hanging onto his thighs for support as he had already undone and unzipped them. “Is this a problem? Do you want me to leave?”

Judging by the look in his eyes, he seemed a bit offended, but still willing to give you the privacy he thought you wanted.

“No, no.. Don’t leave, what the-” you chuckled, pulling the curtain to the side as an invitation for him to join you, “Just thought you were gonna shower in the other bathroom that’s all”

“What would I do that?” Henry shook his head, shuffling out of his jeans, “I can go if you want me to-”

“Jesus christ, Henry” you scoffed, and waved your arms for him, “Just come here”

“Why are you acting weird?” he laughed, taking off his underwear and walking towards you. He stopped just before stepping inside the shower, and looked at you with a devilish smirk on his lips, “Did you do something stupid?”

“I didn’t oh my god” you rolled your eyes and grabbed his forearm.

He followed your guide and stepped in. As you raised your hand to reach for the soap on the corner shelf, Henry wrapped his arms around you from behind. The water hadn’t yet reached his body, but he was still a bit damp and a lot sticky.

You let out a shriek, “I think we know who won the sweating contest”

“Of course I won, love” he laughed, burying his head into your neck. He spoke softly, in a low tone, but he did it so that his breath fanned directly against your neck, “Didn’t think there was any question about it”

“It was worth a shot” you laughed and turned around in his hold.

You took a few careful steps backwards, and pulled him after you. Leaning against the tiles, you stood and watched him walk directly into the water stream. It poured down his body, along his sides and down every calloused dimple of his frame. With your eyes trained on his body, you reached out and handed him the bar of soap, “Wash yourself for me, please”

“I take it I should put on a show” he laughed and you just nodded.

And he did try. “Ok, but like gimme a second to prepare” he commanded, pointing a finger at you.

“Whatever you need” you giggled and watched him grab a lufa, soaking it in ridiculous amounts of shower gel. He looked up at you, grinning proudly as he pushed his hair away from his face.

What you expended him to do was to sensually rub that sponge all over his body and have your mouth water in an instant. However, he had other plans. Henry held the eye contact as he closed the distance between the two of you, pressing you all the way back and against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall. 

“I know it’s not what you were waiting for” he chuckled in your ear, “But I think you’ll like this better”

There was no actual reason for you to argue and try to convince him otherwise, so you just hummed in agreement. He took it as his cue to get going, so his arms snaked around your frame, meeting at the base of your spine. The atmosphere, the hot water, his body so close to yours - everything was working on making this moment as intoxicating as possible.

You felt the soothing material rub against your back as Henry pushed his hands upwards along your spine. In the meantime, his lips pressed against the side of your neck, fervidly kissing away all your self control. 

“Ok, ok-” you moaned, tilting your head to the side. Your words were molded by the smile on your lips, “I see you, ok”

Henry kissed his way back up to your lips, “I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m glad it’s working”

“Oh, it’s definitely working” you eagerly nodded. He happily attacked your lips with another kiss, and you almost gave in entirely. Without any warning, he went full in, his tongue lewdly parting your lips, tasting you with no trace of hesitation. You arched your back against him, and in response, a soft moan escaped his throat. For a short while, he kept the message going, the rough touch of the lufa awakening your senses. It was nice while it lasted, but when he dropped it, you didn't feel like complaining. 

His rough palms pressed against the skin of your back, lustfully caressing their way up your spine. Pure, lascivious need dripped from his lips, suffocating you in the immense pleasure he was able to lay upon you, even through just a kiss.

As caught up in the moment as you were, your reality was instantly shaken up by the feeling of his cock fiercely twitching against your thigh. Not even a moment’s worth of hesitation followed, as you suggestively dragged your right palm down his callused body, only to grip his hardening member into your hand.

Henry gulped deeply into the kiss, his lips freezing for a second. Allowing his forehead to fall against yours, he spoke with his eyes closed, “You’re asking for it”

The threat came in what was probably the most sexual way possible, but he meant it. As crazy as you were about shower sex, it was a no go. You and Henry have been dating for almost three months now, and even with all the lube in the world, shower sex was still off limits. This was one of the very few moments it came as a bother, because you two never encountered a situation where you couldn’t find a place to do it.

“It won’t hurt to try” you suggestively brought your lips between your teeth, looking up into his eyes through your lashes. 

As you spoke, your hand traveled along his cock, with the profound intention to get him to agree.

“It probably will, darling” Henry chuckled, along with a knowing shake of his head, “Just let me wash you, yeah? And we’ll finish this later”

“Or I could just finish this now” you smiled, the grip of your fingers tightening ever so slightly around his cock, “Please?”

“Can you not?” he laughed, “I’m-”

Seeing him about to disagree, you lustfully guided your thumb along the slit of his penis, moving it back and forth at an agonizingly slow pace. It was enough to get him to shut up.

“Fuck-” Henry grunted. His hands slammed into the wall on either side of your head in hopes of finding another source of balance, while his head urgently fell back.

“Knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me” you smiled, fisting his cock into your hand.

Feeling his member harden against your palm made your mouth water. Directly in your line of sight, you could see Henry’s chest, vehemently rising and falling, as water dripped down his skin. His flexed arms framed your body, trapping you between his massive figure and the wall, and it all worked in your advantage. 

“Look at me, baby” you smiled, nudging the side of his abdomen.

Less than a muscle put at work, his head fell forward as if it was the most difficult task in the world. Henry watched you from under a pleasure induced frown, a vulgar color tinting his cheeks towards the most errotic shade of red.

“Go on, love” he encouraged you, as if needed.

The pleasure was all yours. The choked back moans that would manage to escape his throat were all you needed in return. Despite the warm water that was pouring on top of your bodies, his breath was coarsely hot, fanning against your lips.

Picking up your pace, you could feel his cock getting harder by the second.

Cupping his cheek into your free hand, you effortlessly guided him to meet your lips. Although covered in miniature droplets of water, his lips were dry under the strain you put on him. You worked him up beyond expectation, feverishly consuming his whole self control.

A soft purposeful moan from you and into his mouth was the last drop, “Angel-” he whimpered.

“I got you, baby” you teased, speaking lewdly against his lips.

Looking down between your bodies, your eyes landed on his inflamed tip, ripe precum dripping onto your fingers for the shortest of seconds, before being washed away by the endlessly pouring water.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” you moaned, consuming his remaining ounces of vigor as you worked devious amounts of pressure against his slit.

Bottom lip tortured between two rows of merciless teeth, all Henry managed to give you was a nod. A nod of approval, one which brought a smile to your lips.

“Come on” you deplored, crying your words without any kind of shame, “I want your cum, baby, give it to me”

“Fucking hell!” Henry groaned, rubbing his forehead against his shoulder, “Really want it, huh? Couldn’t fucking wait to get out of the shower?”

“Nope”

“Better get on your knees then” 

Vividly maintaining the eye contact, you lowered yourself in front of him. You opened your mouth, getting ready for him, but you weren’t there yet.

Henry wrapped his hand into your wet hair, pulling you towards him as he took a few steps back. His cock hung proudly in its full glory inches away from your starved lips, but you decided to wait patiently like you know he loves so much.

With his fingers still gravely tormenting your roots, Henry made you look up. The fervor in his eyes was reflected in the length his cock had reached. “Tongue out, angel. And look at me, yeah?”

You nodded eagerly.

Henry worked himself through the remaining energy he had left, fisting his cock with nowhere near as much lust as you did just minutes before. But you were on your knees, mouth open and tongue out like the good girl he loves to fuck so much, so it was only a matter of time until he pushed himself over the edge.

He didn’t cum without a warning, that came in the form of a harsh tug of your hair.

In waves, his cum coated your tongue. The water was still full on pouring behind you, yet all that was audible were his moans, and the plethora of curse words he found suitable to express himself.

“Jesus, fuck-!” Henry cried, mercilessly pumping his cock.

He was nearing the end of his high, but he kept going. The sight of you proudly swallowing his cum added to his pleasure, forcing his head back, “Fuck… Y/n…”

Your teasing side awakened, and in the head of the moment, you pushed yourself up, circling your lips around his tip, sucking the last droplets of his juice directly into your mouth.

As soon as he finished, Henry collapsed against the wall by his side, panting heavily, eyes trained somewhere on the other side of the bathroom.

“Thank you, daddy” you laughed, choosing his thighs as the perfect element of stability to help you stand up. You happily kissed his lips as soon as you reached his level.

“Oh, this is nowhere near done, baby girl” Henry taunted, effortlessly spinning you around and slapping your ass, “Out”

“What do you mean out!?” you questioned confused.

You tried to turn around, but Henry forced you out of the shower, stepping out right after you.

“We’re changing bathrooms,” he said sternly.

“Why?”

“As cute as I think it is that your pussy is too tight for my cock-”

“It’s the water!” you protested, slapping his hand, “My pussy is just fine”

“Your cunt is perfect, I never said it wasn’t,” Henry laughed, kissing your lips, “But I got an idea, so now go and run a bath”

“What’s this idea?” you asked as you started to walk out of the bathroom.

“What does it matter? You’re always down for everything I want”

“Oh god” you exclaimed, the way he worded it making your cheeks catch on fire.

“Isn’t it true?” Henry teased, slowly approaching you.

“When you put it like that…”

“Go” Henry shook his head. He slapped your bare ass before you two parted ways, “I’ll be right there”

And you did as told, forcing every brain cell in your being to not buzz with anticipation. Things with you were new anyway, but him acting like this brought upon you a whole new feeling that ached all the way down between your legs. Working on autopilot, you ran the bath, added some random and forgotten bath salts to the mix, and about ten minutes later Henry joined you. The light here was dim, contouring the perfect romantic atmosphere you knew had no place in the room right now. 

“Come here” Henry encouraged.

He was sitting down at the end of the tub, the water reaching up to barely cover his abdomen. You obediently crawled over, on all fours, stopping only when your face was inches away from his.

The salacious smile on his lips should’ve come as a warning, but you were too out of it, so when his hand brushed against your inner thigh, all your senses went crazy. He wasted no time before finding your pussy, probing your folds for just a second before slamming his pointed fingers inside of you.

“Fuck” you panted, squeezing your eyes shut, the impending feeling of his fingers filling you up having an unanticipated effect on you.

“Look at me” Henry commanded, roughly gripping your chin into his hand, “None of that, love, ok? I know you can take my fingers”

With tears of ecstasy coating your eyes, you nodded your head up and down, biting harshly into your bottom lip.

“How’s it feel?” he asked proudly, his grin worth a million words, “You’re already wet as fuck”

“Feels fine” you breathed, getting used to the feeling.

“Fine won’t do, darling” Henry shook his head.

This time, when he kissed you, he shoved a third finger inside your cunt, making you gasp directly against his lips. The pain of the impact dissipated quickly, as Henry pressed his thumb against your clit, working experienced circles against it. 

“Hmph, Henry-” you cried, falling forwards to hide your in the crook of his neck.

“That’s it, love” he encouraged, caressing your side, from your hip up to your breasts with his free hand, all while maintaining the pace of his fingers on your pussy. His movements were aggressive and impatient, pushing your buttons and spreading your boundaries beyond control.

“Oh, god- I- what-” you moaned. 

Complete randomness, and it for sure wasn’t meant to make any sense either. The experience in its whole was new and so was the feeling that was forming inside your belly.

“Cum on my fingers, Y/n, ok? Don’t hold back.”

“Ok, fuck” you whined, arching your back as you white knuckled the edge of the bathtub for support.

Henry picked up his pace, roughly fucking you pussy with the kind of roughness you didn’t think you’d ever find enjoyable. Yet there you were, a moaning mess, squirming uncontrollably as you waited for an orgasm to calm the fire in your veins. 

“How come I’ve never had you ride my fingers before?” Henry chuckled, the arrogance of his tone twisting your stomach into a knot, “No fucking work for me, and I get to see you like this?”

After processing his words and allowing your mind to soak up the dominance in his voice, a loud moan escaped your throat. You tried to muffle it by slapping your hand on top of your mouth, but you were too late.

“Don’t do that” Henry said, ushering you hand away, “Think I didn’t feel your pussy clench around my fingers?”

“Oh- This is just, Henry, what are- fuck.. I’m so close”

“Cum, doll” he taunted, grabbing your chin again. He slammed his fingers deeper inside your cunt, spreading your walls and putting pressure against all your spots, “Make a mess of my fingers, love”

And that was it. The last drop. The last profanity your mind was able to take before slipping down a spiral of endless pleasure. Your reality distorted to the point where the only thing you felt was the urgent touch of his fingers. And he worked you until he saw every last drop of pleasure leave your body, and it still wasn’t enough. As satisfying and exhausting at it was, you were not ready to have his fingers leave your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” Henry said, his voice managing to bring you back to reality.

You licked your lips, uselessly trying to moisten your mouth, “Yep.. yeah..”

As you came down from your high, you cuddled into his chest. The water around you was starting to get cold, but you didn’t care, and neither did Henry.

“You good?” he questioned, the warmth of his tone coming in perfect contrast with the taunting attitude he had been displaying in the past minutes.

“So good” you smiled, content.

“Up, then” Henry laughed, slapping your hips.

Reluctantly, you did so but not without a whine, “Why?” 

“I wanna see if you can take me now”

Your heart panged, and you felt like hesitating, but the mere thought of him stretching you up beyond your limits excited you. “Just- go slow, yeah?”

“I won’t do anything you’re not ready for, angel” Henry assured you, guiding your hips so that your opening aligned with his already hard again member, “I’ll just slip my cock inside, and let you adjust, that’s all”

“That’s all?” you questioned, unable to hide your faint disappointment.

“I’ll do more if you can take it” he chuckled, “But if you can’t, I’ll stop and we’ll get out so I can properly fuck you in the bedroom”

“Ok, I’m not made of glass!”

“We’ll see”

“Stop!” you laughed, “It makes me feel like this inexperienced little girl”

“How is that not a turn on?” Henry questioned, “I don’t get it”

“Well, I’m not one”

“You’re not a slut either, but we both know how much you love it when I call you that”

“So what do you prefer?” you laughed, “A slut or an inexperienced girl?”

“You know what I fucking prefer, Y/n?” Henry spoke, loud and clear, after taking a deep breath of air, “I prefer my girlfriend who wakes up at 6am everyday to work on her PhD but deepthroats my cock before lunch like her life depends on it”

“Oh wow” you giggled, “I did not expect-”

“What didn’t you expect, hm?” Henry interrupted you, “Didn’t expect me to want to fuck your brains out every time I see you in a pencil skirt and heels? Or that half the time I look at your lips I think about shoving my cock down your throat? Or that the fact that you’re 7 fucking years younger than me and working on your fourth degree, turns me the fuck on?”

“Then fuck me” you said, “Now, rough me up, I can take it”

“Another thing you might not have expected-” Henry grinned, guiding his cock to your entrance and tracing it back and forth, “The fact that I still don’t think you’ll be able to take me, turns me on more than thinking you might be able to”

With your heart on fire, you leaned in, trapping his face in between your palms. He welcomed you mouth open, tongue ready to take control, as his hands settled on your hips.

You concentrated your mind on the kiss, on his taste and on the feeling of his tongue wagging dominantly against yours, while he sank his fingers into your flesh, pushing you down against his cock.

When his tip pushed past your folds, you whimpered against his lips, but none of you showed any signs of wanting to stop. You kept lowering yourself, the stinging sensation between your legs only growing more and more intense with every other inch of his’ you’d take in. Henry kept kissing you, peppering the moment with the occasional lip bite that only worked in your favor.

The way he moaned against your lips, the way you felt his throat vibrate with every grunt he released, made you more and more eager.

“So, so, fucking tight, fuck” Henry groaned, “Fuck me”

You nodded yes, sharing the feeling with him. Your eyes were covered in unshed tears, as the hazardous feeling between your legs only intensified. 

“Are you ok?” he asked as soon as you completely lowered yourself onto his cock.

“Yeah” you said, “This is actually nice. Kinda”

“Come here” he cooed, motioning for you to lay down against his chest. As soon as you did, the stinging sensation between your legs blew up. On the other end of the spectrum, Henry threw his head back, moaning out loud.

“That good, huh?” you teased.

“Fuck, love” Henry chuckled in disbelief, “Your pussy was made for me and I don’t wanna hear otherwise”

“No one’s gonna tell you otherwise, baby” you giggled, “Don’t want any man to think about fucking my mouth other than you”

“Good,” Henry said sternly.

“Doesn’t it turn you on though?”

“What?”

“Think about other men wanting me but I’m all yours?” you asked, your voice a bit lower.

As he put his thoughts together, Henry closed his eyes, rubbing his cheek and chin, “Depends”

“On what?”

“Now I’d fuck your brains out while some dude watched and cursed that he’s not me. But I can’t promise that this will always be the case”

“Do you get jealous easily?”

“You got up at 7 this morning to come with me and wait in a line for 3 hours just so I can get one piece of paper” Henry said, “Pretty sure I don’t have any reason to be jealous yet”

“Aw, this is so sweet” you gushed, leaning down to kiss him again. By now the water was dead cold and the feeling between your begs was starting to dissipate, but your mind was in a different place, “You were so cute and now I don’t wanna say what I had in mind”

“Oh god” Henry chuckled, shaking his head, “By all means, please, tell me”

“Ever tried Chatmix?”

“No, what’s that”

“Well…” you hesitated, “It’s a site.. Where people go and masturbate together”

His face fell, “And what do you exactly wanna do?”

“I want you to fuck me while strangers watch”

For a second, he failed to answer, but eventually, a smile creeped up on his lips, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah… I mean no one would know who we are and I think it’s really hot to like you know… I mean.. I just think it would be hot to have people watch us.. And see how good you fuck me, and how I do whatever you tell me because, I don’t know... I’m your good girl…? and I want people to like see how you… own me?”

The color on Henry’s cheeks drained. All the life in his features wilted away, and for a second you couldn’t believe how badly you just fucked up. But the warm tone in his eyes soon got replaced by a wicked shade of carnal blue, and the corners of his mouth tilted upwards, proving that you might have just been wrong. Before he opened his mouth to speak, you felt a faint pang deep in your belly.

“Did you cock just twitch?”

Henry cleared his throat, “Chatmix you said?” 

“Yes”

“Do you wanna-” he started asking, voice an octave higher.

“Like right now?”

“Yeah? Or not-”

“We should” you affirmed.

Henry nodded, seemingly deep in thought.

“Did you cock just twitch again?”

“Ok, let’s go”

[scfttwice]

running into you

> during the 2017 idol star athletics championships, jina unexpectedly makes a new friend in one of twice's competitors.

“come on, chaeng! you've got this!” jina cheered alongside the rest of twice as chaeyoung jogged over to the track's starting line, getting ready for the the third heat of the 60 meter women's race. the slightly younger of the two looked back at the slightly older one, the maknaes exchanging determined nods as chaeyoung arrived at her lane and proceeded to stretch out her legs in preparation. from the sidelines, jina watched as the other participants took their places in the other lanes.

when the race began, the members of twice cheered at the top of their lungs in support of their baby beast, giving chaeyoung the encouragement and motivation to keep running with all her might. she was doing incredibly well, running in second place just behind the representative of another girl group, gugudan.

the race ended with chaeyoung remaining in her second place position, losing to the gugudan member. the rest of twice stood from their sitting positions to run up to chaeyoung and praise her for her effort. “great job, chaeyoung!”, “you were so fast!”, and “maybe you should be a cheetah cub instead of a tiger cub,” were some of the comments from her members, which greatly lifted chaeyoung's spirits after she got disappointed by her own loss. “thanks guys. it's all good, right? i tried my best.”

“pfft! chaeyoung will always be number one to me,” jina chimed in, walking backwards to face her group members as twice were heading back to their spot on the floor. “that girl from gugudan has got nothing on our chaeng!” just as she had said it, jina felt herself bumping into someone behind her, nearly toppling over had both she and the other person not managed to quickly regain their balances. “ah, i'm so sorry!” jina exclaimed apologetically while turning around to come face-to-face with whoever it was she had collided with.

a look of shock adorned her facial expression when she realized that she had accidentally crashed into none other than the champion of the third heat of the race herself. “o-oh,” she stuttered out in embarrassment, added with a nervous chuckle at the end. “funny running into you here. we were just, uh, talking about you.”

the other girl couldn't help but laugh at jina's bashfulness. “talking about the race and not anything bad, i hope,” she teased. “jina, right? from twice?” jina nodded in response to her question. “and you're sejeong-unnie. from gugudan.”

“in the flesh!” jina noted that sejeong spoke with a confidence that didn't at all come close to making her come off as cocky, instead she radiated a friendly and cheerful aura, which amazed the younger. “you were really fast out there! congrats on winning.”

“it was nothing really, it's not the finals yet after all. but thank you. i actually didn't expect to win, your groupmate was pretty fast too,” sejeong said, chuckling softly. “you're very modest, aren't you unnie?” jina asked rhetorically. sejeong noticed the playfulness in her voice as she spoke, and decided to play along. “are you being sarcastic?” she deadpannned, but then an amused smile broke out when she saw a look of panic cross jina's face.

“oh, no no! i wasn't being sarcastic, i—” jina frantically began to explain herself, but sejeong's laughter cut her off before she could finish. “i know i know, i was just messing with you. no need to be so nervous around me, jina.”

jina's shoulders relaxed as she silently let out a breath of relief. when she saw sejeong looking so serious, for a moment jina really thought she had offended her and ruined her chances of making a new friend. “hey, i-i totally knew that. i was just joking around too,” she chuckled in embarrassment.

the rest of twice had long left jina to let her get to know her new friend, while they sat back down at their spot on the floor. “i think it's nice that jina is making new friends,” momo said after glancing at jina and sejeong. “she could've befriended someone other than the girl who had just beaten me though,” chaeyoung added in a lighthearted manner with a small pout on her lips, hugging her knees to her chest.

however, tzuyu wasn't so keen on watching the interaction between her member and sejeong continue any further, especially not when jina had practically turned into putty in the older girl's presence. “shouldn't we do something before she makes a fool out of herself though?” twice's youngest muttered half-jokingly. although the others didn't seem to, jihyo, who was sitting beside her, heard her loud and clearly. "jihyo to the rescue," she giggled as she stood up.

jihyo walked up to jina and sejeong, putting a hand on her member's shoulder. “sorry to interrupt, but we're gonna have to steal our maknae back,” jihyo told sejeong, amusement evident in the tone of her voice and the smile on her face. sejeong smiled back and nodded in understanding. “i guess i'll talk to you later, jina?”

the korean-japanese girl nodded in response, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “congrats again, unnie!” she managed to congratulate sejeong one last time before she was pulled back to the rest of her group by jihyo. “looks like someone made a new friend,” nayeon remarked once jina and jihyo joined them, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “yeah! she's actually pretty cool,” jina admitted. “so much for her having nothing on chaeyoung. you were pretty much melting in front of her,” jeongyeon joked, earning herself a light slap on the thigh from jina.

as the 60 meter women's race resumed with the fourth heat, while cheering jeongyeon on, jina found herself stealing glances in the direction of where gugudan were sitting from time to time. and when sejeong met her gaze every single time, she couldn't help but smile.

[pairofmelaninkweens]

Nostalgia

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou x Natsumi Myaski (oc)

By: @sweet-darling91

Summary: (Post time skip )Kurro has been looking for a chance to possibly reconcile with an Ex, but soon comes to learn that nostalgia can realy lead you down a path of thorns instead of a bed of roses.

CW/TW: Angst, vanilla sex,  and cunnilingus.

Wc: 4783

art by: twi.night on Instagram! one of the pictures Kuroo kept on the wall of his condo of Him and Natsumi.

The subtle warm scent with fresh citrus notes alerted his senses. It was mixed with that perfectly unique smell and feeling that only one person in existence could provoke, Natsumi. It sprung memories of late-night lovemaking in his dorm, as the rays of moonlight illuminated your cocoa brown skin, highlighting its cinnamon undertones.

 The buns you swept your hair up in were removed when he pulled the hair ties free, sending your dark curly tresses tumbling down past your shoulders. Wrapping the curls around his fingers as he tugged them, groaning when you bowed your back as he took you from behind. Remembering the way your ass pressed against his pelvis, the way you would keen when he spread your buttery smooth thighs further, watching your essence coat his cock as he plunged it deep into your quivering cunt.

 He remembered the way your silken walls would quiver around him as you moaned his name, the way your small frame would tremble as he sunk balls deep into you, your cum would drip down his balls. Fuck, you were so perfect. He would get lost in you night after night. Even now, years after you left his life. He would still fantasize about you, craving the way your warm body clung to him. It broke his heart when you lost contact with him, because like it or not you were a pillar in his life.

 You were the one that brought him to accept parts of himself he neglected. The origin of most of his kinks and preferences. Especially the first girl he endearingly called Chibi-chan. Of course, he ignored the fact that it was indeed the same name he teased his Orange haired buddy with over his height-or lack thereof.  It was different for you though; it was meant to be endearing. The most important detail is after all this time and secret pining, he found you, mere feet away far enough not to be in direct contact thanks to the layout of the patio, with the decorative shrubbery around, and the angle his table was stationed at. He had the vantage point in observing you, and it made his cock twitch remembering the way you made his blood heat. The memory of the connection you once shared painfully squeezes his chest.

 Natsumi Miyazaki, a name that was burned into his memory forever. Now sits with perfectly crossed legs poised in your seat. Hair cut into a bob, parted on the side, with bangs framing your slender face. Hazel eyes sparkled when you beamed at the man cracking jokes over coffee. He couldn’t be that funny to be making you flash your smile like that he thought as he turned up his nose, letting his lips sink into a frown and eyes narrow at the sight of you with him.

 The cashmere top with the sweetheart cut highlighted your delicate clavicle and the swell of your breasts. Your form-fitting skirt accentuated your small waist, hugging your hips and thick thighs. Kuroo began biting his tongue wishing he could get a better view of your ass. The white and cream outfit was cute, clean, and professional. It read that you meant business, that, and the subtle tells in your body language confirmed it. The way your eyes analyzed the orange-haired man, and the all too polite way you sipped at your latte, made him laugh darkly.

 Whatever Shoyo was saying must have given you the answer you were looking for, and your response was subtle pettiness. He recognized that polite smile was a mask, the exaggerated nods and the batting of your eyelashes was used to do to supress rolling your eyes. This happened when you asked him questions you already knew the answers to. A cleaver warning and it seems that went over Shoyo’s head. What were you up to? Why were you out here all dolled up with a new outfit and hair styled completely different than when it was back in college? Why change your appearance to shortcake? Then it dawned on him, information. You were working, he knew you were, but was distracted staring at you. The longer you took probing Shoyo, the more impatient he became, fidgeting in his seat and glowering.

 Leaving a tip for the waitress he made his way to your table; he was only 5 feet away when the rhythmic tap of 4 manicured digits followed by a double-tap of your index finger against the glass table halted his stride. It was your sign to him; acknowledging his presence and warning not to interrupt. This shouldn’t surprise him. You were always the most astute in class, rivalling him for the top academic grade and overall performance. Along the way to those achievements, you spent so much time together you were well versed in each other’s non-verbal cues.

 That’s what got him so interested in you, seeing how your mind worked. The way you would speak volumes with so few words and see everything with a glance. Now pointedly walking past the table, he answered your rasp with two taps of his umbrella against the cobblestone patio floor. “Looks like rain” he remarked as he opened it out, and started walking up the street.

 Five minutes later he heard the quick taps of heels and the gentle, beautiful fragrance returned when you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. “Is this a good time?” he asked, eyes still trained forward, steps returning to their previous pace.

 You release a contented hum, and then raise your head to ask, “Which one is yours?”  releasing your hold on him and motioning towards the parked cars.

 “The black Audi,” he responds, as you smile to yourself eying the 2017 R8 model. “Of course, the flashiest car for the former prince of Nekoma high.” You say as you playfully shove his shoulder. He looks down at you and curls his lips shrugging at the tease. “ I mean, were they wrong?”

 Rolling your eyes you open the passenger side door, settling in the seat and sliding off the bob-cut wig and cap that encased your curly tresses. Kuroo watched the curls spill down your shoulder as you rub your scalp and sigh in relief, only stopping to spot the time on the dash. “Ok, let’s go, my schedule’s free after that meeting.”

 His eyebrows raise in surprise, “Always so forward."

 “There’s no time to beat around the bush, if you have something to ask me, go ahead,” you quip, with a sharp side glance at him, before pulling the visor down to adjust your lipstick in the mirror.

 “I just missed you,” he admitted.

 “Missed me or missed what I could do for you?” Closing the visor, you turn and look him in the eye, your gaze piercing through him. His shoulders slump slightly, and a bitter chuckle escapes his lips. “Is it always going to be business with you? Even after everything?”

 “It’s always going to be business with you because of everything. You're the one that said ‘lets just be friends. Realistically that's the best option because I’m too dangerous to be a stranger to you with all that I know." You finish, chest burning with your bitter pettiness and disgust in sympathy for his masked pain.  "You were one of the greatest loves of my life. But not THE love of my life.” you continue, thinning your lips and turning away and closing your eyes to soothe the burning in them.

“I still love you too. But it’s not gonna happen, our time is over.” You finally say.

“I figured that you became an information broker to get Kiyoomi’s attention recently.” He interjected with jealousy clear in his tone.

Snapping your gaze back at him. “I chose my career to be independent, so no would hurt me like you did.  I don’t want to take orders from someone because I’m no goon. I stand by my policy. It would do you well to stand by it too.” Ignoring his pained reaction, you continued. “Taking me to your place, right?  Then let’s get on with that instead because I don’t owe you any of my personal details.” The thought crossed you mind, and the words slipped past your lips before you could stop them. “That information is a premium charge if you’re that curious.” you stated holding out your hand.

“it’s in the glove box” he sighed. “I know you didn’t seek me to purchase information for your ‘work.’ you wanted my time, didn’t you?”  looking up to see him nodding in reply with a dejected smile. You weren’t finished though, thinking to yourself as you exited the car, followed him through the underground garage, past security and into his penthouse. You had a point to prove with your hidden agenda, and you weren’t leaving here until you got what you came for.

  Stepping through the threshold was like sinking into the warm comforting depths of the deep sunlit seawater. Warm, familiar, and comforting. Immediately you could tell that nothing had changed, relief washed over you with the realization that dramatically increased your advantage and success rate for your target. Just like the deep-sea waters though you knew there were dangers the deeper you sank into this familiarity. Shoving that thought to the side you slid off your shoes and began walking through the hall, hands grazing the walls observing pictures of him and his family. Passing one of you in a group shot together cleverly placed in the collage on the wall, slipping into the living room, passing the pictures of the old gang and snapshots of you studying with Sienna, and Kenma. Then seeing yourself standing in the rain in the background of a team group shot mocking Bokuto who was trying to duck out of the shot but failed to. Blushing wildly covering your best friend from the rain with his jacket and hiding his face that was covered in tinted lip balm. “Always the gentleman Bo.” You grinned at the shot, roaming over other pictures of his MSBY friends, the rival teams, some shots included new coaches, vice-captains, fellow higher-ups and the team medics. Then you saw the generous helping of pictures of your time together though, the two of you studying with Sienna and Bokuto, who was flustered looking at Sienna instead of the textbook. Shots of you riding on Kuroo’s shoulders, a cute one that you vividly remember Sienna taking of you covered in your own lipstick when Kuroo put it on and smothered you with kisses all over your face and arm, a flustered expression clearly focused on the camera. You remember the way he was focused on you, only looking to the camera to smirk before he continued his assault of kisses on you. Finally, the last picture was of you landing that ‘Oikawa serve’ in one of the final games before leaving college. Once again you closed your eyes, trying to soothe yourself from the melancholy trip down memory lane with his display.

Slipping open your lids you accepted the fact that the burning in your throat and prickling in your eyes would not cease, letting the cool tears flow freely.  “you cruel bastard. You kept all of it. Why?”

“Because You’re always on my mind, you never left.”

 “is that all?” you say turning to face him, hating the conflicting feelings swarming through you all at once, the nostalgia was warm, sweet, and welcoming. But the result was bitter, cold and lonely. Logically you should stick to the job, but your emotions were forcing you to focus your mind elsewhere.

“Nope, your here too.” He points to his heart. “Every time I close my eyes it’s you, I see. Wishing that it’s your voice calling out my name, your hair that fanned out on the pillow next to mine. Your arms wrapping around me. If I take them down. If I remove all the stuff. It would be leaving a void in the middle of my life. I can’t have that, I’d crumble.” He admits with his eyes locked in your gaze.

You answer him by bounding into his arms like old times and breathlessly kissed him. He deepened it, holding you tightly, cradling the back of your head gently letting his free hands travel down your back and firmly grabbing your ass pulling you close to his body and rolling his hips into you. Groaning as he feels your warm body. Relishing in the smooth suppleness of your skin under his hands.

 "Your skin was always so smooth, so soft." He murmured into your neck. Trailing open mouth kisses down it. Leaning your head to the right, granting him more access to your throat. Fluttering your lashes enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin again. Your brought back down onto your feet, as he sinks to his knees, unzipping your skirt and letting it pool around your ankles. You grabbed his tie and pulled him flush against your pelvis, slipping one leg over his shoulder and angling your puffy lips to align with his mouth.

"Kiss me, show me how much you missed me." Winking and smiling at him sweetly. His face heats at your sudden boldness, a contrast to the usual blushing submissive side. Leaning forward he obliged and kissed you through the thin crotch of the lacy fabric separating his lips from yours. Flattening his tongue, he laved it down your wet slit. Biting your bottom lip to stifle moans threatening to echo through the apartment, you began rocking your hips back and forth, craving more friction. Sensing your eagerness Kuroo pulls at the material with his teeth and lets the elastic snap against you. Humming in pleasure when he hears the responding gasp melting into a soft muted moan. He missed the sounds you made, and he wanted to hear more of them. Slipping his index finger past the ruined panties he sinks his index finger knuckle deep, groaning at how eagerly your gummy walls wrapped around his digit. "God, your so tight Chibi-chan, did u miss me?"

 Whining in response you wrapped your fingers around the strands of raven hair pulling harshly. "Mmmm more" you demanded, he smiled noting the lack of answer and obediently slipped the second digit in, pumping the fingers in and out, taking pleasure in the feeling of you clenching around him, the sweet taste of your slick and skin. But what really got him going was the sounds spilling from your lips when he swallowed your clit into his mouth hollowing out his cheeks and grinding his fingers against that spongey spot that had you bucking her hips and crying out. His breathing started to get obstructed when you yanked at his tie, tightening it around his throat. His vision getting blurry and the sound of his blood rushing through his veins filled his ears. Then on instinct you released the tie, fresh air flooded into his lungs, the rush of oxygen and the dopamine surging through his system delivered an indescribable high.

 He freed his cock from his pants giving himself slow soothing pumps to his throbbing length. Its head swollen, pink and dripping pre that he used as a lube before grabbing your hips and easing you to sit on his face. He bucked into the empty air craning his neck and slipped his tongue into your quivering pussy. Your legs gave out as your orgasm surged through you like a flash fire, igniting every blood cell in our body with hot pleasure that clouded your mind and mad your eyes roll to the back of your head as you released a litany of curses and Kuroo’s name. He gripped your hips with a bruising force, drinking in your cum as it spilled into his mouth, embracing your trembling form.

 As you caught your breath Kuroo brushed the stray strands of hair free from your face and immediately searched your face for signs of discomfort. His lips stretched into a smile when you started smoothing your hands through his hair. “I’m not a dog, you don’t need to pet me he nipped at your hand. Standing, and stripping off his shirt and shooting you a wink. “Well at least dogs are loyal.”  Returning his wink as you get to your feet and watch him as he flings his shirt and tie over his shoulder, grasping his chest and looking down at you through his lashes. “Ouch, you aren’t here to play nice, are you?” he croons as he slips his hands on your waist and back steps toward his room.

 “Not at all.” you answer while pointing over to his bed, “have a seat,” waiting for him to do so, your request before you slipped out of the top, revealing the strapless bralette and flinging it his way, grinning when he caught it in his mouth, shooting you a wink and growling. Releasing a playful “woof” before dropping it onto the floor to watch you close the space between you two. You slid your palms up his thigh bracing the other hand on his chest, coaxing him to lean back  allowing you to slink up his long body letting your glistening pussy lips slide up his hardened shaft and muffled his groan when you pressed your plump lips over his pulling back to whisper, “shhh, don’t get too excited too soon” you tease trailing kisses down his neck, leaving blossoming bruises in your wake, kissing down his chest and finally sitting back up halting your hip to search his face. You could feel the way his heart was hammering in his chest against your palm. “Don’t be shy now Natsumi.” He bucks his hips and you sink your teeth into your lip to stifle the moan rising from you.

 His hands fastened to your hips in a death grip, his fingers and knuckles white, his pupils blown, his chest heaving with anticipation. He nodded and bucked his hips, slipping his shaft through your delicate petals and being rewarded with a sweet soft moan. “Lean forward Chibi-chan, I got you,” he assured. Reluctant to trust him for much, you relented with a sigh and obeyed.

Feeling his swollen velvety tip breach your entrance, you couldn’t hold back from slamming your hips down, enveloping him in your warm, hungry pussy with a moan that made him growl low in his throat. “D-don’t move, ok?” you struggled through whimpers at how the stretch sent pleasure flooding your senses. Your body flushed with heat, goosebumps flashing across the surface, nipples pebbling before his eyes, and that plush bottom lip being tortured between your pearly teeth as you bit down on it to suppress moans threatening to spring free but still reaching Kuroo’s ears. Your hips bucked forward, working your waist in slow delicious circles that edged both of you just right. The friction your swollen clit got from grazing his hilt urged you to close your eyes and twerk your ass cheeks, the sudden movements caused his dick to grind against the walls of your tight core, which clenched him snuggly inside you. He gasped each time you jerked and rolled your waist, bouncing up and down his cock, building a punishing speed that drove him wild and bow his back up off the bed. “Chibi-chan that’s it, fuck yourself on my cock baby.” he moaned thrusting his hip up in time to crash into yours when you thrusted your hips down, making him moan out in bliss, lolling his tongue out as your hips jackhammered down onto him. “Kurooooo, I’m gonna cum.”

 He eased the pressure on your hips, his breath stuttering and sweat collecting on his brow as he watched the way you raised your body up the length of his dick and dropped onto it. Your swollen lips swallowing him deeply, convulsing around him. “Mm cum on this cock Chibi-Chan!” he growled demanding your attention and compliance. “I’ve been dreaming about this for so long when you would finally come back and ride me and let me fuck you into this mattress. Ffffff fuck Natsumi.” You throw your head back as your pussy convulses and your orgasm ripples through your body. Radiating waves of intensity surging through your body sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He sits up to let you rest your forehead against his, both of you panting for breath. He laid slow soft kisses across your flushed cheeks, smoothing his hands up your back and down your sides slowly but gaining in pressure. You also feel his cock harden inside you as he starts brings his lips against your, kissing your deeply and letting your taste yourself on his tongue.

Rocking your hips in slow motions you let him take advantage and toss you into the mattress, sinking his incisors into your neck and his cock balls deep “you feel so good baby~ I wanna cum deep inside you, look at me Sumi. I want to see your face when I fill you.” He ruts into you setting the delicious pace of pulling out and pounding into your dripping cunt, the chorus of hips crashing into each other, the squelching of your wet pussy milking him, and wanton moans filled his ears. He forced his eyes closed trying to burn it all into memory. The beautiful pitch your voice took when he hit that perfect spot deep inside you, lacing his fingers with yours, he crowded your frame with his broad upper body. Balancing on his elbows he used every muscle in his thighs to push into you, bringing tears to your eyes as flashes of black and white cloud your vision, all the breath left your body as Kuroo sent you tumbling into a prolonged orgasm. A wild blissful ride rendering your body weightless, gravity no longer existed, lost in the incredible sensations coursing through your body and spasmed when Kuroo thrust almost painfully deep into you pumping you past your limit with hot ropes of cum pulsing into you. You felt warm everywhere, there was tingling under the surface of your skin, movements reduced to the speed of warm molasses. “I’ve got you Natsumi.” his voice sounded so far away but the sound was followed with gentle soothing strokes up your sides, slowly grounding you. Soon after the feeling of him caressing your cheek and feeling him planting a soft kiss on your lips brought your mind back to the present, just like he would back then. Bringing you back down to earth after fucking your soul out of your body filled him with pride knowing he still could do this to you. The bitter pangs of his heart told him that one day the person doing this wouldn’t be him. The gentle sound of your voice thanking him grasped his attention and gave him the chance to appreciate your raw beauty. The lipstick had long been kissed away revealing plump two-toned nude lips, the even tone of her golden chestnut skin and deep chocolate eyes made his sting with tears. “It’s been a long time, nostalgia’s hurting, isn’t it?” you teased reaching your arms out for him to pull himself into an embrace, sighed at the feeling of you nuzzling into him and kissing his jaw. “Seeing you like this hit hard. It’s like seeing my dreams and memories merge together and play out in front of me, yet the actual thing, still pales every single image, every thought, every memory in comparison.” Pulling back to see his face you arched an eyebrow. “oh?”

 “Every time I have someone next to me, I wished it were your body warming that side of my bed instead, your curls fanned out across my pillow, your voice filling the room when you call my name, and your lips I taste when I kiss. I shouldn’t have hurt you the way I did Sumi, I’m sorry.” He breathed. You closed her eyes and hummed. This was supposed to hurt more. But it was just a dull ache of sympathy, the bond that you had with him had long frayed and snaped, well at least you hoped. You truly moved on. It was a relief and a pity. A relief that you felt nothing, a pity for him, that he was feeling everything.

 “That connection had long since ended Roo, the love I feel for you now isn’t the same. That level of devotion was gone the moment you left me. Understand? I only give that out to those deserving. This was sweet, to an extent. But by no means is it a sign of any kind of romantic reconcile, ok?” his eyes swirled with remorse, and he numbly nodded. Finishing the water he gave you, you placed it on the side table as headed to the bathroom to clean yourself up in the hot shower, rinsing the feeling of him off your skin. Breathing the hot steam deep into your lungs to refocus your mind. Inwardly thanking him for not following you in there. After the shower you grab a town and dry of, return to the room finding him sitting on the bed.  Looking up at you a smile flashed across his face along with a faint blush on his cheeks. “Your hair, it brings me back to when I would help you with drying it out, detangling and oiling your scalp.” You shook your head. And cast him a side glance. “And?”

“Well, it was my favourite, you know I always thought your hair was cute in those buns" he muses, she glared at him. "How childish. People grow Kuroo, I have long grown out of that. You know it was cute walking down memory lane with you, but it revealed one thing. You haven’t changed, your out here fucking girls that remind you of me, holding onto the past while I, and the rest of the world move forward. Grow up, you should try it sometime." You spat, spinning on your toes to invade his closet, boldly slamming the door and reef through the clothes for something to wear only to come up to another nostalgic discovery, with out uttering a word you grabbed the old uniform and put it on, gathering up his travel bag and rummaging through his drawers, eyes scanning every free surface. Noticing that he was not making a sound made you suspicious. “You alive?” tensing waiting for his reply.

 “Yeah, just giving you space-” he was cut off when he saw the college uniform hug your curvy figure. He truly felt like if he blinked, you’d vanish, but when you realized what was going on you yanked the bundles of hair free, shaking the damp curls and sweeping them up into a messy bun letting stray strands frame your face. “I may be a vision from your memories, so take a good look. This is the last time you’ll see me like this. Once I leave this room you won’t have this chance again. So, I do hope that your ‘hoe phase’ was an enjoyable one.” you finished slipping on a pair of runners. “I really can’t believe you kept everything here, that isn’t healthy, and if you have other women wearing my things, that’s- disturbing.”

“What should I do with the clothes you came here with.”

“Burn it. Toss it, it’s of little consequence to me, my job is done.” You shrug on the travel bag on your shoulders.

“But I didn’t tell you anything, you never asked any questions. Did you even get what you needed?” Cupping his cheek to look into his eyes. “Thank you for being one of my greatest loves Kuroo, you really should stop putting yourself in danger trying to steal glances at me. Turning up in places where you think I will be or following my potential targets. You’ll end up putting a target on your back if you keep that up, I’m grown. I can handle myself.” you warned, “bye Sumi.” he closed his eyes and felt you kiss him, when he opened them again his heart sank to see the room empty, but then it sank into his belly realizing what exactly she did. Running into the walk-in closet he yanked open his draws in search of his files and the dossier. No surprise, they were all missing, the dossier, all the files including the first classified drive he had in there.  Damn, He really paid her to rob him. He smiled bitterly to himself admiring the finesse. He attempted to buy time to plead his case, only to be out of luck with love, and now possibly his job.

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1907 Warnings: none

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: What started as an idea back in 2017 is finally here and I’m so excited!! I hope you love it as much as I do! A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​ and to Allie @all1e23​​ who’s helped me keep my sanity while trying to write. Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

For an August evening it’s surprisingly comfortable, devoid of that awful humidity that leaves you choking on the thickness in the air. Yet it’s still warm enough to quickly melt the ice in your glass; condensation pooling on the outside, leaving a ring of water on the small stack of papers your drink is settled on.

Golden toned clouds cover the sky as the sun begins to fade, each day decreasing its presence by a few minutes before giving way to the darkness that would envelope the evening. It wasn’t a dramatic change, nor was it something most people would pay attention to, though it was something you had been accustomed to taking note of.

You looked forward to seeing the sun, feeling its heat on your skin as you stepped out of the office after a long day of work. As other people on the street rushed towards the subway you stood off to the side, letting your spirit recharge with its warm glow.

These days you seldom had time for yourself, moments when you could enjoy the nothingness, where you could stop and breathe, and take in the world around you. The murmured voices of the passersby, the hissing sound of the bus as it opens its doors, the soft strum of a guitar, the endless car horns and the sound of traffic that keeps this city alive like a beating heart.

The heat of your laptop warmed your thighs as you thumbed through a textbook. You ignored your rumbling stomach that begged you for a real dinner but you were determined to finish up this last part of your paper before you gave in to its whining demands.

You were working towards your Master’s Degree in Social Work but it had taken a lot longer than you expected, and juggling a full time job while taking part time classes made it more difficult but you were determined to achieve your dream.

You thought it would be simple when you first moved to New York; go to college, get your degree and find a job. Well, life has a funny way of doing what it wants despite the plans you imagined. Halfway through getting your undergraduate degree your living arrangements changed. Initially you were sharing an apartment with a few other students but your landlord hadn’t told you he was months into foreclosure and suddenly you found yourself scrambling to find a place to live.

The first instinct you had was to ask your current roommates if you all wanted to find something else together but one of them planned on moving in with a friend temporarily since she was about to graduate and the other wanted to live alone. You scoured the internet for another room rental but nothing looked safe or legitimate, and searching through Facebook groups for student rentals was fruitless. Nothing was available considering it was the middle of the semester, so you quickly began an apartment search.

Your definition of expensive drastically changed since moving to New York. Even simple things like food and coffee had an up charge; a small, no– large price to pay for city living, and rent was no different. You thought what you were paying to live in a small room was a lot, but as you searched for apartments your heart dropped. Even the smallest studio cost thousands a month.

There was one that caught your eye, the price was decent but still more than what you were currently paying. You attempted to work out a plan, thinking you could use some money from what little savings you had to make up the difference for the first month or two and hope your part time job would increase your hours. Things would be tight but there was a chance you could make it happen.

Your hope was crushed the next day when you went to see the apartment, a five story walk up that reeked of musty water. The cracked plaster walls were very off putting as were the suspicious black spots along the baseboards. The bathroom was much smaller than the photos, with hardly any room to even turn around in. Still you debated making this work as long as the suspected mold was taken care of until you opened the kitchen cupboards and screamed. A dark mass of large cockroaches scattered away from the light cementing your decision that you could not live here.

That night you texted your friend from home, Wanda, telling her about the horrible apartment and crying on the phone as she called to comfort you.

Wanda had been your best friend since you met in middle school. You always hoped she would join you in New York but you understood her reasons for wanting to be close to home.

“Wan, I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” you cried.

The clock was ticking and you still hadn’t found a place to live. Every day you searched through all the listings on Zillow, Apartments.com and Craigslist, and every day your anxiety increased. It seemed like there was no way to be a full time student if you wanted to live in New York.

You called your parents to let them know what was going on and asked for advice. Through many tears you had come to a painful decision, you needed to get a full time job. They offered to help with rent while you finished up this semester which you appreciated, knowing they really couldn’t afford the extra expense either. Your idea was to go to school part time, taking whatever courses you could at night or on the weekends. You were still reaching for your goal, you would just be taking a slower path.

A new listing popped up for an apartment in Chelsea that was about three times your current rent. Walking into the building your stomach was bubbling with excitement. Everything was bright and clean and the moment you stepped into the apartment you were overcome with joy; this place felt like home.

A smile spread across your face as you looked around the studio. Walking in there was a small kitchen to the right, with a slim refrigerator, small stove and just enough prep space beside the sink. Checking the cabinets you were relieved to know it was free of any insect roommates.

The bathroom was behind it, looking newly renovated while still emulating a classic vintage style of black and white tiles. The main room felt large with the window on the back wall letting in a good amount of sunlight. The cream colored walls also brightened the space against the longest wall of exposed, worn brick. The floors were a beautiful dark walnut that made everything feel warm.

You always thought love at first sight was a myth but you were proven wrong, you fell in love with this apartment immediately. You signed a lease and gave a deposit and suddenly everything seemed like it would fall into place. There was still the daunting task of finding a full time job but you felt encouraged.

Two weeks later you moved into your new apartment, and while you should have been studying for a test you were more interested in unpacking and decorating, making everything perfect. With a few nails into the drywall you hung a curtain rod above your bed, stringing fairy lights behind delicate sheer drapery that defined a cozy sleep space.

Laying back against your pillow you imagined what your apartment would look like eventually when you had the money to fill it with furniture, but for now it was perfect.

You had been on a few interviews and nearly had a job or two before they realized you wouldn’t be able to start for another six weeks. It was disappointing but you didn’t give up and that’s when you found yourself interviewing for Stark Industries.

A confident smile held strong on your face when you told the interviewer Ms. Parker you would be able to start when your semester was over. This led you both into a discussion about college as she told you about her teenage nephew who was interested in the STEM field and had begun looking into college options. Ms. Parker liked you a lot, and the job was yours as soon as you were ready for it.

You became the administrative assistant to Maria Hill, Director of Research and Development who worked closely with the senior staff. You had seen the infamous Tony Stark only once, popping his head out of the conference room as Ms. Hill and CEO Pepper Potts continued to chat.

From your desk you admired the women you aspired to be as confident as some day. Social work was a tough field, one where you needed to balance composure and empathy with assertiveness.

While working at Stark Industries you managed to take two classes per semester, fitting them in on nights and weekends. You wished you would have been able to do more but even this was burning you out quickly. You had little time to socialize but knew this would be worth it in the end.

A few years passed and had life not derailed your plan you would have had your Master’s by now, instead you had one last class to finish before you needed to complete 1200 hours of an internship. You pushed that off until the end, knowing it would take you some time to find a place that would accept you. Even though you would be working for free most places wanted you there at times that conflicted with your paying job.

As the sun began its slow descent the noise of the city increased and you had to shut your window to block out the sounds. All but one.

The soft guitar had increased in volume playing a familiar tune you heard every night. It wasn’t a song you’d ever heard before but your neighbor had played it often enough it was in your head. Instead of writing about a social worker’s role as an advocate for protecting human rights your mind drifted along with the melody.

It was a nice song but not one you wanted to hear every night and yet, every night your neighbor played like they were performing a concert instead of being considerate to the fact that they have neighbors, some of whom are trying to write a damn paper!

You haven’t seen this neighbor yet but you heard him moving into the apartment about a month ago. The paper thin walls allowed you to hear everything, from the instruments he played to the various women. Oh yes, he played them too, using a different one each night. Unfortunately you were able to tell the difference between each one by the sounds of the shrieks and moans that were burned into your mind until you decided to wear headphones to sleep.

Any attempts to continue your paper are futile and so you pack up your laptop and books and head down to the cafe a few blocks away that stays open late. It’s unfortunate that on top of the expensive rent and the cost of school you had to leave the comfort of your apartment to spend more money while occupying space in the cafe just to do your homework; all because of that selfish “Music Man” that you couldn’t wait to give a piece of your mind to.

PART 2

[disney-rapunzel-merida-vanellope]

- never seen this one either. Ok I haven’t seen any war time movie so imma stop repeating myself in these reviews

- Donald having friends all around the world warms my heart so much 😭

- i have a disney Christmas movie thats basically a compilation of disney scenes where Christmas or snow are a theme. It features the ice skating scene from Bambi, the song from beauty and the beast enchanted Christmas where belle decorates a room and the scene where Arthur lifts the sword. And other scenes that i didnt know which movies they were from aka this penguin scene I’m watching right now in the three caballeros. There’s also a scene in that compilation movie where lovers go ice skating but then argue but then the ice breaks and shes in danger, her skirt might be getting destroyed idk but that scene is probably from melody time idk I’ll find out

- i always liked this penguin story 😭 the cute little city, their houses and fun activities. Poor Pablo 😭

- did the narrator just say “making love”? SIR THIS IS DISNEY 😳 kkkkkk i know Disney’s done worst but i didnt know they did it in the classics u know? 😂 but I’m joking, it’s a literally harmless scene, i just wasn’t expecting

- loving the creative gags like when Pablo literally cut through fog, when the obnoxious red bird got out of the projection and started walking on the light projected, when the flamingos appeared 1 chunk at a time, the kid on top of a rock but then a tree but then a rock, the race scene when burrito starts flying 😭

- the visual gags are so good omg i love them

- loving the burrito, kid narrator and old narrator story a lot

- disney was in love with brasil in this era

- “ a very estúpido fellow” 😂

- i just realized that they’ve been speaking English, spanish and portuguese through out the whole movie but since I understand all 3 I’m just noticing how lucky i am now 😭 cause theres no subtitles on this stream

- leva-me à baía, Zé

- this is the same book from beauty and the beast 2017 😂 i want a travel book too

- OH LIVE ACTION

- WAIT. HOLD ON. Donald’s love rival seems to be singing in EU portuguese…… 😳 (after finishing i went to hear it again on youtube and i am positive that’s eu portuguese omg TUGAS TEMOS REPRESENTAÇÃO NO FILME DISNEY 😍 O homem também so canta de tangerinas por isso se eu estiver errada nao me matem 😬)

- THE BIRDS TURNED INTO DANCERS

- Why dont movies mix animation with live action like this anymore? Even if they dont wanna do 2d, they can always do 3D. But i guess people would just call it bad cgi even if the intent was for it to look like a cartoon, right’ sigh

-“ IM A MIDGET” IM SCREAMING

- Kinda feeling betrayed by the disney community. Why did no one tell me the three caballeros was this fun?

- did he sing “we are three gay caballeros”? Starting to think i dont actually understand these languages 😂 (i went to the wiki after finishing the movie AND OMG HE DOES SAY “GAY” 😭 But then the trivia said “The word "gay" was removed in later versions of the song, due to the modern popular meaning of the word.” So i went to google to discover that gay used to mean “happy” 😳 the more you know)

- wondering what latinos think of this movie. If it portrays the cultures respectfully. I’m enjoying this movie a lot but cant really speak on the culture part

- they chasing women and one literally fell to the floor omg 😭

- their bikinis and swimsuits are so lovely 🥺

- Donald acting up 🤨 where’s daisy?

- the neon scene is pretty dope

- THE WOMAN IS A FLOWER LMAO and then come the other two shooting guns omg its getting trippy

- the birds with women legs kkkkkkk

- let the woman finish the ballad 😂

- cactus dance scene is pretty cute

- this movie was such a wild ride 😂 i loved it a lot more than i thought i would. Pretty great. It’s just fun and creative

Edit:

- why isn’t this on Disney+? 🤨 we know y’all love money so why you making me watch it on 123movies?

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

Hello. I am, as you know, an American. I turned eighteen in 2014, voted in my first presidential election in 2016, and voted in my second presidential election last week via early voting in the state of Texas. 

I’m reflecting right now on the difference between those experiences. This is going to be a very self-indulgent essay. 

The 2016 election was in my third and final year of undergrad at Texas A&M University. At the time, I was living with a roommate who grew up in a town of 2,000, all of them members of her church. I loved her very much, but she was the most sheltered person I’ve ever met. 

I was only a few years ahead of her. My home growing up was deeply liberal about many of the things that counted, but deeply conservative on equally important things. For me, leaving for college was a radicalization speed-run.

I, a good Memphis girl, moved to Texas and encountered for the first time in my life white homogeny and everything that comes with it. I made most of my friends at A&M through a Christian orientation camp that I attended, then worked at. I went to school at a history department that was overwhelmingly male and war-obsessed. 

My second semester, I was randomly sorted into a writing seminar on the American Civil War and Reconstruction. There were eight other students in that class, all of them Texans. By day two I had gotten into a open fight with one of my classmates after he used the phrases “one of the humane parts of slavery” and “the secession declarations are moving and beautiful appeals, if you read them,” and “well I’m not going to criticize my own state.”

We got into at least one yelling match per week from that point forward. It was a formative experience for me-- not just him but the seven other students that took his side every time because they just couldn’t conceptualize anything outside of their own experiences, and frankly, I couldn’t either. 

It rocked my world to be surrounded by people who told me, among other things, that their high schools flew the Confederate battle flag or Lee was their all time role-model (because he actually didn’t want to secede! He didn’t believe in it, but Virginia did, so he put his own qualms aside and served his country, and that’s what we all have to do). I ran a survey once by knocking on every door in a dorm hall and asking the two people inside why the Civil War happened. 

I feel like you can guess the most common answer I got. Only two said slavery. Six didn’t know what the Civil War was. 

The last week of the semester, my class read a collection of recorded oral accounts of freed slaves during Reconstruction. My nemesis told me that he “didn’t realize black people actually had it bad.” At the same time, I was struggling with my sexuality, my relationship to my religion, my relationship with my parents, and a handful of newly-diagnosed but long-existing mental illnesses. I wasn’t having fun. 

Over the next three years, I tried my hardest to humanize the people that said disgusting things about minorities, poverty, and me personally. I barely won on that one, and I’m actually really proud that I did, even if it took me a few years. I can trace the biggest change in me directly to my nemesis from the history department, the kid that made me so mad that I started arguing back. I was too scared to do that before. 

By 2016, I was in full existential spin-out-- a very suddenly liberal kid fighting my whole family, all of my classmates, and most of my friends in an explosive political climate, the first I had ever participated in. 

I voted by Tennessee absentee ballot in 2016. On election night, I ordered takeout for me and my roommate, who I knew had voted red. Confident, like pretty much everybody, that Clinton would win, I was trying to show her that I didn’t hate her. She went to bed after dinner, also so certain that Clinton would win that she didn’t bother to stay up. 

I sat in front of my laptop sewing a birthday present for a friend (Kenza, actually), while the votes came in. I wasn’t super alarmed when the map turned red. I just figured the blue states hadn’t finished counting yet. 

The map didn’t get any bluer. By 1am, I knew what was about to happen. They called it an hour later, while I was sobbing on my floor. I threw up in the bathroom out of pure anxiety. I got two anonymous messages telling me the asker was going to commit suicide. Neither of them responded to my replies. I don’t actually know what happened to them. 

I remember riding the bus to class the next morning and distinctly seeing that most of the racial minorities there had swollen eyes from crying. The girl with the pride stickers all over her laptop didn’t show up that day, and I’m kind of glad she didn’t, considering the way some of our classmates in the back were loudly talking about “the gays.” Hope she’s okay.

My roommate came home completely unaware that Clinton lost. I was crying in my room when that happened. I remember showing her a demographic map of who voted which way. She got visibly upset when she figured out what races how. I think she really did feel guilty. 

That Thanksgiving, one of my cousins tweeted, “I can’t wait to go argue with my liberal cousin today. The wins. Keep. Coming,” an hour before he walked into my house. Inauguration day was January 20, 2017. I decided to go to law school a week later, the day the president signed the Muslim ban. That’s when I figured out for the first time just how much power the courts have. The last three years have only enforced that. 

I got angrier and angrier during law school, egged on by a few friends but more than anything just... finally conscious of exactly how the American system works and exactly who’s behind it. I still live in Texas, farther west now, and I’m working my first legal job. I’m going to be a licensed attorney next week. 

I went back and forth for months about how this election was going to shake out. I knew there wasn’t going to be an overwhelming red majority this time, but my big fear was an election close enough that the Supreme Court could take it. That fear doubled last month, at RBG’s death. 

I was hoping for a blue enough victory on election night that there wouldn’t be a week of uncertainty, but that was unlikely, and it didn’t happen. I obsessively refreshed my election map all of Wednesday and Thursday, aware that at least some states would flip after mail-in ballots came in, but unsure which would. 

Again, my great fear was a blue victory held down by only one state. Given (I would say “any” chance here, but I don’t mean “any” chance because genuinely jurisdiction or facts or legal merit don’t matter to the Supreme Court) an opportunity to make one (1) decision that hands over a red election, please know that a conservative supermajority would take it. I cannot emphasize enough how true that is and how important it is for all of us to grasp that. 

Watching Georgia flip was one of the best experiences of my life, and it’s a little hard for me to articulate why, but I’m going to give it a shot here. I’m southern. I’m from the South, and for this conversation it’s really important that I’m from Memphis, a black city and a center of black music and culture. 

When people think about the South, they think of the white South, and on some level, they should. It is absolutely essential to understand the white South in order to understand American history. Let me be 100% clear here. That is not a good thing. American majority history is not good. We are not a good country. 

It’s near-impossible to understand why that’s true without knowing exactly what happened in the white South and exactly what is still happening there now. With that, however, is another truth that most folks don’t get. 

The SouthTM is white and needs to die. The South as it actually exists is partially white yes, but it is also everyone else that lives here, particularly black folks. Southern culture is black, not white. Georgia flipped because the people that have always, always been there finally got to crack apart the conservative machine holding the South hostage. 

That’s amazing. It’s fucking mind-blowing. I watched it happen at 3:30 in the morning days after Election Day, and holy shit holy shit, Georgia flipped. Atlanta won. Holy fucking shit. 

I would be terrified right now if only Georgia flipped, because SCOTUS would have found a way to throw out a few thousand votes. Inevitable. Absolutely certain on that one. 

With a few states of buffer, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I really do think it’s over. 

I came home after work on Friday and immediately went to sleep because I hadn’t really done that since Tuesday. I woke up at noon today, checked the map, checked my messages, and saw what happened while I was gone. After that, I went back to bed until 5:30pm. I’m really just getting up now, after most of 24 hours asleep. 

I don’t know if I would say that I’m happy right now, but I am overwhelmingly relieved. I’m under no illusions that a Biden victory will solve everything, but I also do think this is a real thing to celebrate. I’ll take suggestions on how to celebrate right now, actually, since I’m finally awake. 

I’ll be angry forever, I think, but this is a good thing, and I’d like to enjoy it. If you’re happy right now, hey, tell me about it. I’ll be thrilled with you. I want to hear it. Congrats to all of us. Love y’all. 

[k-llama-llama]

FWB (P.2/5)

Monsta X AU: 8th member

Zoey x Monsta X

This is an ALTERNATE universe set in approximately 2016/2017. That's all for now.

A/N: What are you thinking of this AU so far? check out my patreon (patreon.com/kllamallama for exclusive posts!)

Requests are CLOSED…but your feedback is still super important to me.

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“That was brutal.” Zoey groaned, kicking the door closed behind her.

“I normally don’t mind but….seriously? Why did we have to stand in the back the whole time?” Changkyun dropped his bag on the floor, going into the kitchen.

“Is there any good food?” Zoey asked, coming around his shoulder to look in the fridge.

“Nothing.” He sighed. “Kihyun didn’t leave us anything.”

The other boys had all left after the end-of-year show to go right home for family celebrations. Changkyun’s parents weren’t going to be in town for a few more days, and Zoey had decided to give Wonho a day with his family before she cut in.

So that left the two of them, alone for a holiday dinner.

“It’s almost New Year’s.” She patted him on the shoulder. “We should order food, get some snacks and watch movies or something?”

“Chicken?” He suggested.

“Chicken sounds perfect.” She grinned. “You take care of that, and I’ll run to the store for some extra goodness.”

“Good plan.” He held up his hand for a high-five, and they headed back to the door.

Twenty minutes later Zoey pushed back through the door, two plastic shopping bags hanging from her hands. The smell of chicken reached her nose, and she grinned.

“Dinner time!” She sang.

“I’ve got it all in front of the –“ Changkyun looked over the couch. “Jeez, Zo. There’s only two of us.”

“Should I have gotten more?” She slipped her feet into her slippers.

“What did you get?” He asked.

“This one-“ She held up the first bag. “Is soju. And this one…is their entire snack aisle.”

“Nice.” He grinned. “Grab some glasses unless we’re drinking right from the bottle.”

Zoey grabbed a couple of glasses, hoping onto the couch. “What are we watching?”

“Porn.” He grabbed the snack bag. “What are we eating?”

“Shut up.” She smacked his arm. “Put on a drama or something.”

“What? Why?”

“So we can get drunk and cry over our perpetually single lives.” She grinned, reaching forward for the box of chicken. “Now…put that show on so that I can eat.”

“Bottoms up?” He poured two glasses of soju.

“You know it.” She chased her shot down with some chicken.

Three hours and three episodes later found Zoey and Changkyun still on the couch, very, very drunk. Zoey had stripped down to her pyjama shorts and tank top, and Changkyun had ditched his own shirt after a container of dipping sauce had tipped over.

“That’s lame!” Zoey chucked a chip at the TV.

“What do you mean?” Changkyun rested his head on the arm of the couch, staring at the ceiling. “You’re always excited when they kiss.”

“Yeah, when they kiss. But that is not kissing.” Zoey frowned. “That’s just like….touching faces.”

“Touching faces.” Changkyun glanced at the screen. “Huh, I guess so.”

“Maybe I should start acting.” Zoey was sitting up on the back of the couch, inches from falling off.

“You’re too ugly to be an actress.”

“Shut up.” She kicked his leg. “But seriously, they get to kiss people all of the time. I need that.”

“You need to be able to act.” Changkyun had entered the sleepy phase of his drunkenness, but Zoey was still fully awake.

“I could kiss better than that, though.” She pouted.

“I rated you a two.”

“You rated me a four!”

“Still bad.” Changkyun shrugged.

Zoey dropped the bag of chips on the floor, ignoring the spill, and hopped down to sit on Changkyun’s stomach.

“Ow.” He didn’t open his eyes.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” She grabbed his face with both hands.

He opened one eye. “Why?”

“To prove I’m better than a four.”

“Kay.” His eyes closed again.

Zoey licked her lips, taking a deep breath before she dove in.

Changkyun’s eyes shot open. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t to feel tongue.

And Zoey wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it absolutely wasn’t for him to kiss her right back.

When she finally pulled away, she was slightly flushed, more so than she’d been from the alcohol.

“Six.”

“What?” She said, a little dazed.

“You’re probably a six.” He placed both hands behind his head, keeping his eyes closed and trying to maintain a neutral expression. “In kissing, I mean.”

“Oh, right.” She sat back so she was tangled in his legs. “An improvement then.”

“Sure.” He yawned. “How much is left in this episode?”

“Half hour.” Zoey shook her head, reaching for another bottle of soju. “Come on, let’s just finish this one before bed.”

“Kay.” He held out his hand.

When Zoey woke up, the first thing that she was aware of was the agonizing pounding in her head. It was amazing how she could love drinking in the evening and regret it so instantly in the morning. She was sure that all of the chicken and snacks wasn’t helping settle her stomach either.

She reached blindly for her phone, coming in contact with Changkyun instead.

“Ow.” He groaned, rolling back over into the pillow.

“Sorry.” She rubbed her eyes. “I just need to find the lamp.”

Her hand landed on the pull string, and she pulled it, turning the light on.

And then she screamed.

[chandelier-s-notebook]

If anyone wants to be part of a taglist for Assassinate But Nah, feel free to message me/send an ask/or mention it in reblogs.

Taglist: @sleepysnails @causeimfabulous

Ao3 link

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

Thanksgiving weekend Ranboo takes Tubbo to one of his sibling’s matinée drag shows. Tubbo enjoys himself, but he can’t help but know in the back of his head that this person is used by the Jays.

The two boys slip backstage after the show. “Hey Eret!” Ranboo throws his arms around her shoulders.

“Ranboo!” Eret sees Tubbo over her little brother’s shoulders. “Who’s your friend?”

“Tubbo Jacobs.”

Eret flinches imperceivably. “Jacobs?”

Tubbo knows Eret recognizes him. “Mhm.” He stands his ground. “You might have heard about my dad?”

“I think I have.” Eret stares Tubbo down. “Editor of the Houver Mailer, yeah?”

“Yep.”

Eret gives Tubbo a wink, less playful and more a warning than anything though. Ranboo is luckily oblivious to the exchange and simply sits down and starts talking to Eret.

Tubbo doesn’t sit, instead he takes a look around the room. He wanders over to Eret’s dresser. Under the frills, and the sparkle, and the headdress he spots a few envelopes. He files that away for later and sits on the floor next to Ranboo.

He falls easily into the siblings’ conversation. Eventually, Eret sends Ranboo away to pick up their food delivery.

Eret stands up and brushes away the frills on her vanity stand. “Jacobs?”

“Yes?”

She hands him three letters. “The third is for your father, the other two are for you.”

“Understood.” Tubbo pockets him. For Karl, got it. “Ranboo isn’t my mark,” he says.

“Oh.” Eret lets out a breath and his shoulders slump in relief. “Good. I don’t want him to see your stuff.”

“So he doesn’t know about yours?”

“Of course not!”

Tubbo melts into the couch. “He won’t see my stuff. That’s just dumb. Besides, I’d like to keep Ranboo.”

Eret barks a laugh. “You seem like a good kid Tubbo. From what I know about you, I wouldn’t mind having you around as Ran’s friend, But if you think you can keep him, you’re delusional.”

“I know.” Tubbo pats the pocket where he put the letters. “A boy can dream.” He abruptly sits up. “Even with the assassin thing?”

“Tubbo if I met you in any other circumstance you wouldn’t be an assassin.”

“If you met me in any other circumstance I wouldn’t have been shaped by the world to be like this.”

Eret smiles sadly at the teenager on his floor. “Just use your skills to kill the guy that comes after him because he’s your friend.”

Ranboo chose that moment to come back with the takeout. “I have spaghetti!” He notes Tubbo rolling on the floor in laughter. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing big man.”

After eating with Eret, Tubbo and Ranboo spend the rest of the afternoon at the bowling alley.

Tubbo has never been bowling. Ranboo has been bowling at least four times every year for his whole life.

Tubbo has a higher strike radio than Ranboo. Must be the precision training he’s done while working for the Jays. Tubbo brushes off Ranboo’s amazement.

Ranboo really starts to become Tubbo’s friend. They share a lunch period and four of six classes. They would joke around in the back of the classroom; nudging each others’ shoulders and sharing secret laughs.

Tubbo doesn’t ever remember being this happy. He honestly hopes it’s because he buried his childhood when he started working for Schlatt at ten, -- learned how to use and clean a gun on his first day -- and not that he didn’t have happy memories. In any case, it had been a hot minute since he’d had someone his age to play with.

No. Tubbo was a teenager now.

In any case, it had been a hot minute since he’d had someone his own age to hang out with. Tubbo applauds Ranboo’s strike.

Fuck. This isn’t real. He’s going to kill Thomas Rough.

He has to kill Ranboo’s best friend Tommy.

Fuck.

Tubbo has been trying hard to remember that this kid is Thomas Rough, his mark. But it’s so hard when everybody around him calls him ‘Tommy’ and Ranboo excitedly tells Tubbo about how much he thinks they’ll like each other when Tommy comes back from Oak Park Academy.

Tubbo isn’t ready to lose this. He rolls the ball down the lane, “Strike.”

But he’s also ready to go back to being Toby Maron, son of homicide detective Captain Maron, older brother to local fencing champion Lani Maron. Tubbo just needs to finish this job, then he can go back to that.

Ranboo gets another strike and shots Tubbo a toothy grin.

Tubbo wants to rebel. He wants to keep his new friend. And Thomas Rough feels more like his friend than a mark. Even if they’ve never met. Even if Tubbo feels like he knows his as well as he does Ranboo.

Tubbo spends dinner alone, eating a pizza out on the fire escape. He had given Karl his letter, and the man left immediately after reading it.

The first letter from Schlatt. He skims it. He picks out the important information, then rips it to shreds. Just Schlatt telling him to not lose sight of the mission. And because it’s thanksgiving, Schlatt mentions how thankful he is for having scuk a skilled young hitman.

Fuck that guy.

The other letter is from Lani. She thanks him for everything he does and for making sure she got a normal childhood, out of servitute from the Jays. She wishes him a happy thanksgiving and asks if she can have his slice of pie.

Karl had two slices of apple pie in the fridge. Tubbo slips back into the house and nabs the two slices. He eats them both out of spite. First, so Karl doesn’t get a slice. Second, because if Lani gets two slices then so does he.

Tubbo is only thankful for few things. He’s thankful that he’s got the ability to push through the shit that is his circumstance. He’s thankful that Lani gets a normal childhood, not that the Jay’s don’t affect her life as well. He’s also thankful that he has a friend.

Tubbo sits on the fire escape conflicted. He’s been over this, and either way he doesn’t get to keep Ranboo as a friend. He can’t see a way out.

Tubbo may have been working with the Jays for six years, but he only vaguely knew about the Craftsmen. He should probably get on that.

He pulled out his phone and started where all good research starts: Wikipedia.

Last Updated April 23, 2021

The Craftsmen are a crime family currently led by Philip “Philza” Wright, and his two sons Techno “Blade” Wright, and Wilbur “Sooty” Wright. The Craftsmen have been in Houver for multiple generations run by the Dabria Family. Kisten Dabria, the only child born to her parents, the past leaders of the Craftsmen, married Philip Wright in 1998. After the death of Dabria Sr. Philza and Kristen grasped power and took control of the Craftsmen.

Philza, Blade, and Sooty now run the family while Kristen runs a local bakery and has escaped the Craftsmen influence, as much as she can with the leaders literally sitting at her dinner table each night.

Techno “Blade” and Wilbur “Sooty” were born into the family and have been aiding their father willingly for as long as anyone can remember. They both had normal lives and graduated from Griante Bay in 2017. Blade was on the mathletes team, winning the trophy for the school every year, and Sooty was one of the school’s star performers in their drama department.

[. . .]

There are rumors floating around about a third son, but those have never been confirmed.

And there it was. That was Tommy for sure. Thomas Rough. Thomas Wright.

[s-creations]

This Lullaby

He knew it was going to be a struggle. They all knew it was going to be a struggle. But raising Della's children, for some reason, makes Donald feel worse than before. And he wasn't sure how to make that feeling go away.

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros         Rating: General Audience        Relationships/Pairings:  José  Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles Additional Tags: Original Character, Depression, Loss, Loss of Family.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Hey everybody! Just like the previous entry to this, I have tagged depression on this installment as well. I think it's a bit more pronounced that in the previous story. So, just be warned, it's there.

And someday I'll make a happy story with these six. Someday...but not today.

If Della was there, Donald would want her to explain why she thought Jet, Turbo, and Rebel were good names to give children. I mean, really? Those were names you use for imaginary friends. This was a setup for the triplets to be bullied later in their lives. Seriously, what was she thinking?

 But...Della wasn’t there. So, he had to just silently stew. Wondering what her thought process had been.

 More than just her naming choices.

 Donald named the older triplet Hubert, or Huey, after a captain the older duck has served under. A tough but fair bulldog. Built like a wall and able to punch with the strength of a bulldozer. Or, that’s what the stories swapped between the cadets said. But the bulldog was more of a talker. Wanting to smooth things over any confrontations with words before the fists had to come out. A philosophy that Donald had hoped the older triplet would follow. 

 Dewford, or Dewey, was given his name by Panchito. The rooster recalled his favorite childhood storybook that he’d read multiple times when the family became too loud. One that told of an adventurer who saves the world on a regular basis. The main character was brave, putting the needs of others before his own and making sure the innocent were kept safe. While it hit a little close to home for Donald, the duck couldn’t help but admit that the name seemed to fit the duckling perfectly.

 José had taken a while in naming the youngest. A few days passed before he gave his choice to the other two. Llewellyn, or Louie, named after the parrot’s late grandfather. Shocking both the duck and rooster by the reveal as they’d never heard of this parrot before. José was known to not get along well with his family. He explains, while cradling the green bundled form closer, that his grandfather was the only person José had connected with. The elder parrot had passed when José was only four. Far too soon.

 The other two pressed closer after the reveal. Saying that Louie was a perfect name. A wonderful way to remember a good soul.

 It was hard getting into a new routine. When the triplets were still eggs, all that was needed was to keep them warm and keep them on a stable surface. Now it was about keeping the triplets entertained. Fed. Cleaned. Making sure they get enough sleep. Deciding if pre-school was a better place to start schooling then kindergarten. When would be the best time for them to start socializing? 

 “Why is it so hard to find a three seated stroller that can break apart into separate single ones? Do I really have to design my own?” Donald grumbled as he scrolled through the shopping page. 

 Panchito looked over from his spot on the couch with a raised brow. “Why would we need that? We can just take them on a walk together, all in single strollers.” 

 “What if José’s not here.”

 “Um, a duo stroller with a single one?” 

 “What if you’re both not home and I need to get out of the house with the kids?”

 “...We’ll keep looking.”

 The duck couldn’t say this enough times about how thankful he was that Panchito and José were there to help. Trying to balance all of this and worry about keeping a stable job? He would have started molting long before the eggs had hatched. 

 How would Della have handled this?

 While the other two took care of finances, Donald focused his energy and attention on the home front. Even then, caring for the house and the triplets was a...struggle. He wasn’t sure how to raise kids. His own childhood was filled with being dropped off at a new family member’s house every other weekend. Or on dangerous adventures in which he should have and almost did die. Only surviving on sheer dumb luck. 

 Luck, from him, could you imagine? 

 Della’s luck didn’t last forever. 

 The triplets were exploratory the moment they learned how to crawl. If Donald had his back turned for even a second, they would scatter. Thankfully, due to the older duck’s prep work, they couldn’t get into the many places. But that didn’t mean the triplets couldn’t find new areas to help give their uncle a heart attack. Like when Dewey somehow found his way onto the top of the refrigerator. 

 How? How was that even possible? Donald was feeling absolutely exhausted…

 “Do you need me to take some time off? I am sure I can convince my company to give me a few days home to help with the boys and let you sleep.” José offered.

 “No no. I’m sure they're still upset since you left so suddenly before, then decided to change location, and then ask for more time off only a few months later? No, you don’t need to worry about that. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” 

 “I could ask for time off.” Panchito voiced.

 “You just started working. Guy, I’m serious when I say I’m fine. The triplets are just a bit of a handful. I got this.”

 It wasn’t a necessary lie. But it wasn’t fully true either. Just like when the other two asked if he was okay when they first arrived. Donald knew he was in an unstable state at this moment. He was emotionally and mentally exhausted. Everyday it was an internal battle of wanting his family back and never wanting to experience that kind of pain again. He was still angry with Scrooge and Gyro with how they handled the entire situation. Still hurt that Gladstone was so indifferent or angry without truly being involved. Donald would have reached out to Fethry, but he knew how much of a blabbermouth his cousin was. And he didn’t want Scrooge to know anything about his life. 

 What was most painful was how torn he was feeling about Della. Donald was furious that she just left. That she would just abandon her eggs, and so easily too. For Donald, it was a declaration that she didn’t want to be responsible. It was just something she wanted someone else to take care of them. How was he supposed to explain this to the triplets when they started asking what happened to their mother? 

 The turmoil that Donald felt was the idea that...could he really be mad at her? She was gone. Her choice was paid with the ultimate price. So could he hold a grudge with someone who wasn’t there? Who was never going to be there. He wanted to. But he knew it would just drive him further into an unkempt state. Holding a grudge against someone he would never see again. There would be anger burning in him that would never be able to be released. 

 As if Donald didn’t have enough issues with his anger. 

 Donald was brought out of his thoughts hearing gentle coos. Eyes traveling over to the standing playpen. The triplets were starting to try and stand. Dewey showed off his skills as he clung to the pen’s wall netting. His brother’s were more interested in the surrounding toys. But the blue dressed triplet was focused on his fractured uncle. 

 Letting out a small sigh, Donald lifted Dewey up, sitting down by the playpen.

 “You should be with your mother… She should be here, raising you three… All of this...it’s all so unfair…” He pulled Dewey closer, cradling the small head with his hand and it was pressed against his chest. 

 Donald was tired. He was scared. He didn’t know what he was doing. He wondered why Panchito and José would stick around. They were supposed to be living their life in vibrant cities that matched their personalities. Not stuck here. Dealing with the absolute mess that was Donald and his life and his famiy. It was a battle between knowing he needed the help and not wanting to be a burden.

 A small pat to his chest brought attention back to the triplet laying on his chest. Dewey letting out a small whimper. As if he was aware of how upset his uncle was. 

 Donald gave a gentle smile to the duckling. He cautiously stood, collecting the other two, and laid them out on the blanket that had been placed on the floor. Donald laid himself down on his stomach. Laughing softly as the triplets began crawling closer. Babbling as they clung to feathers and attempted to climb onto their uncle. 

 A misstep from Huey caused him to take a tumble, landing on his back. Small sobs bubbling up as his legs kicked desperately. In response, Donald reached out, cradling the red cladded triplet’s head in his hand while the other rested on the stomach. Huey turned to face his uncle. Unshed tears at the corners of his eyes were gently wiped away. 

 “Look to the stars my darling baby boys…”

 Huey’s eyes lit up, falling completely still as he focused on Donald. Dewey and Louie rolled off their uncle. Instead propping themselves up on Donald’s arms, starting at him as well. Their eyes wide with curiosity. 

 Now that he had full attention by his audience, Donald started again.

 Look to the stars my darling baby boys,

 Life is strange and vast,

 Filled with wondrous and joys,

 Face each new sun with eyes clear and true,

 Unafraid of the unknown,

 Because I’ll face it all with you.

 He was crying before he finished. No sobbing or cracking voice, just tears. The triplets had calmed down and were starting to drift off. Unaware of their uncle finally reaching his breaking point. Donald didn’t flinch when José and Panchito suddenly appeared. Each laying on either side of the duck, whose eyes were still trained on the triplets. 

 “I don’t think I know that song.” Panchito whispered.

 “Della wrote it,” Donald replied, “She’d sing it to them every night… When they were still eggs and she was...you know...still here.”

 “It was beautiful. We shall need to sing it more.” José suggested, pressing closer. 

 Donald didn’t reply right away. Focusing on the warmth seeping in from the bodies pressed against him. “I think there’s something wrong with me. I’m...angry. Not just angry, I can’t focus. I don’t know what I’m really angry about. I think. I just know that I am. I’m so...exhausted.” 

 The parrot hummed. Reaching up to preen at the exposed white feathers. “I think...you have had a lot of things being thrown at you. Very quickly. Without a way to fully...understand how to deal with it. Like me.”

 “Like you?”

 “Very much like me. I believe it would benefit you if you saw someone. It has helped me.”

 “...When have you started seeing a therapist?”

 “A few years now. Panchito convinced me to do so.”

 “I can try and convince you as well.” The rooster added with a smile.

 Donald gave a soft laugh. “No...I’ll go… I think I need to go. I know I need it… I’m sorry.”

 “You have nothing to be sorry for. We understand, we are just here to help.” José whispered, Panchito nodded softly as he laid his head on the duck’s shoulder.

 Donald let out a shaky breath, eyes closing as he sank into the warmth surrounding him. 

 “It will be okay. We are here for you and it will be okay…”

 _____________________

 Donald let out a slow breath, scrunching himself further down into the cushioned chair. The triplets were babbling happily resting in their three seated stroller. All being entertained by Panchito while José focused on the older duck. The waiting room for the therapy office was small, with only a few cushioned chairs, a fake plant pushed into the corner, with a magazine rack hanging on the wall. The reception desk was situated across from the entrance with a large window resting across from where the six of them were resting. 

 Donald was realizing how cold this office was.

 “You will be fine. Dr. Bessing is amazing. I have only been with her for a few months, but I trust her.” José said as he took Donald’s hand gently. 

 “What if I don’t like her?” The duck questioned quietly.

 “Then we find someone else. And we will keep doing this until we find someone you do trust. It will be fine,” José smiled softly, “Do you trust me?”

 “Yeah, of course.”

 “Then trust me when I say you will be cared for.”

 Whatever bravado Donald had started to build was instantly broken when the nearby door opened. A robin with short brown hair and casually dressed entered, carrying a clipboard. She smiled over at the six of them. Giving a small coo seeing the triplets before her full attention went to Donald. “Mr. Donald Duck?”

 José gave a gentle nudge, giving an encouraging smile as Donald slowly stood. He was led to where the back offices were. Entering one of the rather small rooms, the large window showing the garden behind the building being the first thing Donald noticed. It was sunny outside, the light hitting the garden path perfection. It looked like it came from a photograph.

 The office itself was small, but rather cozy. Warm and inviting. Even with the numerous medical items seen around the room. A desk was pushed against the wall that was across from the window, framed with paperwork and books, a closed laptop resting in the center, and a leather, armed chair placed before it. Numerous diplomas were hanging on the wall above said desk. A cushioned chair was facing the desk, with a small end table nearby that was covered with numerous children’s toys. A large bookshelf was placed by the window and was filled with a number of thick volumes. Donald couldn’t really read all the titles. But from what he’d been able to see, they all held something about psychology. 

 “Go ahead and take a seat.” Dr. Bessing smiled as she took the seat by the desk. Donald let out a shaky sigh as he did as was suggested. “So, how are you feeling today? I know therapy can be a little overwhelming for the first time.”

 “Um...yeah, I am a little nervous.” 

 “Completely understandable. You’re not used to opening up to complete strangers and now you're suddenly supposed to change your whole outlook? In one hour? It’s a weird feeling. But I am here to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. This is a safe space and nothing will be shared with anyone unless it’s on your say so.” 

 “Okay… Um, did José tell you...anything? I-I know you’re seeing him. Am I allowed to know that? I’m not breaking any rules am I?”

 “No, you’re all good. José is allowed to share who he sees and what we talk about if he wants. The clients are in control as to what’s shared with other members of the family and friends. As far as him telling me anything, he just informed me you’re having a bit of a family issue. Nothing more. I want you to tell me what’s happening in your life. Even if he’s your husband, he can’t speak for your experiences directly. And, I will say this again, nothing leaves this room unless you want to share it. Either here or at home. It’s about making you feel safe.”

 “Okay… I… Where do I...how do I start this?”

 “Why don’t you just start with what brought you in today. What has happened currently that would make you feel that you need to see someone.” 

 Donald nodded, rubbing his hands together. “...Sorry, I really don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

 “That’s fine. First session is an open book, you just talk with whatever comes to mind,  and it sounds like there’s a lot to tell. Just take a few minutes, try and get everything in order, and start when you feel ready.”

 Taking a few deep breaths, Donald allowed himself a few minutes. Eyes traveling to the garden as he tried to find the right words to start with. A small smile formed seeing numerous daffodils growing proudly among the green.

 Della’s favorite flower... 

 He gave another nod and started.

[yehet-me-up]

Content Tag Game

Tagged by EXO sister-wife Kat @yeoldontknow​ <3 1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

3. how long have you been writing? on this blog?

uhhh I definitely wrote half of several harry potter and lotr fanfics in HS but that was ‘the dark times’ many moons ago. so as an adult this is my only fandom! just stumbled into kpop and stumbled onto fanfics in the most backwards way possible (was sent a meme of a 1D ‘imagine’ and was like hey I wonder if they have these for kpop and then I found them and they were not a meme, but were fucking incredible AND NOW 4 YEARS LATER (started August-ish 2017???) here we are hahaha)

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

oh dear god i just remembered I have an AO3 account..... WHOOPS, shit 😅 might need to, y’know, update that at some point. jfc adhd object permanence is something else.

5. what is your favorite genre to write?

Personally it’s sci fi/fantasy, but here in the fanfic space I’d say..... uhh slice of life, romance, angst but make it a happy ending?? fanfic is a way for me to share all the sort romantic hopeful feelings I have about love and life and friendship and purpose 💕

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

Used to be a pantser when I started this (and when fics used to be like ?? 3k-5k) now that fics in general are longer for one-shots and series my good lord I need an outline. Especially for exo mall which is *insert meme of crazy guy with the bulletin board* a lot for my brain haha

7. one shot or multi-chapter?

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

I’d say mine are usually 5k or so?? some series were shorter per chapter, depending on subject matter. I tend to write like... interconnected long as frick oneshots, so i don’t count those as chapters ☠️

9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?

uhhhhh good question haha. my book was 95k and I think exo mall is like *dammit math* 140k or something that has significantly gotten out of hand. I have two more fics so it will probably be like 180ish when it’s done?? not including the drabbles to come haha 

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

I loved No Quarter and torturing Kat with her husband, also staying up all night to finish Chanyeol’s exo mall knowing kat had NO idea it was coming was a BLAST. Kyungsoo’s exo mall was one of the most ‘in the flow’ writing experiences i’ve ever had. I wrote this Baek oneshot at like 3am when i couldn’t sleep once and tbh it felt like I wrote it in a dream. ja;slkfjasd I love so many of these this is like a trip down memory lane, so I’m going to be a wh*re and say two more haha.  This is the most honest and close to ‘real life’ thing I think I’ve written on here (and also one of the only sex scenes I didn’t lose my goddamned mind trying to write a;sldkfja;sdf). And lastly Ablaze, which was the longest thing I’d written (I think) and let me know that hey? maybe I could write a book someday <3

11. favorite request you’ve have written and why (if any?)

This request for Exo Mall Baek was such a joy to write! And for some reason this Taeyong drabble makes me wish I had the time/energy to write it into a full story, it gripped me so much when I wrote it, like a movie had fully downloaded into my brain out of nowhere.

12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

For sure! I’d say found family is a big one. Trusting that you’ll find your place even if things don’t make sense or you feel unsure. Believing that love is worth the risk and fear of trusting someone ;laksjdfal;sd. That love can be big gestures and super intense, but that after that fades away it’s the small daily moments that matter most - the people who stay and listen when you’re sad, holding hands and forehead kisses, taking care of people when they’re sick or scared or just need company, showing up to try again or to communicate even when things are hard. 

Someone commented on a fic of mine ages ago that I helped them see that real love (of that small, daily, consistent kind) is possible and MAYHAPS I cried because underneath it all, that’s what I’d want people to take away - that love of all kinds is scary, but it’s always worth it in the end <3

13. current number of wips?

Surprisingly just ... 3? wow how time has changed hahaha. I have Jun + Baek for exo mall (plus some drabbles but that will be something people write in about, so I wouldn’t consider them wips) and then I maaaaay continute on here with the Jun + Min regency baes series. We shall see :)

14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?

1. I can’t NOT write Baekhyun as the biggest cheesy dork in the entire world 2. That I’ll always have endless fantasy world to live in. I have to try actively to not start new WIPs because it’s so damn easy to be inspired. If I’m ever bored I know that I can jump into some story and let myself be carried away for a while 3. that who and how i am in real life is not usually the same person that i am when it comes to the vibe of my writing, and that that’s totally okay <3

15. a quote you like from a published story.

“I wish it had been with someone like you, though,” you say, squeezing his hand.

“Someone like me?” he says, raising his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

You look down at the floor, trying to figure out how to put how he makes you feel into words. “Yeah, someone strong, and steady. And safe.”

He lets out a laugh. “Safe? That sounds awfully similar to boring.”

“No, no. You don’t understand,” you say emphatically, coming to stand fully in front of him, grabbing his other hand as well. “You never ask me to be anything but who I am. You’re patient, kind, caring. For the longest time I thought that falling in love would be stifling. That it would… I don’t know, take my independence. Take my spirit. Make me into someone I don’t recognize.”

You step closer, holding his face in your hands. “But I can’t think of anything I want more than to be with you. You make me the best version of who I am. I don’t know how it is for you, being with me. But when I’m with you, it just feels like… home,” you finish gently.

- from Kyungsoo’s exo mall because THIS is how I feel about falling in love now, and this story was me working out what I believed about the process (like a goddamned emo bish haha)

16. a quote from an unpublished story.

For a moment you allow yourself this weakness. It won't destroy you to admire the strong lines of his body, the intensity and focus in the set of his brows, the deep, warm color brown of his eyes as they - oh lord, he's looking directly at you. As he notices you watching him his lips press into a small smile, inclining his head towards you.

'Oh no,' you say, mortified. In a breath you've blinked and drawn your arm through Maggie's, weaving your way through the crowd and dragging her with you.

'What's wrong?' she hisses in your ear, slightly off-kilter from the drink and revelry. 'You're going to tear my arm off.’.

'Sorry, he -' With a hand you push through the front doors, gulping in the cool night air and breathing deeply to steady the erratic pace of your heartbeat. 'Maggie, what's happening to me? He looked at me and I felt so... naked. I can't explain it.'

She realizes you aren't in actual distress and laughs. 'Good. About time you fell in love. I'm delighted.'

- From perhaps a future chapter of Jun and Min regency baes series....

17. space for you to say something to your readers.

Thank you so much. Truly, from the bottom of my heart. This fandom brought writing back into my life after such a long time away and I had no idea I would love it so much. The friends it’s brought me and the kind words that made me cry or cheered me up on a shitty day or made me laugh out loud and the watching other writers grow on their journeys. Getting to hear how something I made could help you feel less alone or less sad on a shitty day is all I’ve ever wanted from sharing all this. Thank you for being here and thank you for sharing parts of yourself with me <3

Tagging anyone who sees this who would like to do it, even if you don’t consider yourself a “real writer” yet (yes you are, stop doubting yourself!!!!) 😘