#but also i don't really know who the hell else to tag so anybody please go ahead and have fun with it if you want

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Hi, how you doing, luv? I saw your requests were open so here I am!

I told this idea to a friend and we liked it so much I needed to see it written, and I love how you write Arthur!

I don't usually request/like low honor Arthur but hear me out! Low honor Arthur with a female reader and he's user her as his alibi whenever he goes on a killing spree. But she happily applies, smiling at the officers when she gets questioned like "it ain't him officer. how do I know that, you say? he was with me the whole time🤭" while Arthur quietly cleans the blood splatters off his guns

Samy!! Here it is!! I really hope you'll like it😭 Also, hell yes, what an ask! Loved writing it. Makes me want to write more Low!Honor. And ngggh the best compliment ever telling me you love how I write him I can't

˖✧ Pretty lies

✦ Pairing: Low!Honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader  ✦ Warnings/Tags: Blood (obviously), guns, cursing, canon era speech, ending is suggestive. Therefore, MDNI, please! ✦ Words: 1,8k ✦ a/n: Okay so, this is my first attempt ever at a Low Honnor Arthur. I guess I just made him bolder, extra cocky+extra flirty? Hope it’ll fit! ALSO, as always, English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if anything sounds weird. Please if you notice any mistakes, reach up to me! ✦Credits. First pic is from Reddeadcomfort on Pinterest, gun pic from Pinterest too. Second one from my playthrough; blood stains and dividers by me.

Arthur’s violence wasn’t a secret to anyone. Not to anybody in camp, not to you, certainly not to himself. 

Not even to numerous people at this point, considering the large number of poor fellas who had the bad luck to cross him and ended up beaten to a pulp, covered in bruises, head in a drinking trough, riddled with bullets, or even worse.

But you loved him, no matter what. You knew about his flaws. Knew about his brutal, crude side. But around you, this heated aura was turning into something else entirely. And you liked it.

So, when a panting Arthur had rushed to you on the porch of Strawberry’s hotel, blood covering his entire self, face and hair included, blue eyes shining sapphires in a tide of rubies, you weren’t that surprised. You were even less when he asked you to be his alibi for whatever the Hell he just did, as he had taken the habit of doing lately. Lying for Arthur’s crimes could have looked like an immoral thing to do, but as a member of the gang too, you clearly weren’t a saint either.

And you really were enjoying this little game.

The subtle grin Arthur had every time you would lie in front of the police for him, asserting with absolute conviction you had been together all day. The rosy tone his cheeks, ears and neck were displaying when you felt bolder and added some details in your alibis. Details about fake, steamy nights or afternoons you were supposed to have shared, swearing to the Lord you had the unholiest of times together. Oh, the look he was giving you. Knowing, amused, dreamy and so, so proud and debauched. Lustful, even.

You were sure he was enjoying it too.

“Alright, I’ll cover for you again. But at least go take a bath, I can’t do miracles.” You ordered him, a devilish smile on your face. 

“Thank you, sugar.” Arthur quickly answered, his voice just a low, breathless mumbling, barely letting you distinguish his words.

He quickly entered the hotel and you heard the receptionist gasp from where you were. You chuckled to yourself, imagining his outraged face rapidly losing all its composure under Arthur’s hard gaze piercing through the layer of blood, ordering him to prepare a bath as gently as if he was doing a hold-up.

Poor man must have liquefied on the spot.

You leaned against the patio’s fence and breathed in the fresh late afternoon air of Strawberry, alpenglow golden and rosy on top of the mountains, a peaceful scenery under your eyes. Contrasting with the horror and brutality Arthur must have left in his trail.

He was quick to join you again, looking fresh and neat as if he were a completely normal gentleman. His messy hair and dirty beard long gone, a nice black shirt, shiny boots, and a scout jacket on, probably to match Strawberry people's clothes. 

The only things that hadn't benefited from a change were his eternal Gambler hat and his holster and revolvers, both still painted with blood stains, a red and morbid Appaloosa coat on shiny metal.

“Policemen won’t be too long to arrive. ‘Hid my face but they chased me down all the way from Flatneck Station.” He informed you, voice calmer and shoulders less tensed.

“What the Hell were you doing there?”

“Robbin’ a train.” He replied with a cocky grin, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“More like slaughterin’ a train, uh?”

“Smart mouth.” He retorted, amused by your remark. “Too many of ‘em bastards had irritated me.”

“And how much did you get exactly?”

“Seven hundred.” His smirk widened as he patted his satchel, which was probably full of stolen money.

“Damn, Arthur! All by yourself? You never cease to impress me.”

His eyes wrinkled in a genuine smile, a rare sight. He didn’t add anything, silence enveloping both of you, as often in his company. But you knew he had loved your praise. 

Arthur casually sat on one of the chairs behind you, legs open to be more comfortable, and took his guns out of his holster, as relaxed as if he had sat to draw in his journal.

He knew the Law had absolutely no proof against him, and that you were charming enough to lead them up the garden path as easily as if they were children. 

As he had planned, two terribly worn-out lawmen arrived, clothes soiled and face tired. It looked like they didn’t have the time to take a good bath contrary to your companion, probably interrogating the whole town before arriving here. One of them, the shorter of the two, climbed up the wooden stair treads and spoke.

“Sir, Missus. We’re searching for a dangerous criminal. He has been described by several witnesses as a tall man with broad shoulders, brown hair, blue eyes, and a black leathered hat…” His words slowed down and turned into a whisper at the end of his sentence, lost in the air, as his gaze landed on Arthur. His eyes narrowed realizing he matched the description perfectly.

“Oh, I’m really sorry, officer, we haven’t seen anyone like this…” You said with your most angelic smile, your body turning politely from the fence to face the policeman.

You were now standing right next to Arthur who didn’t look bothered at all. 

All the contrary, he had given a simple salute by nodding his head to the man, the tip of his hat shaking nonchalantly in his direction, and had begun cleaning his guns, blood visible like porcelain dipped in a vibrant red paint.

The officer frowned, clearly not convinced.

“You, where were you-

“Him? He was with me all day officer."

He does not believe you. Yet. You took his arched eyebrow as a personal invitation to give him a good show:

"To tell you the truth, we’re on our honeymoon here, so we took the time to enjoy our day together…”

While speaking, you put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, to emphasize your words, to look convincing. But you would have lied to yourself telling you weren’t appreciating this, fingers caressing his muscles through the thick jacket, traveling innocently to his neck where you brushed the base of his hair, just underneath his hat, pampering him as if he was a cat.

And Arthur? He had the biggest shit-eating grin you've ever seen on his face. He loved it, the pure audacity of it all, your teasing touch on the back of his head, his own hands busy with his guns, oil and piece of fabric wiping the fresh remnants from his killing spree of a few hours ago, in the most carefree way possible, all of it under the Law’s nose.

A rush of adrenaline spread through him, tingling and warming his body. He tried to fight his own blood from gathering more and more between his legs, but after all, looking all giddy would just make it all more convincing, right?

“But this man really looks like…” The policeman tried to object, before being cut by you once again.

“Officer, I assure you we was here all day…” You asserted, honeyed voice soft to the ears, eyes as innocent as a dove.

“Oh, except for this morning though, we was out. We tried this really special spot, you know? The one in the mountains, where you can bathe in these hot springs… We had a good time there, didn’t we, honey?” You fibbed with perfection, adding even more details to your tapestry of lies.

The hand you had on Arthur slowly pushed his head against your chest, his face ending up cheek against your cleavage. His devilish smirk almost cracked from widening, and the tip of his ears got all red and hot. You could feel it against your skin, both of you relishing in your juvenile, corny lovers play.

Inside, he felt like he was on top of the World right now.

“Yes baby, ‘t was definitely a good time…” Arthur agreed, playful eyes adverting from his revolvers to look at yours from down there, his slightly crooked teeth visible through his gigantic grin.

“A-arlight, I erm…” The lawman coughed, visibly uncomfortable because of your behavior and finally convinced by your pretty little speech. “I’ll leave you to… To "it" then. Good evening Sir, Ma’am.”

He walked back to his colleague who had smoked a cigarette while waiting for him. Arthur and you kept on playing your naive role until both of them were far enough, the last echo of their conversation sounding exceedingly comical into your ears:

“Shit, we lost this asshole…”

 “Told you this couldn’t be him. Who would be stupid enough to strut around right next to the sheriff’s office?”

Yeah, who would be, uh?

You giggled a bit, eyes still locked on the stupid man in question. He hadn’t stopped smiling the whole time, a low chuckle shaking his chest, joining yours.

“This was a close one. You’re getting more and more reckless…” You warned him gently, hand still wrapped around his head.

“But you, on the other hand, are a brilliant actor, darlin’.” He added, his deep voice showing a hint of amusement and mischief. “And you're getting bolder too. A honeymoon, really?”

“The damn bastard wouldn't let it go…” You shrugged with an innocent smile.

It looks like he was comfortable like this because he wasn’t making any effort to pull away from your soft flesh. All the contrary, a sneaky arm curled up around your waist, pushing you onto his lap, his guns and the piece of fabric ending up on top of your thighs.

“Ya know, alibis are fun an’ all but… Maybe we could have a good time for real, sometimes.” He whispered in your ear, big hands handling you gently, one resting on your legs, the other holding your back.

“Yeah? You tired of lying, Arthur?”

“Am tired of doin’ nothin’ while havin’ the most gorgeous woman in town pretendin’ to be my wife…” His thumb slowly strokes your thighs while answering in a low, passionate tone.

This wasn’t just pretty lies anymore. His voice wasn’t joking, it was filled with desire; his hands warm and demanding on your body.

“Mmh… I see… Maybe we could actually book a room here for the night then…” You answered in the same quiet register, betraying your own needs.

One of your hands grabbed his guns, the other the blackened piece of fabric damped with oil, and you finished cleaning up his revolvers for him, fingers delicate and attentive.

His eyes are locked on your hands and their movement, completely hypnotized by them, his ears turning entirely red, this sanguine color spreading less and less subtly on his face and chest too.

You can't help but notice the hardness growing between his legs, pressing under your body. 

And he can't wait for the moment when this won’t be the barrel of his gun you'd be holding and caressing between your hands…

“Sounds pretty good to me, “Missus Morgan”.”

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

ok im not going to tag this but i need you guys to know that my endgame ships for eridan and karkat are

eridan ♦️ karkat

eridan ♥️ roxy

roxy ♦️ calliope

eridan ♠️ calliope

karkat ♥️ calliope

i call it "the polycule only a blood player could love" and although it manages to be perfectly healthy, from the outside, everyone looks like they're cheating on everyone else. nepeta is staring at it going ":33 < dodged a fucking bullet!!!"

Eridan ♦️ Karkat

the ship with the most canon backing. this ship needs to be true before all other ships can be true because it keeps the two of them normal enough to have a shot at romancing anybody else. nobody realized they were pale for each other for an embarrasingly long time because their regular day to day conversations feature slurs and death threats. sometimes looks pitch or flushed from the outside because karkat is a mess who can't stop yelling at people he's trying to romance in the red quads, and because eridan gets really needy sometimes.

Eridan ♥️ Roxy

They get together within five minutes of knowing each other and, despite Rose's protests, never ever break up. Eridan is into cute, pink, bubbly, nice girls, and Roxy is into eccentric troubled princes. Not to mention she fucking loves wizards, and Eridan is a wizard, and that they're both hipsters who use rifles. Also Eridan is weird as hell and Roxy thinks he's hilarious for it. Despite the fact that he puts on this unpleasant, nasty act, he'll pretty much do anything Roxy tells him to, and she likes that. She thinks he has himbo energy. Everyone else thinks she's deranged. Like girl that guy is an insane murderer. Girl he will not stop saying slurs

also their specific abilities are diametrically opposed in an interesting way? prince of hope = can destroy anything he believes he can destroy, rogue of void = can create anything by stealing away its nonexistence. neat!

Roxy ♦️ Calliope

since they aren't trolls and don't need to calm each other down, it's not really a proper moirallegiance, but they're bffffffs and the kinds of silly fun-loving gals who would call their friendship a moirallegiance even if it doesn't have the biological components or serve the social function of one. Two girls that just love each other.

Eridan ♠️ Calliope

biologically, cherubs only engage in pitch romances and are attracted to other cherubs that remind them of the other half they lost in predomination. what i'm saying is that calliope - unfortunately for her - has brother issues. initially put off by eridan's superficial similarities to caliborn - his bluster, his riflekind, his insane logic and thick skull, and how damn often he talks about murder - as they get to know each other, the feeling becomes mutual. eridan is generally totally ok with outright hostility, but calliope's faux-nice smugness when taunting an opponent would drive him nuts, as would the earnestness with which she approaches magic (what kind of POSER needs to RELOAD their WAND), and in general, i think he'd take her genuine well-wishes toward other people as a personal affront, a la "i didn't ever need anybody to look after me!"

they somehow have a 50/50 win ratio at the board games they play, which drives calliope nuts. "believing in your pieces" is not a valid chess strategy!!!!!!!!!

also i think it's fun and thematic, the angel killer and the cherub, whose adult form features hope-shaped wings.

Karkat ♥️ Calliope

We know two things from his crush on terezi: the first is that karkat is into clever, cunning gals, and the second is that he's really fucking messy, the kind of guy who would tell his flushed crush to "set the table on his bone bulge for their candle light hate date." Fortunately, or unfortunately??? for calliope, the fact that he will scream obscenities at her is kind of what she's into. everybody, please, a moment of silence for calliope, who somehow manages to have worse taste in men than roxy.

but yeah more seriously, karkat has a big and loving heart, and so does calliope, while calliope maintains a cleverness and intellect that karkat would be into.

normally, it would be a huge problem for your moirail to be pitch for your matesprit, and we have that both ways here. however, a few factors are mitigating that here. first, eridan will always prioritize karkat or roxy over calliope when they're around. this actually does kind of piss her off, although she feels annoyed that it does. second, calliope is generally mature enough to compartmentalize. third, karkat WILL auspicetize if they aren't careful, and nobody wants that. and fourth, everybody wants to keep roxy happy.

but yeah everyone else watching it is like. are you guys okay? blink if you need help

ofc ship what you want to ship this is not at all me telling you what you should be into. im just saying that these ships have been calculated for Maximum Funnyness, which as we know, is the only objective measure for what makes a good homestuck ship

[t1oui]

can I please get your thoughts on rosekiller raising Luna?? I've been obsessed with it lately and you've mentioned it before I want to know more about your headcannons!!!

AAAAAA OKAY im obsessed with them too but i think this has been established. just

first of all think canon luna but 10x more unhinged bc rosekiller are not doing her any favors in the "having morals" and "acting normal" departments (we love that for them)

BARTY CALLS LUNA PRINCESS. i am so... no i cant even lie and say im normal about this it's just a fact of life. he calls her princess and he treats her like one too.

they probably commit crimes or something (if you want more info on this search "criminal au" on my blog bc i have so many thoughts... there's also like 3 things under the tag "criminal au 2 electric boogaloo" lol)

this tag on one of my posts. it says a lot

back to what i said about luna being treated like a princess: does she dress weird? yes. but her clothes and necklaces and the radishes she makes earrings out of are TOP TIER QUALITY bc their girl deserves that.

the three of them wear friendship bracelets

what luna calls them depends on how she's feeling - sometimes she calls them uncle barty and uncle evan, sometimes papa and dad, sometimes just barty and evan

luna gets her offputting gaze from evan and it shows

somehow she's actually such a well-rounded child?? absolutely nobody expects this

rosekiller encourage luna's interests!!!

the three of them cuddle a lot, especially luna and barty.

luna gets all the hogwarts gossip and reports it back to barty via owl

barty 100% teaches luna to drive at age 10 (evan is sitting in the backseat hanging on for dear life)

barty teaches luna how to pickpocket and evan teaches her potions (he doesn't talk about pandora and reg that often, but he makes sure she's got their skill sets)

autistic luna getting a new pair of noise-cancelling headphones. barty and evan helping her cover them in stickers. barty asking to try them out. luna and evan getting him his own pair and covering them in stickers for him :))

(barty cries)

(he actually cries a lot bc "hey, it's okay to cry, luna. no, i'm not crying because of that card you just gave me, but the drawing was really nice and i'm going to cherish it forever")

(she sees right through him but she doesn't say so)

whoever luna ends up with gets a very serious shovel talk from barty and evan (evan does most of the talking, barty just sits there glaring at luna's partner).

ginny finds it funny as hell. anybody else is scared shitless. (this gets ginny a good rep with barty and evan.)

they're soooo soft for each other.

i'm a personal fan of luna and cho being friends and i have a feeling evan and barty would, inexplicably, love her.

barty and evan hate sirius. sirius hates them back. the order of the phoenix has an unspoken rule that the three of them are not allowed in a room together.

barty is italian and luna & ev both know italian for him, so they speak italian with each other a lot.

muggle au rosekiller raising luna!! they hold a special place in my heart. barty and evan run an italian restaurant together and luna is a waitress there. (so is harry.)

yk how snape treats harry like shit bc he hated james? yeah, barty and evan treat harry well bc regulus loved james. (also bc they don't take out their anger on children but mostly bc being mean to someone who reminds them of regulus would hurt too much.)

i swear i have more thoughts about them but i'm totally blanking right now so uhh... feel free to send more asks and i will reply when i have thoughts !! thanks for the ask :)

[cringefaecompilation]

I know it wasn't the focus of your misogyny post so if I'm overstepping please ignore me, but it also really makes me mad when people "conveniently forget" that Ashton is nonbinary, especially when it justifies their shitty opinions (ie he's One Of The Boys™ so he's always correct and can do no wrong thanks to his male-based intellect unlike the awful evil women or he's an Evil Manipulative Man™ who's going out of his way to use his male-ness to harm these poor innocent helpless women because he said/did anything negative towards them). Like please y'all, they're not a man PLEASE they said their pronouns IN THE FIRST EPISODE PLEASE. Feel free to like/dislike Ashton all you want cause that's perfectly fair, but for the love of god don't be transphobic (especially to be sexist) when you do it??? Is that too much to ask??? Idk if I'm making sense/getting upset at nothing because I've seen a lot of people dismiss this as being silly or getting mad at nothing, but idk as a masc enby a lot of discussions around Ashton feel so gross? Idk though, once again ignore if I'm overstepping or anything

you are not being silly and you are not getting mad at nothing or overstepping. it's a huge problem.

i've seen way more of the former where he is misgendered as a cis male as a positive trait, so i'll be talking more about that. will be reposting my tags about this trend in fandom because i've already said my piece on it.

ashton is "schrodinger's man" to these people when they're bored with ignoring/erasing orym's respect and care towards the women in his life. they're nonbinary and trans when they're being directly defended against fans who only like the women, and they're a cis male who is a victim of violent misandry when complaining about previous drama or shipping laudmo/ore (willing to give the benefit of the doubt that maybe some of that blending is them including cis male actor taliesin jaffe but then again). the idea that shardgate was Feminism Going Too Far is an actual statement that i've seen going around the fandom, and it's gotten worse now with swordgate.

didja know there are people insisting laudna should have been abandoned by the hells or fearne should have gotten "harsher punishment" when her dad nearly killed her because both women did something selfish/impulsive and ashton was yelled at and punished for doing something selfish/impulsive? the They Only Were Upset With Ashton Because He Is A Man argument is so fucking dumb. bro almost nuked himself without telling anybody else and was the only one not forcing the shard down fearne's throat, of course they'd come to blows. and you wanna know why they didn't scream at fearne or laudna? BECAUSE THEY LEARNED TO NOT DO THAT. THEY HAD A THERAPY SESSION SPECIFICALLY TO AVOID DOING THAT SHIT AGAIN

and it really does make it obnoxious because i like him and orym's dynamic but it's so fucking frustrating seeing people make them into bell's hells leaders and Voices Of Reason just so they can say "orym is always correct because dead husband and imogen is a salty selfish bitch" or "ashton is always correct because tough love & street smarts and imogen is just a salty selfish bitch" that it immediately sets off red flags for me if someone says those guys are their favorite bh characters. and it sucks because i love orym and ashton too!

obligatory "both sides though" mention: yes. there are im/odna shippers that fantasize about "punishing" or murdering ashton. they do that to dorian and orym too. i am aware of them and i have seen them. i have 90% of them blocked lmao

and i have also talked about this before but the amount of people i've seen insisting callowm/oore is a bad homophobic cishet ship that erases fearne's pansexuality is BIZARRE. this argument was used to prop up fearn/iture which makes no fucking sense to me since chetney is, as far as we know, cisgender. we might not know ashton's sexuality proper but it's safe to assume they aren't heterosexual as they've flirted with people of many genders. also there was this genuine debate if as/hrym was a homophobic ship because orym only dates men... and. well. i don't think it'd be the same as shipping keyleth with orym, let's put it that way lol

[sebsxphia]

Sebbie I just had the WEIRDEST thought ever that I wanted to share with you and when I say it's weird, I mean it's WEIRD.

You, Rhett and Amy have just bought a new house in a tiny little town well away from Wabang, in order to protect Amy from Perry (you and Rhett took her from birth and adopted her as your own, but Perry was such an asshole to the point where Royal told you guys that moving would be the best option while he dealt with Perry). You and Rhett are doing really well for yourselves, opening up a little general store while Rhett is also an assistant pastor at the local church who helps counsel alot of high school kids, people that have special needs and disabled veterans etc.

It's not long before some strange events begin to unfold. The original pastor of the church decides to retire and leave the parish to Rhett while one day, a family friend shows up to your house with two Dalmatians, a male and a female and it's very, very plain that these two are more than what they seem. They literally will not let Amy out of their sight or you, no matter where you go and they insist on sleeping in your room.

It's not long after their arrival that some really, really weird things begin happening. Rhett's not much of a skeptic, but when Amy starts having some really, really intense nightmares and starts seeing and hearing things at night, all doubts go out the window pretty quickly. The two dogs start growling and barking at night, always after the midnight hour and it's not long before you and Rhett start seeing and hearing things. For a while, the activity isn't as intense, but one night, Rhett sees something trying to go after Amy, but it flees the minute Pongo, the male Dalmatian, starts barking and growling.

The activity seriously begins picking up in the house, but Rhett doesn't let anybody else in the congregation know. Outwardly, he's still the same pastor they know and love, listening to him deliver one hell of a sermon, but towards the back, his old mentor and the former pastor, can clearly see in Rhett's face that something is going on.

You and Rhett both decide to do your own research on the house and learn that you're not the first people that have been haunted. Six other couples who had bought the place in the house hadn't stayed long either due to the activity. It even gets to the point where you and Rhett purchase a pair of tags for the dogs in the shape of a Celtic cross.

Rhett knows he has to do something and quick in order to ensure that you and Amy are protected. He works with Jim, the church's old pastor as well as two other people who are really renowned spirit healers, in order to cleanse the house. He has you and Amy stay with a family friend but the dogs will not leave his side through the whole thing. As Rhett, Jim and the others cleanse the house and it gets more intense, Rhett suddenly finds himself having a vision of two figures, a male and a female, in full black and yellow firefighter gear with a huge, glowing white light behind them and it's only then that he realizes that the two human figures are none other than your dogs, Pongo and Perdita.

Even though the house is clean and there hasn't been any activity in months, you and Rhett are definitely not comfortable staying there anymore and you move to your big timberframe that was being built in the more rural part of town. Rhett has a talk with Jim about what he had seen and the pastor doesn't doubt him one little bit. He says, to slightly quote Luna Lovegood, "You know Rhett? It's funny......often the things we've forgotten, find their way back to us in some form or another, even if it's in a way we don't expect."

Sebbie, I apologize, I was gonna save this for when Spooky Season rolls around again, but I couldn't help myself (lol).

OOOOOOHH I LOVE THISSS! and please don’t worry either my love! spooky season or not, i love spooky stuff like this all year round 🤭 i loved the end line too! thank you so much for sending this to me my love! 🥹💌

[lochnesswriter]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks to @mayalaen for tagging me! (way too long ago lol)

First, my AO3

How many works do you have on AO3?

65

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

218,144

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Leverage, White Collar, 9-1-1 Lone Star, 9-1-1, MCU, Political Animals, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG1, Supernatural

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ice Cream and Therapy, First Dance, An Unexpected Party, Tales of Batman: Interlude I and The First Time

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, but sometimes I get miserably behind and then have to catch up all at once. But I cherish every one and I do enjoy interacting with readers

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Um, I'm not much for angst, but I guess Stay With Me. It's SPN/Leverage, and deals with Dean's demon deal

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Never Sees It Coming (Stargate Atlantis)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really, which I appreciate.

9. Do you write smut?

Not at all. I write a lot of spankings though, so different kink

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I love writing crossovers, and most of my fics have at least two fandoms involved. That said, the craziest one is absolutely Curse You, Steve the Seal, which is a crack drabble crossing Hawaii Five-0 with Phineas and Ferb (last time I ever ask for a fanfic prompt from someone who doesn't actually read/write fanfics.) But a close second would be Merry Christmas to All, and to All a Sore Butt, which I just finished. Leverage/White Collar/9-1-1/9-1-1 Lone Star, and an AU of two of my preexisting AUs. That was a wild ride.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Don't think so, though that would be cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not fanfic, no. I do have one series posted with a co-creator, but I am still waiting for said co-creator to actually co-create something instead of just throwing more prompts at me lol

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Not sure? I have ships I like, ships I don't like, but I don't know. Favorite to watch is probably Tarlos and Malec (helps that they're canon lol). Favorites to write would be Eliot/Quinn/Neal and John/Evan/Cam ( I love the polyamory lol)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Um. All the ones that I'm spending thought on, I probably will manage to finish? Otherwise I probably don't care about them enough at the moment to notice if I don't?

16. What are your writing strengths?

I love dialogue. It's so fun to just see what the hell the characters are gonna say/do next

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description and action. I can't actually picture anything in my head, so I find myself baffled that people might actually care about what the setting looks like/what's going on

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I won't do it, because I don't speak another language well enough and I don't trust Google translate, but if need be I'll probably pull a "she said in this language." When people do put other languages in dialogue I get frustrated that I can't read it, but I also understand that that's what it's like for the characters, too, so fair enough

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural and Leverage (so many crossovers you guys)

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I don't even know, I love all of them. At the moment, though, I've got a fondness for both Goodnight Moon and the follow-up Goodnight Nobody. They're Bucky-TJ fics that are just kinda cute and feelsy.

tagging (with no pressure or obligation): @actualalligator @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @trivalentlinks @friendly-chaos @snowviolettwhite and anybody else who wants to play! Please tag me so I can see your stuff 💜

[holocene-sims]

15 oc questions!

i was tagged by @stargazer-sims - thank you so much!! ❤️ i've never done one of these tags in a character's voice, so it's fun to get extra practice writing as them 😊

i'll tag:

@dandylion240 @bl-sims-anime @idyllicephemera @elderwisp @nectar-cellar @minty-plumbob @crazykissim @mangosimoothie & anyone else who wants to do it!

ANYWAY i'm doing this for grant! idc if y'all have heard enough about grant, the honor goes to him

are you named after anybody?

my actual legal first name is joseph, which is my grandfather's name! so, uh, somehow yes, i am named after somebody! but i'm 99.9% sure it was out of laziness and not out of love. well, no, i'm 100% sure of that. it's not like my mom has ever respected her parents...but that's a whole different thing, we're not going there.

when was the last time you cried?

i'm a crybaby, come on! i'm known for being very emotional. i mean, sad animal commercials make me weepy. externally weepy. like tears running down my cheeks weepy. but the actual last time i cried? hmm, maybe like a week ago? i don't know if i could tell you why, though. i probably blocked it out of my memory! i'm great at that.

do you have kids?

do, uh, do cats count? because i do have a cat who i love and put sweaters on. sweaters! and he loves it.

do you use sarcasm?

it depends? sarcasm usually feels mean-spirited to me, so i'm not super into it, but then again, that's half the conversations i have with my family. i know in that case, though, that it's all bullshit humor and not serious. anyway, i think what i'm saying in a roundabout way is it depends a lot on context and audience. i don't want to hurt anyone's feelings or be a dick. i like being nice.

what's the first thing you notice about people?

okay, listen, in the most normal and not at all weird way possible, people's hairlines are always what i see first. i've been the first witness to so, so many fake blondes accidentally showing their dark roots or to dudes going bald. i'm sorry! i'm just freakishly tall! i can't not look down at all your heads unless i'm kneeling down on the ground. i'm not trying to spy on or judge the state of your hair, i promise.

what's your eye color?

brown! justice for brown eyes, the best eye color. i love being able to go out in the sun and not have my eyeballs bleached by the light. also, there's really not that many brown eyes in my family, so that's kind of fun. i'm a special boy.

scary movies or happy endings?

why not both? i love a good blair witch project, final destination moment. i also love a nice mushy gushy romantic movie with a happy ending. hell, i'd watch both in the same evening. start off with a fucked up horror movie and end it with pride and prejudice. sounds like a perfect night to me.

any special talents?

probably not anything relevant? i mean, i've played skyrim on survival mode without dying before. oh, and i guess back when i was still playing hockey, uh, a decade ago, i could score with the michigan goal pretty easily, which isn't all that common. in high school, i got my school the state championship win with that skill. but meh, i don't know how many people in the world know enough about hockey to care about that.

where were you born?

michigan! the part everyone forgets about, aka the upper peninsula, aka diet canada.

what are your hobbies?

i like to think i'm a well rounded person. i enjoy the super basic stuff like listening to music, but i'm also into into video games and tabletop RPGs like d&d. cooking and baking are fun for me, too. i did get into art semi-recently as well. i kind of had to have something i could do while laying down, like, 24/7 after i had spinal surgery.

if you're ever bored, just go fuck up your spine. you'll have SO much time on your hands to get new hobbies. actually, don't. please don't. i've been suffering for years and will continue to. i'm dying. don't be me. pretty please. pinky promise.

oh, duh, i also forgot that i'm into astronomy and um, planes. look, i'm not a car guy, i'm a plane guy. that's more fun, right?

have you any pets?

he's a cat named turtle, so, like, you know, the best cat in the world. sometimes i think about getting him a cat friend to hang out with but then i worry he'd get jealous, so i haven't done it. who am i to say whether or not he wants to live with a friend? or a sibling? being alone is so valid. i respect that.

what sports do you play/have you played?

oh, well, like i said, i played hockey for a really long time, like from, hmm, i think kindergarten and on! i even got a scholarship in college to play hockey. i'm glad to be done, though. some things ruined it for me. long story. but these days, uhh, i don't play any real sports anymore. i like hiking, you know, and i do work out at least every other day because it makes me feel better in a lot of ways, but that's kind of it. my sports days are over. i don't even skateboard anymore and i used to do that all the time.

how tall are you?

like 6'7" - though, i am rounding down a little bit. yes, down. not up. also, don't ask me how i ended up that tall. i have exactly one relative who is also tall. hi, chelsea! anyway, i am an accident or one hell of a joke. i'm laughing, i swear. it's very funny.

favorite subject in school?

i was overall a good student because i studied pretty hard but i was for sure a science and math kid. i loved physics in high school. and then in college, i got some way more fun science and math classes. just so you know, i am really holding back right now from rambling like a total nerd loser about my college classes...

but i mean, if you wanna learn about, i don't know, quantum mechanics or flight control systems, hit me up.

dream job?

that's such an easy question! when i was really, really young, i wanted to be a weather man, but then i changed my mind and wanted to be a pilot because, i don't know, i hit that time in every child's life where they have to become obsessed with a form of transportation. but then i never let that obsession go. my parents wanted me to be a doctor the whole time, though, but eww, no, i'm good. anyway, the dream of flying planes never died and somehow it worked out. now if i could just, uh, you know, go back to that job soon, that'd be sick.

[crimeronan]

shoutout to this post i made almost three years ago. i wish i could go back in time and tell my slightly-younger self what a Time we were about to have. scrolling through the early days of my autoimmune tag is wild because past me is oversharing about my diagnoses and the fact that i might be dying and the fact that i keep finding eulogies instead of support groups when i look for community online, but i am...... not sick yet.

like. i definitely Think i'm sick, at the time. i am definitely tired and fevered and feel like shit, i'm using organ transplant reject drugs and having biopsies done and doctor's faces keep going gray when they see my skin and pharmacists keep giving me Terrible Pitying Looks when i fill my new scripts,

but i am not sick yet.

we have not yet explored the true event horizon of what it means to be sick. i am sick like most chronically fatigued spoonies online but.... i am going to learn a Lot more about how sick a body can really get.

anyway. i wish i could tell my slightly-younger self that we're about to lose the Entirety of our mid-twenties to illness. and we'll come out the other side blinking and confused and stumbling like a newborn lamb, feeling like we just went through a dark subway tunnel that folded us from one shore to the other, there's a void in the middle that's only accessible through the posts somebody made for all those years. someone made those posts with our hands. we sure don't remember them, though!

we won't feel any different than we did at 24 not just because we were inside for years due to a pandemic, but also because our brain was shutting down. we'll also feel like an entirely separate person from the 24-year-old self who didn't know yet what being sick was.

wish i could tell my slightly-younger self that now, as of writing this, when we're nearly 28, we'll be on the highest possible therapeutic dose of hydroxychloroquine, and that as long as we escape any rare medical complications from that, we'll be taking it for the rest of our life. wish i could tell them we're about to sacrifice three full years for the chance to live a whole, self-actualized life at the other end of hell.

wish i could tell her things are going to get way way way worse and then they're going to get a lot better. knocking on wood about it of course because there's always the chance of climate catastrophe or natural disasters or new illnesses or other calamities interfering with life plans. but if i don't jinx myself, i could tell her we've got the rest of 28 and 29 and then our 30s and 40s and beyond to be awake and happy and alive. we are still Young. losing a handful of years and having strange new lines around our eyes doesn't change that.

dunno what else to say here. i found this post a few weeks back in the "related posts" suggestions when looking at my own blog and it made me laugh aloud bc i was like. oh honey. ohhh honey. you don't even Know yet. you are going to be so different in three years and you're also going to be exactly the same.

i guess the conclusion here is that i can't tell my three-years-ago self what's coming but i can tell the chronically ill ppl following me: please for the love of GOD pursue diagnosis and treatment for your weird physical bullshit. sorry i know it sucks and hurts and is bad i know. doctors and the healthcare system are a nightmare to navigate, especially now w/ the medical sector collapsing in the wake of post-COVID problems, but you never know when your baseline of "i feel sick" is going to deteriorate Beyond Reckoning.

be kind to your future self. be kind to your past self. i don't want anybody else to learn what this kind of sickness feels like if they can avoid it.

anyone else ever have that chronic illness feel of like. yes i know people can get sick at any time and there are plenty of diseases you’re more likely to get if you’re UNDER 40 and many many many of the people in my social circle have chronic illnesses while being around my age but also. bro i am 24 come on

[prairiemule]

People I want to get to know better

Tagged by @greenstudies (much obliged)

Last song: Starlight Brigade - TWRP

Last show: Stranger Things, wasn’t a huge fan of that new season ):

Currently watching: A nature documentary I can’t remember the name of, but it’s pretty to look at

Currently reading: Uhhh fics I guess. And my own writing when I’m proofing it lol

I’ll tag @daredussy and @my-funky-little-cowboy, and also anybody else who wants to do this

[xpeachesncream]

bands | thirteen

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.9k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, slight degradation, trouble stirring behind the scenes if you squint, yeonjun and soobin (txt) make an appearance but also as reg 18 yr olds lol

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme​ @min-nicoleee​ @eggbutnotyolk​ @ra-mun-e @miinoongi​ @jimidol​ @ppeachyttae​ @thebeebi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @kooafraid​ @liriaus​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @ggukkieland​ @preciouschimine​ @sunniejinnie​ @cypheruby​ @cyb3rbab3​ @masterlists101​ @awhnamjoon​ @redhedhoseok​ @wooya1224​ @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos​ @un2-verse​ @aynsx​ @wearenot7withu​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"BTS' Jeon Jungkook rumored to be dating stripper from nightclub!"

"Jungkook is no longer single, ladies!"

"Jeon Jungkook is dating a stripper? Why the hell is he doing that?"

"Who the hell does she think she is? I bet she's not even pretty."

"Jungkook fell for a stripper? Out of all people? Damn, and I thought he was better than that."

Jungkook has been tired, the rumors constantly being spread day in and day out. But, it still didn't mean he was gonna say shit to prove himself to people out there. He didn't need to give anybody answers. Hell, this was strictly between you and him and that's how he wants to keep it.

Fuck every single one of you who didn't wanna be behind him and support him. Don't even think about calling yourself a fan of his if that's your mindset.

He could truly care less. He was happy and he felt ten times better than he has in a really long time. It's unfortunate how people love to stay narrow minded. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that it was so unfair for you - how they stuck to that stripper image, rather than really getting to know you beneath the surface.

But it's not like anyone else deserved to know the real you, not after all this shit. And he was gonna keep it that way, and protect you.

"Hey, don't listen to any of that shit, okay?" Jungkook says as he meets you in your car in the BigHit building garage. "None of that matters to me."

"I know, but Kook." You look at him. "Your career, BigHit literally might not even want me here and-and—"

"Then I'll make sure they understand it's not an issue, because it's really fucking not." He says, getting irritated only at the thought of the company giving him issues over you. He watches as you slightly frown, causing him to sigh and soften his own facial expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get worked up like that. It's just annoying how people are narrow-minded. This has absolutely nothing to do with you." You give him a small smile. "Come on, I'll walk you." You silently nod and hop out of your car. You follow beside him, your stomach in knots having to meet with their performance director. This meant you'd also most likely run into the rest of Bangtan.

In which happens to turn true pretty quickly.

"Jungkookie!" Hoseok says loudly down the hallway as he approaches the both of you. He does nothing besides smile, curiosity definitely filling his eyes.

"This is Y/N. Y/N, Hoseok hyung." He holds out his hand for you to shake, his head tilting ever so slightly because you know he's familiar with your face. He's just trying to remember from where. Or, he has recognized you, but he's trying his hardest not to say anything.

Cause they have seen all of you, especially in that fishnet bodysuit.

"Hi! Nice to meet you! You can call me Hobi for short. Are you meeting with someone?" You nod.

"Yeah." Is all you can reply with as you shyly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Nice, goodluck!"

"Is everyone else here?" Jungkook asks, making Hobi nod.

"Yeah, but they're still running through some stuff in the dance studio. I just ran off to take a break."

"Okay." Jungkook looks at you. "Follow me, he's in one of the private studio rooms." You both part ways from Hoseok, the need to clutch onto Jungkook's arm immensely strong right now. You hold yourself off though, because even with passing a few female staff members, you catch them looking at you oddly with the way you're walking side by side with Jungkook.

Nope. Don't even think about it, Y/N. It doesn't matter.

Jungkook knocks softly on a door, the middle of it being made up of entirely frosted glass so it's difficult to see inside. Their performance director opens the door swiftly and welcomes you in with a warm smile, stepping aside to let you in.

"I've got it from here, Jungkookie. Thank you." Jungkook nods but tries to peek through the door to get one last glimpse of your face before he shuts it fully. "How are you doing, Y/N?" He sits in front of you, leaning onto his knees with his hands fully clasped together.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Good, tired." He chuckles. "Thanks for taking my call earlier and for meeting at such short notice on a weekend. I had a couple of things come up and didn't want to push things off until later." You smile.

"It's no problem."

"Jungkook tells me a lot about you."

"Does he now?" You chuckle and tilt your head to the side.

"Says you're a really good person. Super hardworking. Told me a little bit about your situation with your brother."

"Mmyeah, it's a little complicated."

"It's alright, no need to get into the details." He smiles before letting out a small sigh. "It's incredibly rare for me to hear Jungkook speak like that. In general. He's usually very closed off, doesn't like to let people in much. He really respects you, you know? Cares about you a whole lot." You slightly blush.

"I'm still getting used to it." He chuckled.

"Look, I know you've been worrying because of where you've been and all that, but I want to reassure you that none of it matters. I don't like to focus on all that. You're here as you, not her." He says, putting another pronoun to your stripper persona.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." He nods. There's a small pause before he begins to speak again.

"I could really use some help around here if you're still interested? The boys are becoming a lot for me to handle."

"Ah-uh, yeah! Of course I am." You found yourself stuttering at the sudden offer. Was this fucking real?! "But, you are aware of where me and Jungkook are at, right?" You ask, trying to be completely transparent and honest about their relationship. He nods and waves his hand out.

"As long as you keep it professional here, right?" You nod.

"Right."

"Come, let me show you around really quickly and have you formally meet the boys." You swallowed the lump in your throat. Fucking great. He definitely didn't know they've all seen your titties and pussy out during Yoongi's birthday, and now here you were - about to meet them again in this environment. Hobi was awkward enough even though he tried not to be.

Surprisingly, Jungkook wasn't waiting outside in the hallway like you thought he would be, but the tour commences and the PD is taking you around pretty quickly. You feel even more awkward and somewhat alone [even though you weren't] without Jungkook nearby, but you chug along and say your hello's to the people you're introduced to. He finally brings you into the dance studio, where there's loud ass music blasting, Jungkook, the boys and some backup dancers in front of the mirrors fooling around.

"Aye boys, come here real quick." You and Jimin lock eyes and your body suddenly gets tense. The room feels 10x hotter than it already is, especially when he slowly walks over and clenches his jaw. He is literally seeping with hate right now, maybe actually disgust, and he doesn't even try to hide it. Most of them for sure recognize you, but they seem to brush it off and give you a big wave/smile anyway.

"Last, that's Jimin - Jimin, Y/N." You give Jimin a fake smile, and the only thing his ass can reciprocate is the smallest, tight-lipped smile you have ever seen. You've never even seen your mom do that when she got mad or upset with you.

"Hi." Is all you can say.

"Sup." He looks at you before turning on his heel and walking away.

"Ooookay?" Namjoon furrows his brows as he watches Jimin walk away so rudely. "The hell was that about?"

"I knew that was Kookie's girlfriend! Maybe Jiminie remembers seeing her titties and shit too, needs to walk away before he gets his ass beat by him." Yoongi says lowly behind Namjoon.

"Yeah, like you're any better." Namjoon says, looking at Yoongi weirdly.

"I mean, we did see her practically naked." Jin says, chiming into the discussion.

"I touched her." Yoongi's mouth slightly hangs down. "I touched her."

"Go ahead, say it louder so Kookie can hear you." Jin nods sarcastically. "Go, say it!"

"No, stop." Yoongi's cheeks turn red while shaking his head and laughing. "He'll literally launch me out the window with one hand."

"Good."

"You asked for her to sit on your lap too, bro!"

"I was joking, and it's not like she did it anyway!"

"Whatever, I'm keeping my birthday deep in my memory storage."

"Clean slate for her so it should be for you too, my guy." Namjoon says as he has enough of their conversation.

You look at Jungkook who is silently standing there, looking like a big dork with a huge smile on his face and his thumbs up. You give him the tiniest nod before proceeding to follow the PD out.

"So?!" Jungkook dashes to meet you in their waiting room area, where an abnormally large picture of Jimin posing oddly hung up.

"He said he'll send me all the info and papers and stuff!" You respond excitedly as Kook hugs you and quickly swings you around.

"See, I knew it would work out!" He puts you down. "Are you gonna tell Kai?" You shook your head.

"Not today at least, it's his birthday and I don't wanna take away from that. It's his day." Jungkook smiles at you.

"Text me when you've picked him up? I should be home by then."

"Okay." You blush and back away, making Jungkook look at you with confusion. "I have to keep it professional here, duh."

"Ah I see." He chuckles. "That won't last very long."

"Jungkook." You whine.

"There's a lot of private rooms here and—"

"I'm not listening, sorry. I think Kai is suddenly calling me." You cover your ears as you begin to walk away, giving him one last smile before leaving him to the rest of rehearsals and whatever else they're doing. He laughs to himself as he waves you off, excited to get through the day so he can just spend time with you and Kai.

As the hours go on and it's about time for you to pick Kai up, you quickly stop by the store because you're a procrastinator and didn't buy Kai's birthday gift any earlier. You felt bad you weren't able to find the shoes he wanted, but you at least snagged the video game he had been talking about for a couple of days now. Before walking into the arcade, you made sure to write your birthday card and slip some more money into it before shoving it in your bag to give to him later.

"Your pretty sister is here." Yeonjun grabs Kai by the shoulder as he finishes up a game.

"Yeah, and you're too young for her."

"Age is nothing but a number. It's only like.. 6 years apart."

"Besides, she's taken, dude. Sorry." Kai snorts as he watches Yeonjun's smile fade. "You would have never had the chance."

"You're mean."

"I'm mean, or you just have really high, unrealistic expectations?" The rest of their friends laugh as they follow Kai over to you.

"Hey!" You smile at all his friends.

"Hiiiiii Y/N." They all say in unison, some waving in awe, while the others shyly dug their hands into their pockets. "Birthday boy, you all good to go? Got some good Loco Moco waiting for you."

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Happy birthday again, Kai! Get online later!" Soobin yells out.

"Yeah, yeah." He says, waving them off as he follows you out to your car.

"You guys run through the entire arcade?" Kai laughs.

"Pretty much." He sinks into his seat, legs damn near touching the glove compartment with how long he is. "I'm honestly so excited for Loco Moco. It's been years!"

"It has not been that long." You laughed.

"You're right, it's been months." Kai looks out the window. "Wait, you're passing the road to get to our go-to shop though?"

"Cause I found a better place."

"How is there a better place when that one was already supreme?!"

"Hey, trust me on this okay?" You laugh. Kai starts telling you about his day and how so many people he knew from school had been messaging him happy birthday. He truly looked his happiest today and it was all you could ask for. Though at the same time, your heart slightly sank at the fact that he'd be going off to uni soon and staying at the dorms. He was just growing up way too fast, and you wanted to spend as much time as you could with him now before he was too occupied being a college boy.

You slipped yourself past Jungkook's security, parking in the one guest spot they have in the garage that's closest to the elevator. Kai doesn't really question it and hops out anyway, his hands in his pockets as he follows you into the elevator and onto Jungkook's floor.

"You ready, kid?"

"Is this some like, Michelin Star Loco Moco restaurant?"

"Ah, I guess you could say that." You knocked on the door, hearing music playing in the background. Jungkook opens the door and Kai's eyes widen.

"Oh shit, that's Jungkook?" Kook laughs and steps aside to let you both in. "Sis why—what—how come you didn't tell me we were seeing your boyfriend? I look like a mess!" He says lowly.

"You don't!"

"Hey Kai! Happy Birthday!" Jungkook says smiling, making Kai actually blush. He's cheeks are tinted with a rosy color and he suddenly gets all shy.

"Thanks."

"Your brother's tall." Jungkook looks at him up and down.

"Looking at an 18 year old 6 footer."

"Must be nice."

"Go sit." Kai silently nods as he sits awkwardly on Kook's couch, while you go and check in on him in the kitchen.

"Is he always that shy?"

"No. Just with you, apparently. He's not even that shy around girls." You chuckle as he places a quick kiss on your head. "Need my help?" You still ask even though the plates are neatly prepared already.

"Not really." He smiles down at you. "You hungry though?"

"Starving, actually." Your eyes light up at the plates. "Ouuuuuu, yum."

"Honestly, I think this batch might be better than my first."

"Still honored to be your guinea pig." You carry a plate over to Jungkook's coffee table in the living room.

"Oh shit, that looks amazing." Kai says, slipping himself down from the couch to the floor so he could get a good whiff of the plate. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jungkook hands you the remote before walking into his room. "Pick something."

"Here, birthday boy. Help me choose."

"Let's watch Soul on Disney+." At this point, Jungkook comes out of his room with a wrapped present, his eyes locked on the TV.

"Ooh, I keep seeing this everywhere! Niceeeee." Jungkook says, smiling with Kai nodding and already digging into his plate. "By the way, this is for you." You shoot him a look as he sits on the floor by you, watching as Kai unwraps the present. Kai's eyes light up as he sees a shoebox underneath the wrapping, quickly flipping the lid open to reveal those blue Air Jordans he wanted.

"Kook?!" You say lowly, making him smile at you and gently pinch your side.

"Holy shit!" He holds out a shoe, only for him to immediately shake his head and close the box again. "Jungkook, I can't take this." Kai says.

"No, it's your birthday."

"Yeah, but isn't this expensive? You've already done so much for me and my sister, I-I don't want to—"

"Kai, it's cool. If it's one thing you can do to repay me, it's to take my present." You literally want to cry at how sweet Jungkook is being with your brother. He had been good to you, no doubt, but this was one thing you didn't expect from him at all. Quite frankly, you had forgotten you mentioned the shoes to him. The fact that he actually remembered and kept his word.

"Okay." Kai says, gently setting the box down aside before looking at Jungkook with a small smile on his face. "Thank you. I really appreciate it. Like, even with the food and everything. It means a lot to me."

"You're welcome." You give him a soft smile before digging into your food while Soul was already off to a start. Kai and Jungkook devour their food together, with you following shortly behind as Jungkook brings over a small ice cream cake from his fridge for Kai to blow his candles on. After the boys had helped themselves to a good serving of the cake, they started getting hyper and pulled up Smash Bros on Kook's Nintendo Switch [as if Kai hadn't played enough games today]. It started to get intense; the boys jumping and yelling everywhere, bouncing off of the walls, with you getting pulled into the competition every now and then. Even though you knew you'd lost over and over again, you happily joined in anyway, seeing how excited your brother was - plus, it was always a bonus to hear Jungkook's loudly obnoxious, nerdy laugh.

"I WIN!"

"Hey, hey, hey. I let you win because it's your birthday." Jungkook said, making Kai laugh as he crashed to the floor.

"Sure." Kai huffed and puffed. "Crap, I'm tired. What time is it?"

"Almost midnight. We should start heading out, bubba." You patted Kai's chest gently.

"What? No, it's late. Why don't you two just stay here?" You suddenly remembered you've had Kai's shit in your trunk since you dropped him off at Yeonjun's this morning. You didn't have any change of clothes, but that could easily be fixed with Jungkook's closet.

"Only if the queen wants, she's driving."

"It's late, baby." Jungkook says to you softly. "No way I'm letting you two head out there."

"Okay." You give him a small smile before handing your keys. "Can you do me a favor?" He chuckles.

"What is it?"

"Kai's duffle bag is in my trunk." He nods and takes your keys.

"I got it. Kai, you can take the guest room or my office room." Jungkook says with his 3-bedroom apartment having ass. "I have my computer in my office room though, and a pull out bed. I don't know how comfy you'll be."

"It's cool, I'll just take your guest room. I always bring my laptop and switch whenever I sleep at my sister's." Kai says getting up. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jungkook says, toothlessly smiling at the both of you, completely endeared at how alike you two were - even down to the fact that you both said thank you for every little thing. If this was a result of Kai being close to you and having you as pretty much his mother figure, then Jungkook wouldn't know what to do with his feelings. He felt butterflies every time he thought about how cute and sweet you were, and he was always excited to be around you.

Jungkook does a quick jog to your car, grabbing Kai's Nike duffle from your trunk before jogging back to the elevator and back to his apartment. He walks in to see Kai helping you clean up the remaining dishes in the sink, tidying the rest of the things in his kitchen.

"Thank you." Jungkook says himself, a little unfamiliar with saying such a thing to be completely honest.

"You're welcome." You say softly, wiping your hands on his hand towel. "Off to bed, or are you gonna go online with your friends?"

"I'll see what they're up to, but I'm pretty beat. Today was fun." Kai smiles at the both of you. "I really appreciate it." You ruffle his hair a bit before gently pushing him towards his bedroom for the night.

"Bathroom's right over there, help yourself to anything you need."

"Don't stay up too late."

"Only if you aren't too loud." You gasp while Jungkook laughs out loud.

"Kai!"

"Hey, I'm just being honest. Please remember that I'm right in this room."

"Oh my god, go to bed." You shove him inside the room and shut his door. "Don't even say a word." You look at Jungkook shyly as you hurriedly brush past him to get into his room - even though Jungkook is literally right behind you with those long ass legs of his, making every stride so much easier for him to catch up to you.

"What's your outfit of choice tonight, pretty lady?" He shuts his door behind him as you start to make your way into his closet.

"Hm, I'll just wear this plain black--" You unfold it. "Balenciaga? Okay, I definitely can't just wear this to sleep."

"Why not?"

"Because this is like, name brand and everything."

"So?" He shrugs. "Just wear it, babygirl. It's not gonna make much of a difference, you're wearing it either way." You do a slight pout before you start to slip out of your clothes to get into his shirt. You make his way to his bathroom to take a little tinkle when you notice another toothbrush sitting next to his. A pink toothbrush, next to his blue one.

"Why do you have two toothbrushes?" You wash your hands as he comes in to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed.

"That's yours." Your eyes light up at his statement.

"Mine?"

"I figured since you'd be over more, it'd be easier for you." He furrows his brows lightly. "Unless.. you didn't want--" You press a kiss against his lips, his hands resting on your arms to keep you close.

"No, I did want that. Thank you."

"Of course, baby." He pecks your forehead.

"By the way, way to make me look like such a bad sister!" You say as you start getting your toothbrush ready.

"Why? The shoes?"

"The shoes, the Loco Moco, the games, the ice cream cake." You laughed. "I literally got him a video game and some money."

"I mean, he is turning 18. I wanted to help make it as memorable as possible."

"I appreciate you a lot. Really."

"I appreciate you too." Your eyes widen as you brush your teeth.

"Waaaaow, say thaht wun mohr tiyme." You say, pulling a Jungkook while brushing your teeth.

"Eye apprushiate yoh toh." You giggle. The both of you finish getting ready for bed before slipping into his warm sheets. Jungkook never goes to sleep early, however, he makes sure all the lights are off and that the show he's watching isn't too loud. You have no idea what's going on in his show, but you lay on his chest to watch for a little bit until you feel yourself getting a little more sleepy. He's holding you close, his hand brushing through your hair softly, causing tingles to ripple through your body.

"Kook."

"Yes, baby?"

"You make me happy." You say sleepily as you hung him tighter. He smiles down at you, your eyes now shut close as you slowly start to drift into a deep sleep. He presses a light kiss against your head, fingers still in your hair.

"You make me happy too, sweetheart."

[b0rista]

— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

WARNINGS: light angst & swearing.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: he's one of my ultimate favorite snk characters, and i needed to cleanse my page of the heavy ass warrior content djjfjf.

"you're either a blessing, or you're a lesson. either or, you and i met for a reason."

with all of the gore and the misfortune that comes with your livelihood, it's connie that gets you through it.

as expected, you first fell in love with him for his humor. not for the humor itself, but for how it shed the smallest flicker of joy upon a heaping tower of despair— as soldiers, you needed that. fortunately, he was the one that brought it to the table. even during your days as cadets, connie lived to make you laugh. hearing a chuckle flutter from your core served as a form of therapy for him, and with time, he grew addicted.

with that being said, he does the stupidest shit in order to get your attention. even when you're together, he'll do what needs to be done. for example, one time, he tried to impress you by doing a trick while saddled up on his horse. in an attempt to twirl like a jackass ballerina, the horse decided that it deserved better, and kicked him clean off its back. at the sight of his 5'2 ass being hoisted eight feet into the air, you nearly choked.

prepare yourself, he's a cuddler. after a particularly hard day's worth of work, connie finds solace in bedding up with you, knowing that you're safe, and with him. he asks that you don't tell anybody, but he actually really enjoys cuddling as the little spoon. to have his head pressed against your chest, his ear to your heartbeat, brings him comfort. of course, he'll never detest to being your big spoon, either. he absolutely loves the feeling of you buried within his touch.

^ if you ever want to go an evening without cuddling, he'll be immediately offended. never, ever, ever will the two of you fall asleep back to back. he simply won't have it, it makes him feel as if something's wrong. and if that is the case, nobody's falling asleep until you've talked about it and successfully sorted it out.

at the beginning of your guys' relationship, everyone worried for you. did he coerce you, y/n? are you being forced? has he threatened you, has he threatened your family? nobody could grasp the fact that connie motherfuckin' springer had managed to pull you.

if there's any sort of sour talk regarding you, no matter how little it is, this man will leap to your defense. one time, jean called your bedhead ugly, and connie propelled a moldy roll of bread into his forehead. in the end, a massive food fight erupted, and you were just standing there with your bedhead like 🧍‍♀️

HOWEVER, there was an instance that actually led to a genuine, real fight between you two as a couple. you'd managed to scuff up your leg during the battle with kenny the ripper and his associates, and when it came down to who was and who wasn't going to tag along for the eren & historia rescue mission, connie belittled you to the team behind your back. not because he actually felt that way, but because he'd do anything to maintain your safety— even if it meant hurting your feelings. telling captain levi that your abilities were inadequate for that particular mission hurt him, but he did what he felt was necessary.

in the end, though, levi saw through the charade. to connie's dismay, you came with to save eren and historia. and during the entire journey, you didn't even utter a word to him. of course, though, during the battle, you put your frustrations aside. once you saw your lover's head nearly get kicked in during combat, you understood his intentions, and you forgave him. as expected, he replied to your forgiveness with humor,, his go-to coping mechanism.

"considering how sexy i looked on the battlefield, i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

whenever his hair starts to grow out, you're the one that gets to cut it back down! he's able to do it himself, but he really likes it when you do it. you're typically propped up in his lap, sitting face to face as you file down his edges. he always loops his arms around your waist, intently staring you in the face— seeing you so concentrated on his hair, he can't help it.

you wouldn't expect this from connie whatsoever, but he likes it when you read to him. pick a literature of your choice and let him kick back and rest his head onto your lap, pleasE. he'll close his eyes, and for the first time in forever, stay still. the only time he and books ever coexist is when you're reading one to him. he'll also make fun of you whenever you stumble over a sentence,, so get ready.

the day you realize that this motherfucker is nearing six feet tall, you're ready for the holy spirit to whisk you away. literally, you measure his height on the weekly once you realize he just keeps gaining inches. that, and when he starts growing more into his face? lawd, take you now.

"connie, you're getting seXY-"

"what the hell does thaT mE A N-"

many, many proposals. none are meant to be taken seriously, which the both of you know. still, there are far too many proposals between the two of you. one time, you killed a fly midair, and he thought you were the baddest bitch on the block.

"marry me."

another time, he swooped you into the air with his maneuvering gear, and as you held onto him for dear life, you looked him dead in the face: "marry me, you baldheaded bastard."

it can be a reel, how many times the two of you say that bullshit. somehow, it's cute.

he doesn't really take basic boundaries into consideration. like, one time, you caught him using your toothbrush because he couldn't find his. it wasn't fun, you had to give him a serious talking to.

he is, without a doubt, constantly prepared to lay down his life for you on the battlefield. during his time as a soldier, he's grown significantly strong— and once he fell in love with you, he's felt even stronger. not only do you give him drive, but you lend him strength. with that being said, you're somebody he'd die for without even an ounce of hesitation. and knowing him, he's probably made that more than obvious.

when connie's village was destroyed and it was discovered that his entire family was turned into titans, you were one of the only ones to actually comfort him. you were absolutely enraged at how nonchalantly your lover's loss was set aside, and although he'd tried his hardest to conquer the grief alone, it was you who sat at his bedside at night, cradling him in your arms as he wept. never in your life had you seen him so distraught. after that period of time, your relationship with him only deepened in its seriousness. 

as expected, you and sasha spend quite a bit of time together! after all, that's your boyfriend's best friend. given her easygoing nature, it didn't take long for sasha to absolutely adore you. naturally, she wonders how the hell you manage to operate with a boyfriend like that, but she tries not to ask questions.

speaking of the wonder twins, they love getting you in trouble. whenever the two of them think up an astonishingly moronic shenanigan, there's a solid 50/50 chance that you'll be looped into it, too. one time, they purposefully dulled jean's razor, and when he went to shave, it only ended in him splitting his face open due to placing too much pressure. as a joke, those two jackasses carved your initials into the handle. when jean decided that he'd murder you, connie tried playing the hero, lEapiNg to your defense. it was stupid, and it didn't work. you still laugh about it, though.

there have been several jokes regarding starting a family and growing old together— secretly, though, connie doesn't want them to just be jokes.

he stole a stray cat for you. yup, yes he did. the two of you were walking about the city, and you saw a gray-haired sleeping beside a trash bin behind a local vendor. you compared its fur to the color of his hair, calling it cute. out of impulse, connie went back to that exact same vendor later on that day, trapped the cat in a box, and brought it to your doorstep.

his forearms and fingertips were covered in claw marks, but to see your face light up the way that it did, any amount of pain was immediately worth it.

after the nickname that shadis had given connie on the first day of cadet training, you named the kitty q-ball. 🥺

during the season four era, the two of you share a house. at first, captain levi argued against it— "put a pair of horny teenagers in a home together, what do you think is gonna happen?"

y'all said fuck it, and lived together anyways. it's you, him, and your lovely child, q-ball. occasionally jean, too. some nights, he doesn't want to be alone.

eskimo kisses. during the prepping of every single mission, you'll get eskimo kisses. it's a small, loving gesture the two of you do before heading into the battlefield. as a sign of your love, you'll press your foreheads together and rub noses, weapons holstered and ready for combat. it's a serious tradition, and it'll never be ignored.

and after a mission, connie has this habit of pinching your cheeks immediately after rushing towards you. it isn't to be cute, either. it's so that he can scan you, and check you for any harm. basically, it's him squeezing the life out of your face while bombarding you with questions.

expect supremely cheesy pet names! bae, biscuit, buttercup, baby thing, sexy bitch, and so on. if it were anyone else, he would 100% make fun of them. but it's him, therefore adorable.

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love- Chapter 4

So I planned for this chapter and the next to originally be one but as I started writing it, the words kept flowing and oops....now its really long. So I decided to split it. This means that I’m pretty much done with the next chapter so I’ll be able to get it out in a few days! Yay!

Also, Ivar is pretty manipulative in this chapter. Someone made a comment in the last chapter that I want to acknowledge. Going forward this is kind of a theme but I just want to put that warning statement- if this is triggering for you, please read with caution. There is nothing explicit or graphic but its still manipulation. 

Words:4000

Warnings: swearing, manipulation

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​

Series Masterlist

Sitting in the office at work, Kari sipped on her smoothie as she plugged in numbers for an inventory order. She had just finished teaching one of her morning classes and was now doing some paperwork for Lydia while on her "lunch break". 

 She jumped when her phone suddenly buzzed- a text alert. Surprised and curious as to who would be texting her at this time, she unlocked her phone to see the text from an unknown number. 

 Unknown: hey u busy 2nite?

 Kari: who is this?

 Unknown: u fav person

 Kari: OMG! Ed Sheeran?!

 She giggled quietly to herself, returning back to the laptop screen. Normally she ignored any calls or texts from unknown numbers, but it had been a good morning and she was feeling playful. When there was no return text, she shrugged the conversation off and returned to the order. Apparently, the unknown number did not get the reaction they were hoping for or realized they text the wrong person. Either way, she did not care. 

 A couple minutes later, her phone started to vibrate repeatedly. Looking down, she saw she was getting a call from the unknown number. She hesitated to answer, but by the third ring her curiosity got the better of her and she answered it. 

 "Hello?"

 "FUCKING ED SHEERAN? REALLY?"

 She sat there stunned. "Ivar?"

 "Of course, it's me. Who the fuck were you expecting?" He asked, angrily. 

 "How did you get my number?"

 He ignored her question, his voice suddenly sounding muffled. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be a second…. damn it. I know!"

 "Who is that?" 

 "My brother.” He scoffed, muttering something unintelligible under his breath, before speaking to her again. “I have to head back into a meeting now."

 "Oh, ok?"

 "You didn't answer my question."

 Her mind was still reeling from the fact that Ivar Lothbrok had her number and was calling her out of the blue. "What question?"

 He huffed, exasperation evident in his tone. "Are you busy tonight?"

 "Why?"

 "I want to take you out."

 "Ivar," she sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead, "I told you, I can't."

 "Yeah and I don't believe you, so…."

 "No. I'm sorry but the answer is still no."

 "Fine. I have to go." He snapped then abruptly ended the call.  

 Slowly, she pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. What just happened? Before she forgot, she added his number to her contacts since she had the distinct feeling this would not be the last time he contacted her. Once done, she set her phone down and dropped her head into her hands. 

 It had been two days since he drove her home and she said they could be friends. In those two days, this was the first contact they had. She had hoped he grew bored with her since she was not playing his game, that she refused to go out with him. Maybe he finally decided she was not worth his time and moved on? Which was for the best. She could never fit into his world, there was no space for her there. Nor did she want to. She was happy, content with her life. 

 It was better for her to not allow Ivar into her life. That's what she repeated to herself as she tried to focus on the inventory order. 

 *****

 "Just put the bags right there, thank you." Kari said, placing the grocery bags, one in each hand, onto the tiled floor. The kitchen in her townhouse was small, two people could barely move around in it without bumping into one another. Thankfully, she did not spend much time in the kitchen. Cooking had never been her forte. 

 "Do you need anything else? I don't mind staying to help." The dirty-blond haired man asked, setting the two bags he carried down onto the floor. He started to shuffle forward but seemed to think better of it and leaned against the half-wall separating the kitchen from the short hallway. 

 "Erik, it's fine. If anything, I owe you. You never let me pay for gas money."

 He shrugged, and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "It's not a big deal. I needed to shop too."

 "Still, it's not fair to you." She turned around from placing the milk in the fridge to look at him. 

 "If I think of something you can do to repay me, I'll let you know. Deal?"

 "Perfect."

 "Do you still want a ride to work tomorrow?"

 She shut the door and jokingly waved a hand at him. "See! You're too nice."

 "I'd be ‘too nice’ if I also showed up with coffee for you."

 She laughed, moving some frozen fruit into the freezer. "You're too perfect to not have a girlfriend." 

 He rubbed the back of his neck, a flush growing on his cheeks and drawing out a boyish smile. "I don't know if I'd say that. I'll let you get to it. I'll meet you outside at nine?"

 "Thank you, Erik."

 "Of course." He popped his head around the wall to look into the living room. "See you, Alana!"

 "Bye, Erik!" The response came from the living room. 

 Kari continued to put her groceries away as she heard the front door click shut behind him. Somehow, she needed to figure out a way to pay him back. 

 Erik lived in the townhouse next door alone. When he learned that Kari did not own a car, he offered to give her rides whenever it worked out for both of their schedules. At first, she had been hesitant, still not having lived in the townhouse for long but eventually gave in because he always acted like such a gentleman. Every time he saw her, he made sure to greet her and ask about her day. He always held the door open for her and anybody else close by. A negative word never passed his lips, rather choosing to focus on the positive in life. A routine soon started to form and every two weeks they would meet up outside of their townhouses and go grocery shopping together. When she did not have to work early, he would occasionally give her rides to work since the bank he worked at was only a couple blocks away. That was the extent of their interactions though. She wondered about inviting him over for dinner as to thank him but she always chickened out in asking him. Perhaps that was what she needed to do after all.  

 Once all her groceries were put away, she headed into the living room, seeing her roommate and friend sitting on the couch with the TV on to the Great British Bake-off but looking down at her phone. 

 The brunette asked, dropping onto the second couch. "How was work?"

 "Good. You?" Alana looked up, her make-up flawless like usual on her delicate features. 

 "Nothing too exciting."

 "You know, if you'd waited two hours I could have taken you to the store."

 Kari nodded, fiddling with her diamond stud earring. "I know, but you're so busy with work and school. I know you like relaxing when you come home and Erik said he was free today."

 "Did he now?" Alana asked with a smug look.

 Kari tossed a throw pillow at her. "Don't start this again."

 The blonde caught the pillow, still grinning like the Cheshire cat. "You know he likes you. He's just too shy to ask you out."

 "He's a friend, it's been like seven months, I think if he was going to ask me out, he would have done it by now."

 "He. Is. Shy." Alana enunciated, as if talking to a child. She rolled her blue eyes, leaning back against the couch. "Shit, he only started to actually talk to me this summer."

 "Cause you are intimidating."

 Alana threw the pillow back at Kari. "Bitch, it's cause I radiate sexiness and he can't handle it."

 "That is most definitely it." 

 "Well the guy I hooked up with last weekend said I radiated sexiness."

 Kari wrinkled her nose, looking over at her roommate. "I don't want to hear that. It's bad enough when you bring them here."

 "You know, it wouldn't be the worst thing for you to actually go out with Erik. He's…. sweet." She quietly stated, eyes back on the TV. 

 "Yeah."

 "I'm fairly sure he'd treat you better than that fucker of ex."

 Kari picked invisible lint off her black leggings, apprehensive about where the topic was going. Her love life, and lack of it, was something Alana liked to remind her of frequently as of late. "Honestly, I'm even sure anymore he should count as an ex."

 "Well you were supposed to be exclusive, right? And then you find out he's been fucking other girls the whole time. That counts as a shitty ex."

 She winced at the reminder of her one attempt at dating. "I don't…. I don't think I'm ready."

 The blonde pointed a finger at her roommate without turning her eyes away from the TV. "Well don't wait around forever, you'll miss out."

 "Says the woman who hooks up with a different guy almost every other weekend."

 "And I'm not missing out!"

 Kari laughed. Feeling her phone vibrate, she pulled it out of her pocket and checked it to see a new text from Ivar. 

 Ivar: hell no, if we r gng 2 see the Northern Lights thn we're gng 2 Iceland or Norway.

 She smiled at the text, quickly typing in a reply. 

 Kari: fine, we'll add that to the list. Can I please put South Africa back on the list?

 She fiddled with her diamond stud earrings, looking back at their conversation throughout the day. Just looking at all the texts, she bit her lip to try and contain the smile. 

 Ivar had texted her in the late morning, asking her out again. To which she just texted back a one-word answer- "no". Apparently undeterred, he ignored her 'no', saying how he wanted to take her to this popular restaurant. Somehow the conversation spiraled into creating overly outrageous "dates" he would take her on, each one more fantastic than the last, with her encouraging and creating her own ideas. Their texting had lasted all day, and she found herself actually looking forward to his responses. Something she never would have expected, especially after how rudely he hung up on her the prior day. 

 So far her favorite "date" involved him renting out the entire Roman Colosseum in Rome and having a candlelight dinner in the middle of the arena. The most amusing one was when she suggested they go skydiving. He shut down that idea saying they would have to be strapped to instructors and the only man she should ever be strapped to was him. 

 Her phone vibrated in her hand, alerting her to his response. 

 Ivar: u r not swimming w/ sharks 

 She giggled, trying to imagine his facial expression. She actually had no desire to do half of the stuff she suggested but it was funny to get a rise out of him. 

 Kari: African safari?

 "What are you giggling at?" Alana questioned, giving her the side-eye. 

 The smile dropped from her face. "Nothing."

 "That doesn't sound like nothing."

 "Just a funny meme." She deflected, getting to her feet. There was no way she could tell Alana she had been texting Ivar all day. "I'm going to shower."

 As she headed upstairs to her room, her phone vibrated again. 

 Ivar: do u jus luv danger?

 Kari: I'm talking to you, aren't I? 

 She headed to her bathroom, turning the shower on and checking the temperature. In a spur of the moment decision, she tossed in a eucalyptus shower bomb. 

 Just before she jumped in, she looked at her phone one last time to find his response.  

 Ivar: touche, kitten, touche 😘

 *****

 The soothing soundtrack of nature played over the speakers in the yoga studio room. A few women were already in the studio with their yoga mats out, either stretching or quietly conversing as they waited. Depending on the day, the ten am morning class could be busy but typically it averaged about fifteen to twenty women.

 Kari bent over, touching her palms to the floor. Even though she would not be continuously doing the routine along with those in her class, she still liked to be limber and have her muscles warmed up. This was a beginner class, where she spent a good portion of the time either correcting people's forms or showing how to do a certain pose. A few of her coworkers complained about teaching beginner classes since when the participants walked through the door, you never really knew what level they were at. 

 Checking the clock hanging over the door, she saw she had five minutes before her class started. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the pull of her muscles. The door to the studio room opened but Kari continued to stretch, shifting to a downward facing dog pose, holding it. She could hear some people moving around but she focused on her breathing.  

 "Mmm, I could get used to seeing this."

 The familiar voice behind her, caused Kari to try and whip around in startled surprise, only to end up crashing onto her ass. 

 Above her stood Ivar with a devilish smile. "Hello, kitten." He softly said with smolder that instantly made her flush and a tendril of warmth curl in her belly. Standing there in his jeans and red shirt with his hair pulled back in a man bun, it was unfair how striking he looked. Even the braces over his legs did nothing to deter from his attractiveness. 

 She rose quickly to her feet, wiping her hands over her leggings and peeking at the others in the room. Most were curiously watching their interaction but remained where they were. 

 "What are you doing here?" She hissed, turning her gaze back up to meet his. "How did you find me?"

 He rolled his eyes. "You were wearing a Whole Wellness Yoga Studio shirt when I drove you home last week. Plus, hearing from Gyda that you work here…. You're not that hard to find."

 That made sense, even if she disliked the logic. "Ok, fine. Why are you here though?"

 "I want to take you out tonight."

 "Oh gods." She could not believe what she was hearing. The prior day they had spent most of the day texting and sure it was fun, but her answer had not changed. When he had not text her this morning, she assumed that was the last she had heard from him. Apparently, he decided to ask her out in person instead of over the phone like the past two times. "Ivar… No."

 "Why? You keep saying you can't but never why."

 "It's just…. look, I don't want to date."

 He took a step closer, face inches above hers. His voice dropped low, an underlying current of anger in his tone. Those piercing blue eyes challenged her. "You say that but I don't think that's the real reason. So, until you tell me the truth, your 'no' means fucking nothing. Friends tell each other things, right?"

 "You know, I don't think we should be friends anymore."

 He chuckled, still standing too close for a normal conversation. "Too late. I like you."

 "I'm still not going out with you." She placed her hands on her hips, trying to appear confident, hoping desperately he did not hear the wavering in her voice. 'This was for the best, it was best for both of them' she repeated in her mind. 

 "Fine. I'll wait for you to change your mind." He winked and stepped back. To her horror, she watched as he walked over to the side of the room where she kept her water bottle and light jacket. He grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over before dropping down with his legs in a manspread, that stupid smirk still on his face. 

 She stomped over to him, whisper-shouting at him. "What are you doing?"

 "I'm waiting."

 "What?"

 "I'm not leaving until you agree to go on a date with me."

 "You can't...no…. Ivar." She whined. 

 "I walked all the way here to see you, even though my legs are quite painful today…. you wouldn't kick a cripple out when they just need to rest, would you?" He asked, eyes widened in mock innocence. One of his hands rubbed at his knee in exaggerated fashion as if to prove the discomfort he was in. 

 She groaned. "I hate you."

 "No, you don't." He gloated, then nodded towards the clock. "It's ten o'clock, it's time to start your class, I believe."

 Without another word, she moved to the front of the room. She refused to play this game. Her answer was 'no' and no matter what he said or did, her answer would not change. The whole time she could feel his rakish gaze on her, reminding her how tight her leggings and purple tank top were. She tried to focus on her class, smiling at the women she recognized and the ones that she assumed was new. "Let's begin. Everyone start in mountain pose. Take deep breaths, let's center ourselves."

 "Kari!" 

 She looked over at the older woman, Ingrid, who called out. The woman was easily one of Kari's favorites, doting upon those who worked at the yoga studio, and becoming the unofficial grandmother of them. Ingrid had been coming to the yoga studio for years but was forced to only take beginner level classes after a bad fall the prior year. She loudly complained about her doctor being an idiot and how she felt fine, but Lydia refused to let her attend any other class than beginner classes until otherwise said by her doctor. 

 "Yes?"

 Ingrid's hazel eyes twinkled with mischief from the front row where she stood. "You planning on introducing that handsome young man you've got over there?"

 "No, we are going to ignore his presence. He's going to be leaving soon." Kari flatly stated with a polite smile.

 "Hi! I'm Ivar!" He announced with a charming smile, his bright blue eyes alluring under the dim lights. Giving a little wave with his fingers, he continued, "I hope my presence doesn't bother all you lovely women, I just came to see my girlfriend and ask her on a date tonight."

 A chorus of "awwwws" filled the room. 

 Kari wanted nothing more than to bang her head against a wall. Or preferably, Ivar's head. She could not believe the audacity of him.

 "Where are you taking her?" One of the newer women asked in a flirty tone, pulling her shoulders back to emphasize her ample chest. 

 Ivar barely glanced at her, keeping his focus on Kari. "It's a surprise. I wanted to do something special."

 "Young man, if I were a few years younger, I would fight Kari here so you could take me on a date." Ingrid said with a laugh. 

 "I would be honored to take a lovely woman like you on a date." He sent a playful wink to Ingrid. 

 "Alright, let's get back to yoga." Kari tried to redirect the attention. Annoyed and upset did not even begin to describe how she felt. 

 "Well it was lovely to meet you, young man. Kari should have told us her boyfriend was so handsome. We might have convinced her to bring you in sooner for some eye candy." Ingrid teased. 

 "He's not my boyfriend." Kari retorted, shooting a glare at the smug raven-haired man. 

 "And that is why I'm trying to take her on a date." He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, eyes staring at her beseechingly. "Just for her to give me a chance."

 "Get her some tulips. Those are her favorite flowers." Karina called out from the back of the room. 

 "Can't go wrong with chocolate!"

 "Oh! Read her a sonnet and dance under the stars together!"

 "This is so romantic…. like something out of a movie." Someone loudly whispered, making a few others laugh. 

 Kari dropped her chin to her chest. Tears welled in her eyes. She knew those in the class meant well, that they were really just trying to help. But they were helping the wrong person. Why would Ivar not leave her alone? She told him 'no' multiple times, that should have been enough. Her tolerance for his behavior was waning rapidly and honesty she was not sure if she would fight back…. or surrender. 

 The chair scratched faintly on the floor followed by his footsteps landing audibly as he crossed the room to reach her. She refused to lift her head, her eyes squeezed shut. Not just to pretend she could not feel him standing so close to her, but to try and hide the single tear that rolled down her cheek. 

 "Kari." He whispered, the sound a caress of her name. 

 Still she did not move. 

 Gently, he tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His thumb wiped away the evidence of her tear. It was those captivating eyes, the ones that could both scorch everything in view but also send flames of desire dancing across her skin, that met hers. To her surprise, there was a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability, that was reminiscent of the few times they were alone. As if with just her, for a brief moment, he let his guard down and she could glimpse the real Ivar. 

 "Go out with me." He murmured faintly, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Standing in front of her, his broad back to the class gave them a semblance of privacy. "Please."

 "Why can't you let this go?" She begged quietly, staring up at him. 

 "I told you, I'm persistent." He smiled, almost shyly. 

 In his words, it felt like there was such a depth to them she was unaware of. That he was confessing something to her in which she did not have the key to fully understand. 

 She sighed softly, closing her eyes for a moment before looking at him again. "Fine. I'll go…. But it's only as friends, ok? This isn't…. Romantic. Just…. Just friends."

 "Sure, just friends." He leaned forward and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her cheek. "I'll pick you up at seven."

 She nodded, feeling torn apart inside. 

 After a lingering look that breathed a flame into her belly, he spun on his heel to face the women. "She said yes!"

 A few cheers and clapping reverberated in the small yoga studio room. 

 "I graciously thank you all for your sound advice and encouragement with helping me to woo the beautiful Kari. Wish me luck as I plan to thoroughly spoil her tonight." Ivar dramatically bowed, shooting a quick wink at Kari as she watched him. 

 She desperately tried to fight the small smile off her lips. No one could say that Ivar was not charming or charismatic when it suited him. 

 As he finally made his way to the door, he turned around just before pushing it open. "Wear something nice." He said, pointing a finger at Kari and then walked out like a dream where one cannot decide if it was a nightmare or not. 

 The brunette ran a hand down her face before shoving aside her emotions and plastering a customer smile on. "I'm so sorry about all of this. Let's get back to it. I promise it won't happen again, ladies."

 "Kari, dear, you have fun with that boy tonight." Ingrid spoke up, eyes darting to the now closed door and back to the yoga instructor. "And if you don't want him, let me know. I'd still jump on him in a heartbeat. That boy has the prettiest eyes, I swear."

 A few sounds of agreement echoed in the room. 

 Kari could not stop her smile from turning genuine at Ingrid. No matter the situation, the feisty, older woman always knew how to make her laugh. "I promise I'll let you know. Now, back to mountain pose please."

 Silently, she hoped tonight was not a mistake.

[bisluthq]

Hey! I'm fairly new here and I have a pretty uncommon take on Kaylor. But I just wanna start off by saying I try my best to be as supportive of LGBT people as possible and if they're both bisexual, then I would be 100% okay with that! I'm not trying to "defend their heterosexuality" or anything, I think that's really weird

Okay, so my personal theory is that Kaylor did happen, but that Taylor and Karlie are both straight. I know that might sound contradictory, but I say this based on my own personal experiences based on how I am with my best friend. I think Karlie and Taylor's relationship might have been similar in some ways to ours

Right, so I'm straight and I'm not into women in the gay kind of way (but it's completely cool that some girls are), and I have this roommate who's gorgeous. Really gorgeous, she's like a 10/10 "I would sell my kidney to look like you" kind of girl. She's very attractive, she has like tan skin and long legs and gorgeous brown hair and pretty eyes and nice lips and just like… she's just very good looking. I'm definitely jealous of her body, I won't even pretend I'm not 😪 I lowkey hate her because of it (jk)

We've been living together since not long before COVID started, and we're very good friends. There were three of us before, but our other roommate went back home to stay with her parents until in person classes are back on and we agreed to it and worked something out because she has really bad anxiety so we understood her reasoning for it

Anyway so it's just been us two and because we've been at home a lot during this time instead of out for most of the day like before, we've gotten to know each other a lot better and have become a lot closer. We were already friends from before, but now we're like super close besties, we've been hanging out a lot together and playing board games, watching movies, helping each other with essays, just having long conversations about anything and everything, etc

Like it's been so nice having a best friend that I can be this close to now because I haven't had a best friend since I was a kid

So my friend and I were having like a conversation last year about how hard it's been in quarantine not being able to go on dates and how we miss kissing people, and so we decided to just like, make out for fun you know. I mean, there's not really anything that's inherently romantic or sexual about making out, that's just society that says that. But tbh I think making out with your friends if you want to should be normalized, it's fun and it can even be emotional sometimes. It's not that different from hugging people

After a couple of weeks or so, I think we got bored of just making out with each other and decided to like, fully hook up. It started off because we were modelling lingerie for each other for banter and were pretending we were each other's runway judges and then I think we just decided to hook up with each other as like part of the whole "game". I can't remember who initiated it now, I think it might have been me as a joke lol

Like just in a platonic way for fun, as a kind of substitute until we can go back into society

And tbh I always expected hooking up with a woman to be like mediocre and boring and awkward, but although it was a bit hard to get the hang of at first and there was a learning curve, it's actually very enjoyable. Like I was very surprised actually at how hot it can be, I think I can maybe see why bisexual women and lesbians like doing it

Anyway we both liked it and we just carried on hooking up on the regular and it's been like 8 months now and tbh I just think it's very sweet and heartwarming, like it actually makes me feel a little emotional how we're close enough and care about each other enough that we can even help each other out with the physical intimacy side of things so that we don't get sexually frustrated while we're stuck in lockdown

I just think it's really cool and we even sleep in the same bed most of the time now because tbh what's the point in sleeping alone when you can sleep in the same bed as someone else? It's nicer, like you can cuddle and stuff

Anyway, I think that maybe Kaylor's relationship might have been similar. I think they're both straight but they became really close friends in a short space of time, and that their friendship was so intense that it became physical but in a platonic way

I think lesbians and bisexual women are amazing and I have so much respect for you guys for accepting yourselves in a society that tries to erase you, and I think there definitely needs to be more wlw representation on TV and in movies

But at the same time, I would also like there to be more close female friendships like the one that me and my friend have where you can just talk about everything together and do things that society usually reserves for romantic partners, but in a platonic way. Because female friendship is really important and beautiful, whether that's between straight women like me and my friend who I think is probably straight too, or between queer women because one thing I've learnt during my short time on this blog is how queer women can have very close platonic friendships with other queer women too

I think society just has overly strict ideas of "straight" and "gay". Like for some people, they would hear about two women sleeping together and think "Oh that's gay", but not necessarily because straight women can enjoy sleeping with other women too, like it's normal 🤷‍♀️

I think it's just a result of women being a lot more physically beautiful than men are, like straight women really got the short end of the stick tbh compared to straight men

I also think it's because women are so oversexualized in the media, and obviously straight girls see that too and so we sort of internalize that attraction to women because we're so used to seeing women being presented in a sexual way? Except it's not real attraction with us like how it is for queer girls

Like I'm very much "attracted" to my friend, she's genuinely stunning and just very hot tbh. But I still identify as straight because it's just a case of what I mentioned above, it's a "fake" attraction. And also because men are afraid to compliment other men because it's seen as "gay", but women can be fully confident in their sexuality and still recognize other women's beauty and sex appeal. You see it all the time in instagram comments, and I really love how we're all so supportive of each other like that

Like I can be fully confident in my sexuality and yet still say that some women like my friend are gorgeous as hell and also 100 times better looking than most men I've seen. I'm very much obsessed with some women's appearances but in a platonic way

And I just love the concept of "girl crushes" and I think that from a feminism viewpoint, it's beautiful that we're focusing on other girls and showing love towards other girls too, instead of just to men who, let's be real, don't even fully appreciate it half of the time

I am going to be sad when we all have to return to life as usual and my friend and I won't be able to spend as much time together anymore. I'm dreading it tbh, I don't want it to end yet. And it really sucks that the physical side of our friendship will probably have to stop too once our other roommate comes back because I think she'd definitely misunderstand the situation and think it's something different than it actually is if she ever saw us kissing or something. I really am going to miss it a lot though, I really like how things currently are and it's just really really nice and I don't want it to change :/

Btw I'm sorry if I sounded fetishistic or offensive with any of this, I just get a bit jealous sometimes that you guys get to date girls and we're just stuck with men. Honestly if it wasn't for all of the homophobia and the struggles that you all have to face and the fact that it would feel disrespectful to the LGBT community, I would probably really wish I could change my sexuality to be bisexual or gay instead because I just think women are better. Sometimes I really do wish I was into women in that way because dating girls just sounds so much more appealing to me (in a non fetishizing weird way) but unfortunately I'm stuck with dating men 🤦‍♀️ But I also know I'm lucky and privileged to be straight even though most men are mediocre and kinda gross and I don't mean to be disrespectful because I know you all have to face homophobia and other LGBT difficulties and it really sucks, people are awful. There's nothing wrong with women dating women or men dating men at all, society is just ugly and bigoted

Anyway, does anybody else have a similar sort of take on Kaylor where they think they could have both been straight and just had a very close friendship with a physical side to it? I think it would explain a lot. But like I said, this is just a theory of mine based on my own situation, and I'm also open to the idea that it was an actual relationship and that they're both into women for real, not just fake "into women" like I am.

Also pls feel free to call me out if I accidentally said anything offensive towards LGBT people, I tried my best but if I made a mistake anywhere pls let me know and I'll avoid it next time!

You’re not offensive. Please stop apologizing. And we’re gonna come back to the Kaylor stuff another time because... Honey. You and I need to have a conversation for a bit.

So firstly, I’m not trying to like “diagnose” you and at the end of the day it’s your choice what you want to call yourself but... tbh you might not be straight. Sexuality is fluid not static and exists on a spectrum not in absolutes. It’s not like it’s straight, 50/50 bi, gay and you’re born knowing and there’s no room for anything else. That’s not true. There’s a lot of room in between all of these and labels can change over time. We’re people, not cereal brands, and sometimes we don’t even KNOW the word for what we might be. I’m tagging a tag for you from when we asked people to share their label journeys for you to see. It’s not simple or easy and it’s not just because of external stuff - it’s because figuring this out internally is HARD. If you found yourself having such an intense friendship it became physical, repeatedly, you liked it a lot, you still sleep in the same bed and continue to share all your thoughts and you don’t want any of that to end... I’m not sure you’re Kinsey 0. And I think you might lowkey have a girlfriend dude. 

You can obviously prefer men but like... hun I reaaallly don’t think you’re completely straight.

Also: it’s okay to say “I see myself winding up with a man and this is a situationship for right now!” but that doesn’t make you straight because again, sexuality is a spectrum and you can manifest a particular kind of endgame while experiencing other things along the way.

But here’s where you really got me: “most men are mediocre and kinda gross” and “women being a lot more physically beautiful than men are, like straight women really got the short end of the stick tbh compared to straight men” because that’s the kind of thing I used to say in my Bi 1.0 era before I ID’d as a lesbian for a bit and before Harry Styles (KING 🥺) made me bi for real. Hun, no. Straight women like men. Tbh BI women like men. I genuinely, unironically, find Harry and Timmy and Matt Smith to be sexy beasts and I would do dirty things to the former two but maybe not the latter irl in 2021 but yes also him if I could be on that Spain trip with him and Karen where they got sloshed and which I think of often. These men are genuinely fucking beautiful to me in the same way Taylor is and Di Silvers is (okay she’s prettier than all of them but like same ~vibe) and like Megan Thee Stallion is and Indira Varma in everything but especially GOT and Gillian Anderson and Keira Knightley. Like those women are HOT to me and SO. ARE. THE. MEN. 

Straight women find SO MANY DUDES hot. So many. Starting from objectively pretty options I just cannot personally understand like Chris Evans all the way through to bitches who are outchea simping for wrestlers and Cole Sprouse. Do I understand? No. But like... that’s straight girl culture and ours is not to judge. 

If you’re struggling to find men hot then... you might be gay.

Also, I’m not sure what you mean by “fake attraction”. Like queer women - especially femme women which I assume you very much are - experience the same kinds of feelings straight girls do. We have women we want to be like and look like and find enviable (me and Oenone Forbat) and women we find aesthetically gorgeous (me and Anya Taylor Joy) and we have extremely close female friends who we can spend hours on end spilling our guts to - as you say female friendships are truly special - and without going into personal people that you don’t know, that’s me and Cam and Sim right? I literally talk to them for hours. Like those are not gay feelings. And yes we can chat about those kinds of feelings with straight girls and call them “girl crushes” and not immediately get “caught out” because they experience this exact shit too.

But here’s the thing. They never do and I don’t want in the cases above to fuck these women. It’s not sexual.

The moment I can actually imagine fucking the women in question that’s... gay. 

Like it’s not “fake attraction” it’s literally just gay. That’s how we desire women. We want to fuck them. Not all women. Not always. But sometimes we want to get under or on top of one and just really truly fucking make each other moan with pleasure.

I have no idea if Karlie or Taylor are into women. They could both literally be straight. I have no idea.

But I have a better idea about you.

Hun, you’re fucking your roommate/best friend and don’t want to stop.

You’re not “into women”.

You’re into this woman.

And possibly into women more generally.

So I know it’s weird to have to be the one to tell you this, and if you want to keep chatting via anon or in my DMs or if you want me to try collate resources for you from around the web but...

Like.

Dude.

You’re a whole ass part of the rainbow.

Welcome to the community you thought you weren’t a part of earlier today 🌈 ❤️

It’s nice here, sure there’s homophobia, but at least we get to fuck girls and man is it good.

[welllpthisishappening]

Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot

Honestly, Emma was less mad about the whole thing than she expected. Disappointed, that was the word. And everyone knew that disappointed was far worse than mad. 

Because being dateless on New Year’s Eve was one thing. Being dateless while pining over a roommate with a secret Match.com profile and apparent relationship-type desires that were the complete opposite of her was—

Disappointing, really. 

If Killian kissed anybody, she was going to drink an entire bottle of champagne by herself. 

-----

Rating: Teen, kissing, far too many Grinch references

Word Count: 9.2K

AN: Today is our last festive prompt! Or, at least one that’s a stand-alone story. Our said prompts come from @kmomof4​ who asked for “i don't wanna get up-- you're comfy."// "i'm cold. come closer." //"i love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.” And I got all three in. As always, I cannot thank you guys enough for clicking and reading and saying such nice things. Here’s to a 2021 that’s full of even more fic, satisfying TV storylines and lots of fictional characters making out. 

Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam

-----

“Shit.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Rolling her eyes over the top of the phone in her hand, Ruby didn’t look particularly amused at the distinct lack of enthusiasm in Emma’s voice. That was something of a theme. For like—the last thirty-six hours, but also the majority of their relationship, and none this should have come as a surprise, only she’d had a lot of wine in the last forty-six minutes, and it might have been catching up with her. Was definitely catching up with her. 

“How much did you pay for the garbage alcohol you’ve been shoving at me?” Emma asked archly, and she was only slightly worried about getting home. Her head felt muddled. Like there were too many thoughts, and this time of year always did that to her brain, and her consciousness, and at least eighty-two percent of this was Mary Margaret’s fault. 

For deciding that they were going to have a party. 

On New Year’s Eve. 

Like complete cliches. 

“I’ll have you know,” Ruby drawled, eyes dropping back to her phone and whatever noise it was making, “that I paid at least twelve dollars for—”

“—Lies,” Elsa yelled, and it was a testament their current situation that she’d raised her voice at all. Nothing like that ever happened, and the overall roll rate of Ruby’s eyes was going to give her a migraine. 

Her phone made another noise. 

“She’s lying to you,” Elsa added. “Straight to your face.”

She’d still be staring down a dateless New Year’s Eve, but—

Emma scrunched her nose. “What else is new?”

“Oh, I take offense to that,” Ruby cried, but she was almost too obviously distracted, and the inability of this conversation to be concise was starting to grate on Emma’s nerves. Or what remained of them. Maybe she was the Grinch.

No, that wasn’t right. The Grinch had an enlarged heart, which Emma certainly did not have — and that was nice and appropriately festive for the season, the Grinch, not her, and he had a dog. Emma didn’t have a dog. If she had a dog, there was no possible way she’d be annoyed as she was. 

Whatever, honestly. 

Her date, or lack thereof, was not important, and she was going to drink this entire bottle of Barefoot Moscato, price tag be damned, and then she was going to figure out some way to get home. Without falling over. 

Also, the Grinch didn’t have a roommate. Unless you counted the dog, and Emma didn’t think Max could conceivably hold so many titles in a twenty-two minute animated Christmas special, and she imagined the Grinch was also not pining after his dog slash roommate slash stand-in reindeer. That’d be weird. 

For a twenty-two minute animated Christmas special. 

She’d never seen the Jim Carey version. Or that other one with Benedict whatever-his-name-is.

Away from dating apps and wine that was very likely going to give her one hell of a headache, and Killian would at least make sure she was vaguely hydrated before she collapsed on some sort of horizontal surface. She wasn’t going to be picky about which one, honestly. 

“Why are there so many versions of the Grinch?”

Ruby didn’t look at her. Her eyebrows moved, though. Lifted ever so slightly into her hairline, and Elsa’s glance wasn’t exactly subtle, and Emma needed to go home. 

“Expand on that for me,” Ruby said, lips twisted as soon as she stopped talking. Something was wrong. Well, more wrong. In an alcohol-saturated sort of way that included all those previously discussed mobile dating apps. 

“There are so many Grinches,” Emma said. “You think that’s a commentary on society? Like as a whole? That we need to—”

“—Embrace the spirit of Christmas?”

“Because we as a general population are all assholes?”

“You’ve had too much wine.”

“Not a question,” Elsa mumbled, elbow bumping Emma’s shoulder when she perched on the edge of the sofa, and Ruby’s eyes were still doing that thing. Widening every now and then — a flash of understanding mixing in with surprise, and Emma wasn’t sure how many muscles were in a human thumb, but she figured all of Ruby’s were getting quite a workout, scrolling as quickly as they were. 

“If I have,” Emma muttered, “it is entirely Ruby’s fault. Who buys pink Moscato and expects their guests not to drink the whole bottle?”

“Seems to suggest you’re a guest, though,” Ruby said, “and that’s awfully prim and proper.”

Ruby couldn’t possibly be Cindy Lou Who in this metaphor. 

Emma couldn’t argue with that. Mostly because she’d drank so much of the pink Moscato. “Ok, ok, forget the wine for two seconds. And the Grinch. Why were you making proclamations before? They were very loud and—”

Nothing changed. The phone was still there — wobbling slightly because it seemed Ruby’s forearm strength was lacking just a bit, but the screen didn’t change, and Emma was certain this was somehow also Taylor Swift’s fault. For rerecording Love Story and letting Ryan Reynolds use it in that Match.com ad. 

“So…”

Although really that made it more Scooter whatever-his-last-name-was’s fault, for stealing all of Taylor Swift’s songs and being a noted and massive dick, and Emma’s inability to remember anyone’s last name was clearly something of a personality failing. 

“Thoughts?” Ruby pressed. 

At least twelve-thousand, but none of them seemed especially interested in being said out loud, and Emma’s tongue felt like it was simultaneously growing and dissolving in her mouth. None of it was particularly comfortable, what legitimately felt like cotton balls bursting out of her cheeks and making it difficult to breathe, and she should have lived in a cave. With her dog and the inexplicable set of antlers she owned to make that same dog look like a reindeer, and then she wouldn’t have to be staring at Killian Jones’ dating profile on goddamn Match.com eight days before a New Year’s Eve party she only marginally wanted to attend. 

“Don’t people just use Tinder now?” 

Emma’s voice did not sound like her own. Presumably because of the tongue thing and the cotton ball analogy, and she wondered if the Uber driver she was inevitably going to request would be especially annoyed by her desire to blast Taylor Swift in the backseat. 

She’d give them five stars. 

No matter what — because she wasn’t an asshole, but especially if they let Emma blast Taylor Swift in the backseat. 

Ruby rolled her eyes. “You’re very old; you know that?” 

Her face was very warm. 

“Buy me better wine.”

Emma had never gone into cardiac arrest before, but the sinking feeling in her chest was sudden and a little jarring and she tried very hard to swallow down the wad of emotion currently taking up residence in the middle of her throat. Didn’t work. 

“Only nine bucks, honestly?”

Failed spectacularly, quite honestly. 

“I don’t want to know,” she announced. “Whatever he put on there is his—”

“What Killian does or doesn’t do in the world of modern dating has nothing to do with me,” Emma said, only a little disappointed because she didn’t think people got multiple miracles in their lives and to having hers ensure her voice didn’t shake over those particular words in that particular order felt lame. 

“I don’t care.”

All things considered. 

Scrunching her nose, Ruby’s nod lacked a certain sense of honesty. “Sure, sure, sure, well—” She shrugged. “—He’s here. Being available. Presumably for New Year’s, and…”

Emma waited for the rest. All the reasons she’d heard before, and her friends were convinced. Something about inevitable, and happily ever after, but that second part was mostly Mary Margaret and it was likely easier to believe in the fairy tale when you were living it. 

Pessimism was also fairly lame. As far as defining traits went. 

“What are you—” Elsa started, but then she was moving and her teeth clicked exactly five times, as soon as she looked at the screen, and Emma was not capable of dealing with any of this. Watching her friends gape at her, Ruby’s phone still held loosely in her hand, and neither one of them objected when she finally managed to get to her feet. 

And the Uber driver didn’t offer to play any Taylor Swift, but Emma didn’t ask and she didn’t blast it in the backseat. 

So, that felt like a victory. Which she desperately needed — to counteract the state of her pancreas and half a dozen other internal organs when her thumb hovered over the button, and it took at least two minutes and twelve seconds for Match.com to download. 

She should have waited until she was on wifi. 

To say that Emma’s relationship with Killian Jones was complicated would be something of an understatement. And she wouldn’t use the word relationship. 

He was her friend. 

Her very good looking friend, with stupid eyes that regularly flashed at her like he was too aware of the mush-like state it sent her into, and he was friends with her brother, and once upon a time she’d briefly considered hating him, but that never really stuck and he made hot chocolate better than anyone she knew. Refused to use the prepackaged mix. Did something on the oven that Emma didn’t entirely understand, and never trusted herself to try on her own, and Killian was never late with his half of the rent. 

Or any of the utilities. 

Living together was a decision born of convenience and the extra room Killian had once Will moved out, but it also made a lot of sense and it was good. Really good. Would have been great if Emma wasn’t pining after him and his stupid eyes like some lovelorn idiot, but she had gotten almost impossibly good at rationalizing the whole thing in the last few years, and—

“Shit, shit, shit,” she chanted, slumped in the corner of the couch with her knees threatening to impale her chin and there must have been a record for frustrated cursing while staring at a roommate's dating profile. She’d definitely passed it, like, seven minutes ago. 

Scrolling down only led to scrolling back up, twisting her lower lip between her teeth while staring at photos and lists and options she was sure came from some AI or relationship-type algorithm and coming to terms with the end of the world was harder than she expected it to be.  

At least the end of her love life. 

Of which there wasn’t much to begin with, so it probably wasn’t very hard for the whole thing to topple over, but Emma was feeling especially melodramatic and they needed to buy some WD-40. For their very squeaky door. 

“Hey,” Killian said, shrugging out of his jacket and it was apparently snowing out. Flakes dusted his shoulder, clung to several strands of hair, and Emma couldn’t melt into the couch. They couldn’t afford to buy another one. “That can’t be good for your spine.”

Humming, Killian didn’t bother brushing the snow out of his hair before he walked forward, falling onto the other end of the couch and pulling Emma’s sock-covered feet into his lap. “Are they any cookies left?”

“I’m going to tell Mary Margaret you’re a cookie glutton and—”

Sixteen guys had messaged her already. 

“So I’ve heard. Whatcha you doing?”

Maybe that was a compliment. Emma didn’t think so, though. 

She couldn’t believe she had to make a profile. To stalk her roommate. And his interests. There were a lot of interests on Killian’s Match.com profile. 

Strictly speaking, she didn’t have much experience with shoulders and their proclivity to being rested on, but she liked to believe Killian’s was one of the more comfortable out there. Her head fit very well, at least. 

“Nothing.”

So as to avoid any lingering after-effects from its continued failure. 

“I’ve got twenty-seven bucks on him asking at the party,” Killian said, “but Locksley thinks he’s just going to lose any sense of self-control and blurt it out before, I just—”

Emma’s phone dinged. 

Again. Multiple times, in quick succession — and she should have turned off notifications for that stupid app, but she wasn’t really using it for its intended purpose and Killian was staring at her. With a look that made it all too clear he knew what was going on. 

That didn’t make her feel any better. 

“Ruby said she was thinking about bringing someone,” he muttered, “to, uh—to the thing. The New Year’s thing.”

The air shifted. Crackled with electricity Emma knew she was imagining, and want she was only barely managing to temper and if Will did propose to Belle on New Year’s Eve she refused to be held accountable for her emotional reaction. She’d totally cry. 

“Call it a thing again.”

Ruby would never let her hear the end of that.

Shaking his head brusquely, Killian’s grip tightened around Emma’s ankle. She had no idea he was holding her ankle — fingers wrapped all the way around the joint until the tips threatened to touch because apparently his fingers were that long, and she’d probably only obsess about that for like the next few years, or so. Which seemed reasonable. 

“Anyone good?” he asked, low and gruff and whatever was back in the middle of her throat did not appear intent on leaving any time soon. No matter how many times Emma swallowed. 

Or how often Killian’s eyes flickered. Towards her throat.

The idea never even crossed her mind, honestly. 

Flinching the way she did only guaranteed that Emma’s spine collided with the arm of their couch, but she was at least less inclined to melt and she supposed romantic beggars could not be choosers. “Yuh huh,” she said, “and you’re well acquainted with the noises and the reasons behind the noise?”

That probably wasn’t important. 

And just like that—it was fine. Well, maybe not fine, but at last fine adjacent, and something inching closer to normal, and Killian kissed her temple again before he stood up. 

“You’re avoiding my question.”

She didn’t pick up her phone until she went to bed, dragging every blanket they owned behind her down the hallway. 

On the ever-growing list of problems Emma had during a week when problems were supposed to be non-existent, Killian's Match.com profile had very easily cemented itself at the top of the list. 

It didn’t match — her, at least. Every single thing he was apparently looking for in some sort of potential life partner was the exact opposite of every single thing that made Emma her. Musical tastes were diametrically opposed, movies she’d never once seen him watch in the legitimate decades she’d known him were praised with the kind of adjectives even Robert Ebert would scoff at. The pictures were good, but Emma knew that was more a result of her attraction to her roommate than anything else, and he said he liked people who cooked. 

She couldn’t cook. 

She tried. 

Twenty-four hours after the weird couch incident, which was a name only Emma was using, she was sure, and the smoke alarm had gone off and—

This was Ruby’s fault. And Taylor Swift. Whose new album was very good, and made for perfect and consistent pining music. 

She was so disappointed she was positive she reeked with it.

“Cooking,” Emma said, like that was an explanation and not an excuse and she was definitely using too many of her personal miracles. “Nothing caught on fire!”

Lolling his head to the side, Killian leveled her with an exasperated expression. Brows pinched together and that shade of blue wasn’t quite as sharp, but was still somehow almost amused and she didn’t think the oven was supposed to make that noise. It was very loud. “Lack of flames is not a sign of success, love,” he said, “and it’s—ah, fuck.”

The smoke alarm was louder than the oven. 

Blasting through their apartment and, Emma was sure, through the entire building, the beep hit its rhythmic stride quickly, so she reacted like an adult to the whole situation by gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. Killian breezed by her, swinging open another squeaky door and fumbling through what sounded like several dozen boxes and he cursed. More than once.

Emma nodded. 

Emma cracked open one eye. “We do, I—”

Their neighbors must hate them. Rightfully so. 

“We definitely own a broom,” she promised, “we’re not savages. We clean.”

Graham was probably very nice.

“Was there a reason for that?”

Emma swallowed. Still didn’t help. 

“Swan.”

“Alright,” Killian said softly, “c’mere.”

Saying that what happened next happened quicker than Emma expected it to, also suggested that Emma expected it to happen at all, which was one of the bigger lies she’d told in the last week or so, and she was really growing a metric shit ton of lies, so that was especially impressive and she yelped very loudly. As soon as hands gripped her hips, lifting her off the floor and directing her underneath the questionably loud smoke detector. 

“This could wake the dead,” she proclaimed, shouting the words because if they were going to descend into total farce, then she was really going to lean into it.

Killian’s head fell to her stomach. If she died right there, she hoped he didn’t drop her. Although, she’d also be dead, so—she probably wouldn’t notice. 

“Just turn it off, love.”

She hated all that music. 

“See,” he grunted, “that makes it sound like we don’t have a broom, and—” Adjusting her, one of her legs twisted around his, something Emma was going to claim as instinct and not that same want that was another one of her more defining characteristics, and he definitely exhaled. Loudly. And directly into her t-shirt. “—Swan, I really need you to fix this, love.”

Using his shoulder as leverage, and keeping her leg exactly where it was, she still had to stretch her arm out and it took far more movement than either one of them could apparently handle silently for her to press the button that fixed everything. 

Despised The Godfather, on some sort of fundamental level and Kay deserved better than Michael Corleone, even if that version of Al Pacino was almost kind of attractive, but—

Relatively speaking, at least. 

He didn’t lift his head immediately. Or drop her. That probably wasn’t a metaphor. 

Emma’s metaphors regularly sucked, anyway. 

“Pizza or Chinese?”

Chuckling into her stomach, Killian’s laugh warmed her from the inside out and kept the goosebumps there and she’d kind of forgotten he was shirtless. Idiot bastard, that was her.

Graham Humbert had owned more plaid shirts than anyone Emma had ever seen. 

“Order extra egg rolls, and I’m in,” Killian said, finally working her back to the ground and they didn’t move. They stood there. Staring at each other, and conducting more inventory, and Emma could only imagine the penance she’d have to do for keeping her stomach in its correct spot. 

“Deal.”

“She’s in love with him.”

“Which part?” Ruby asked. “How in love Emma is with Jones or whether or not we were acknowledging his shitty dating profile?” 

“Doesn’t have to,” Elsa muttered over the top of her half-empty glass. “It basically broadcasts out of her.”

They took the batteries out of the smoke detector a day later. 

“Either or, I guess.”

Not the safest thing they’d ever done, but Emma kept trying to cook and failing spectacularly and she was certain the people at the Chinese restaurant fourteen blocks away knew their order based solely on the sound of her voice when she called. 

“Does this have a name?”

Slumped as she was over the edge of the bar, Emma barely noticed the lift in Killian’s eyebrows, but that also might have been her tendency to be preoccupied with his mouth and he was smiling at her. Wide. Meaningful—ly. 

Distractingly. 

At some point that afternoon, she’d decided she needed to respond to Graham’s messages. Or, well—keep responding. There’d been some conversation, what might have been construed as flirting if Emma’s thumbs didn’t keep cramping up while they flew across her phone’s keyboard, but that definitely wasn’t a sign either, and the overall lightness in her body was likely a direct result of whatever blue-colored alcoholic concoction Killian had put in front of her forty-seven minutes before. There were gummy—things floating in it. 

Or there had been. 

She’d eaten them. 

Her mouth felt a little numb. 

“What do you think we should call it?”

Propping her chin on her hand made Emma wobble a bit, Killian’s lips twitching again. Idiot bastard asshole. Poor Graham. She was a jerk. And his eyes were getting brighter. 

Killian’s. Not Graham’s. 

She had no idea what Graham’s eyes did. 

“Are you serving me unnamed alcohol?” Emma asked, and she was sure she did not slur her words the way it sounded. 

He shrugged. 

Good thing the holiday season was nearly over. 

And Will’s reaction was far too loud, tossing a towel over his back before he draped himself across Killian’s back, hooking his own chin over that slightly lifted shoulder. “He’s showing off, Em. That’s all it is. Are you going to die, though?”

At the bar. 

“Your tongue is blue.”

Four seats away from Leroy the regular. 

“Don’t move so quickly, Swan,” Killian said, a hand finding her cheek and that was fine. Totally fine. Great, even. Super—

Califragilisticexpialidocious. 

So, she was more drunk than she’d been. Like, ever. 

“Your fault,” she mumbled. Burrowing further into his palm was not an option Emma had, so naturally that’s exactly what she did and Will made another noise. “Something to add, Scar—” Emma paused, lifting an impatient finger when both men in front of her dared to laugh. “—Let, you jerky jerkface.”

“You will find out whenever else does, kid,” Will guaranteed. “And there were at least four different types of rum in that swill he gave you.”

That would have annoyed Belle.

Humming, Will untwisted his limbs from Killian, a different hand finding her cheek and the strands of hair that were hanging over her eyes and she scowled when he tapped her chin. “Trying to impress you,” Will repeated intently.

“Is he—” Emma’s brain couldn’t keep up. Thoughts rushed through her, firing synapses that were only passably functional, and the lights from the jukebox across the room were starting to float in her vision. Pressing her fingers into her cheek, Emma knew the skin there moved, but she also could not feel a single thing and—“You’re laughing at me.”

Her head hurt. Ached, even through the haze she’d only recently evolved into, and Emma hated bowling. Was absolutely God awful at it. The kind of awful that required bumpers whenever they’d gone, and they used to go when they were kids. On New Year’s Eve afternoon, some tradition that Ruth had come up with and David honored, even after he and Mary Margaret had segued into happily ever after, and Emma could count on one hand how many times she’d crested the 100-point mark. 

“I am,” he said, “but you’re also sloshed, so I’m willing to give you a pass. And no.”

She felt oddly similar now. 

Playing a game she wasn’t very good at, with more gutter balls than any self-respecting adult should record. Eight pounds of cylindrical force kept rolling through her, threatening anything in its path, but not hitting what it was supposed to, and she also could have eaten an entire tub of bowling alley snacks right now. 

“Why are fries better in a bowling alley? Like, better than anywhere else.” 

Will’s eyes narrowed. “Better than Shake Shack?”

Blinking continued to be one of Emma’s less impressive reactions, but she was stuck on that bowling ball metaphor and Killian’s arm around her shoulders made it impossible to talk. 

“‘S’totally different.”

“You ready, love?”

“We’re leaving, love,” Killian said, and there was at least part of her that was smart enough to pick on repeat endearments. And then promptly cling to them. In her swollen heart. 

“For?”

“Make sure you brush your tongue too tonight, Em,” Will advised, “otherwise that blue is going to stick.”

Saluting left her more off-balance than she’d been all night, laughter echoing behind them as Killian pulled the door shut and he’d ordered them a car. Emma honestly had no idea how they got in said car, but then they were moving and she was only slightly dizzy and he—

He made another noise, slumping next to her, which made it even easier for Emma to touch as much of him as possible and he didn’t object. She didn’t think he would. Ever, actually. 

“Smell really good.”

God, poor Graham. 

She was the worst. 

David played hockey when he was a kid. 

“Not as such, no,” Killian said, “just thinking we might be able to add something new and—” His shoulder shifted under her cheek, Emma’s soft hum of disapproval making him smile. She still didn’t check. “—Not that we haven’t been making money, but...people gotta have a schtick.”

No sound. Nothing except engines, and there could only be one engine in a car, Emma was fairly positive, so that didn’t really make sense and Killian stared ahead when she tilted her head up. “Sometimes,” Killian admitted softly, “but, uh—like I said, just trying to get something that might help us a little more and weddings are expensive, y’know?”

“Whatever,” Emma groaned, “just—I’m saying it’s a good bar.”

Thinking about melting as often as she was, was starting to become patently ridiculous. 

“You’re trying to come up with ridiculous bachelorette party drinks—”

With such God awful interests in the opposite sex. 

Emma rapped her knuckles against his chest. “To help pay for Scarlet’s wedding?”

The world was a joke. Happy Holidays. 

“You’re not getting ready with Lucas or Elsa or anything tomorrow, are you?”

Huh. No grand slam, then. 

Of all the questions she definitely wasn’t prepared for, that was at the bottom of the list. Emma was not actually making any of these lists. “This isn’t prom.”

Being hungover on New Year’s Eve was one of the crueler jokes the universe had played on her in the last week or so. 

“Yeah, ok,” she said, letting her head drop back to his shoulder and Emma wasn’t sure why it sounded like he exhaled. In something almost like relief. Eyes fluttering the way they were, she must have imagined it, another ridiculous metaphor and even dumber analogy and her groan was especially pitiful when the car stopped. No way her stomach was going to stay where it was supposed to for the rest of the night.

All of Emma hurt, muscles she hadn’t been aware she was in possession of seemingly rising up in revolt of her very existence, and she couldn’t really turn her head. Which endlessly delighted Ruby in a way that was making her reconsider their friendship, and Killian kept glancing in their direction. His arm bumped Emma’s no less than twenty-four times in the car over. 

And for as much as she wanted to crawl under several mountains of blankets and consider all her romantic shortcomings, something in the back of Emma’s mind preened a bit under his flitting gaze, trying not to meet his eyes too often. Only to fail every time — if Ruby’s laughter was any indication, and Will had groaned several times, but he also didn’t appear to be engaged yet and Emma had apologized to Graham that afternoon. 

Through text, though. So it only kind of counted. She wasn’t even sure parts of the messages were English. Her head felt like it was going to snap open, which made the champagne she was practically shotgunning at that point a very bad decision, but she’d been on a roll on that front, so she had no intention of altering course and it was nearly midnight.

“This is depressing,” Ruby announced. “He’s staring again.”

Rolling her eyes was an impossibility if Emma didn’t want to make a spectacle of herself in front of her brother and some of the teachers from Mary Margaret’s school, and Ruby’s date was nice. Had a lot of pictures of her dog on her phone, but nice all the same.

More blinking. Honestly, she was a mess. The teachers kept hogging space on the couch. Killian smiled when he looked at Emma, that time. “Elaborate on that.”

“Are you the dumbest person alive?”

“No, this is just our general opinion of you. Both of you, really. I—are you not almost painfully aware of how in love Killian is with you? Em, he is staring at you. Like, right now. Blatantly. Obviously. Some other adverb.”

“We live together.”

Wide eyes and an impressively straight row of teeth were all the warning Emma got before there was a hand on her shoulder and he smelled just as good as she was hopeful she hadn’t mentioned last night, but that felt like wishful thinking and Emma did not, in fact, eject any bodily fluids when Killian turned her. Victories, she was flush with them. 

“I’m so bad at cooking.”

“Hey,” she breathed, and Ruby groaned so loudly it likely did damage to the ozone layer. 

Frozen to the spot, she tried very hard to regulate her breathing and fix her pulse, and neither thing worked. And then. Something clicked — almost audibly in her brain, and her soul and her heart’s potential for explosion was suddenly something she had to worry about. 

Killian’s lips twitched. “You got a second?”

“Please don’t look at me like that,” Killian murmured. She barely heard him. Not when there were fingers tracing up her side and lingering on the small of her back, and Emma’s head moved her head as slowly as she could. 

If she moved any faster, she’d either fall over or wake up from this very lucid dream and neither of those things were all that positive. 

“Cooking, it’s—I love you a lot, but you are absolutely atrocious at it.”

“You’ve got to stop cooking, love.”

The world stopped. Paused, at least. Gave Emma’s muddled mind a second to catch up, and she’d need several more seconds, but she also wasn’t quite that greedy and Killian’s smile widened. As soon as her fingers curled into his shirt. 

He didn’t move his hands. 

“I—” she stammered. “I am...but we don’t match!”

“What is happening right now?” Emma breathed, only cautiously optimistic she wanted the answer. 

A chorus of angry jeers rained down on them — Will using Robin to keep himself upright while he flipped Killian off with both hands. “Pining piner who pines like a goddamn idiot.”

“Well, I’m fairly in love with you. To an almost ridiculous degree.”

“I do appreciate the cooking effort though,” he added. “But it’s a very old profile, made almost entirely by Scarlet in—”

“I honestly forgot it existed,” Killian continued, “I’ve never used it, really. Just knew that Scarlet had made the thing, and then I ignored the messages and—”

As it was, her fingers were already tight enough that Emma very easily pulled herself up and the hand at her waist helped keep her balanced and they were very good at this. Kissing, specifically. Heads tilted automatically to an angle that made it all too easy for Emma to open her mouth, and Killian’s tongue was even more distracting when it was brushing hers, and someone was groaning, but that might have been her, or possibly him and his hair was soft. Between her fingers. 

“Not as many as you did.”

Breathing was suddenly a secondary concern, and Emma’s lungs had already proved they were basically made of steel, or at least impervious to the flames currently exploding between her ribs and none of that was biologically accurate. 

She never did find out where her pancreas was. 

And she was so busy dealing with the way the solar system appeared to be reordering itself around the pair of them, that Emma didn’t notice the countdown or the metallic crown tossed at her feet. Only that there were eventually cheers and Ryan Seacrest’s face plastered across the TV on the other side of the room, and one of Killian’s hands had worked underneath her shirt. 

The sparkly one that had made his eyes noticeably widen several hours earlier. 

“How did you figure it out?”

[apollos-son]

✎ . . . ❝Sail Away,❞

Rating ; 15+

Pairing ; eventual poly ot8 ateez

Genre ; adventure, fluff, heavy angst, fantasy

Tags ; ateez pirate au, violence, blood, magic, mythical creatures, au of the past

A/N ; some events in this series will be based loosely on events that have occurred in ateez mvs that go along with ateez's story. I say loosely because I'm not reciting what happened in the mvs, I'm taking some of the events and twisting them in an interesting (I hope) way. There are tags that will be added later on, and in specific chapters there will also definitely be trigger warnings, however if there does happen to be anything triggering in chapters that I have mistakenly not labelled with a trigger warning - please let me know so I can add a warning.

Summary ; Kim Hongjoong is a hero reborn, brought back from a war he inevitably died in to defeat the darkness that once left his home, his family and the rest of the world in ruin. It's up to him and his companions to prevail over the most challenging of evils. Will they be able to do it? Or will everything crumble to pieces?

I know this is unlikely but I do ask that you do not copy my work under any circumstances. Do not repost, translate or use my work without permission. Thanks :)

-> The origin chapters

<- previous chapter • next chapter ->

Chapter 1 ⇢ ❝The World Left In Ruin.❞

It was a disaster. Everything that could've gone wrong.. it went wrong. They thought that this would be an easy battle. They thought they would emerge victorious. The preparations, the plans. It all meant nothing now.

There were too many dead bodies to count. Some were scattered individually, showing a soldier who danced alone, on their own paths. Others were in groups, clusters, showing soldiers who were afraid of this beast. Deeply afraid. Rightly so, she thought as she gazed over them. A battle had been lost. Not just a battle, the war had been lost.

。

She wiped the dirt off of her face as she collapsed to her knees. This was the temple, the place where she watched over the humans. Those old walls that had cracks etched in from years gone by, the overgrown plants that were evergreen. Beautiful. Sitting here now, with these eight bodies, the bodies of the heroes, she finally realised something. Destiny realised that it wasn't over yet. This world and that which remains within it was not yet doomed. Her fingers clenched around the cloth cloak that draped over her small body. Yes, she was weak and yes, using the last of her power would prevent her returning to Earth but it was the only way. Her eyes met the cold, dead ones of Kim Hongjoong and she heaved a long, defeated sigh.

Her only hope. Their only hope.

。

[three years later]

Soft brown eyes slowly flutter open, a sense of dreariness and haziness flooding over his body. Everything ached. It felt like hell. His limbs hurt, his head hurt. It took him a while to really see over his surroundings. Where... Where was he? The place was huge, ancient and yet it had a sense of charm that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He wipes his eyes with the palms of his little hands and he tries to stand up. He couldn't remember a thing. Why he was here, what happened before this point, he couldn't even remember his name.

Clumsily, he made his way over to a little pool of water that sat in one of the four corners of the room. He gazed down into the liquid and saw a faded reflection of a pretty boy staring back at him. Blue, fluffy hair, clear skin and beautiful brown eyes. His hands made contact with the cold stone that sealed the water off from the rest of the temple. A voice called something from the distance. Calling out the name of someone.. "Hongjoong"

Reluctantly, he followed that voice, down one of the corridors that the temple had. He observed the walls, every little crack and every little dent. That voice grew louder "Hongjoong, Kim Hongjoong," it sang, as though the name were a sweet melody. "who is that?" he thought "who is this person? Who is Kim Hongjoong?"

The corridor came to an end abruptly. His eyes widened at the sight before him. There were pillars towering over him and gaps between each of them. The fresh smell of air and salt wafted through as he finally got a look at the outside. It was beautiful, but.... it was also nothing but water. Water that stretched as far as the eye could see. No matter which way he looked at the openings,, no land was in sight.

Then, a piercing light came from the centre of the room, causing the boy to shield his eyes away hastily. A mosaic that was stretched across the floor in the centre also lit up. "Kim Hongjoong," the same voice chimed. "Kim Hongjoong, you must hear my call," it repeated.

"Kim... Hongjoong?" The boy replied croakily "I don't know anybody by that name," he said. The voice paused "who are you?" it asked. The boy's brows furrowed and he spoke unsurely "I have no clue,, I just woke up here, I don't remember anything,"

That was the big question, who was he? The light in the room seemed to only glow brighter at his response. "fallen hero,,," it insisted "you are our only hope... the fate of the world rests in your hands,"

Stubbornly, the boy shook his head "m-me? A fallen hero?? But I have no recollection of my past, how can that be?" he asked In desperation. His white button down flowed in the slow breeze and his tongue ran smoothly across his cold lips. The aching that overcame his body had subsided, but only by a short amount.

His eyes drooped closed, his head hurting still yet the pain blossoming through it seemed to slowly but surely fade with every inhale and exhale. His arms extended from each side outwards, taking in the wind and the sun from the outside. Embracing it. Nothing hurt anymore. He was truly alive. It was a feeling like no other. To feel every part of his body again. To feel like himself again. But, who was he? The person standing here, inhaling the vast ocean's salty scent was not the hero the voice called out for. So why did he follow? Questions without answers. Questions that needed answers.

He felt his eyes flicker open again, and the light was gone. Like it was never there. In its place, however, fluttered a golden butterfly. A small creature that held innocence and beauty within its being. The little butterfly perched upon the boy's finger when he reached out to touch it. Its perfect glistening glow was captivating. Warm brown eyes inspect the little insect carefully as it's pretty wings twitched. "what's a small thing like you doing in a place like this?" The boy asked in a soft tone, obviously not expecting an answer.

Wait.. Was it just him or was the butterfly twinkling more than a butterfly should..? Then, before his very eyes, the butterfly seemed to fade away; almost as if it was melting. Now nothing but sparkling dust remained on his fingers. As he rose his hand up to inspect the glittering powder, his hand was set ablaze. With a small gasp, he shook his hand vigorously but the flames merely danced around his fingertips, burning with passion.

。

This new power that surged through his body, he couldn't quite understand what it was. He had spent a while experimenting with it, creating flames, creating plant life, creating light and, perhaps less excitingly and more concerningly, destroying certain things that he touched. It seemed that he had the power of creation and destruction at his fingertips, yet he couldn't quite use it at his will. That was evident by the amount of flowers blooming around him and the amount of plants hugging at his feet. How curious.

The sun's bright light soon fell as the boy experimented continuously with this strange oddity now available to him. It was entertaining, sure, but he felt lonely. The moon's silver luminescence shined down on him as he sat between one of the gaps of the sturdy pillars in the room that was open to the ocean. It was too dark to see a thing elsewhere so it left the small boy to gaze up at the stars.

He still had no idea who he was or how he got here. "Kim Hongjoong" was the only person he knew of but,, he wasn't certain if he was Kim Hongjoong for sure. For now then... Until he gets a solid answer, he'll call himself "Hong"

Hong kicked his legs out a little bit and shivered lightly. His thin clothes weren't really shielding him from the night's cool air. He glamced at his left hand and pressed his lips together, until a flame shortly blazed over his palm. The warmth of the flame soothed him, as his eyelids grew heavy, calling for him to enter a slumber.

Slowly, Hong lowered himself until he was flat on his back, his hands up in the air so he could watch the red and orange embers flare at his fingers. Something then came to mind, what was he to do in this place? Eventually, he'd starve to death, correct? So... He had to figure out how to escape, there must be land somewhere else. For that moment, though, he let himself fall into a slumber. He let those thoughts and those worries drift away for now.

。

Startled, Hong awoke with a start. Something had hit his face. And it was more prominent then a bug or a drop of rain. He sat up and stretched his arms out above him and looked around. To his left, a small scroll of paper sat. That must've been what hit him.

His small hands twitched as he reached for the crisp piece of paper. It was rolled up precisely and wrapped in a red ribbon. Maybe,, just maybe, this could explain to him what was going on. He hastily unravelled the paper and scanned it. His look of hope quickly faded into something that resembled confusion. Words were etched into the paper elegantly, though most of it appeared in a language Hong couldn't quite recognise. Only one part stood out to him. The name. "Park Seonghwa," he whispered. His index finger traced the name in the italic handwriting and sighed. Two names, without meaning.

He stared at the writing for a while, trying to decipher what it was saying. But he could never get past the first sentence, which was clearly written in Korean. "We were written in the stars, by Destiny herself,"

His mind seemed restless, but the sun had not even come up yet. He was using the small light source that the moon gave off. His eyes lifted to stare at the many stars. "written in the stars... what does that mean?" he asked himself solemnly. A small crackle of fire came to his attention and he looked down again only to realise that he was burning the aged paper. "No!-" he squeaked in desperation but before he could do anything, the paper had burnt to a crisp.

Not long after though a figure appeared beside him. A gasp left his lips in shock and he moved himself back, away from the figure that was laying unconscious on the floor. Did,, did he do that? Surely not, that couldn't be possible. He looked over the figure for a moment, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Park... Seonghwa?" he queried quietly.

When the figure's eyes opened abruptly to reveal a pretty blue, Hong gasped again. He had the urge to reach out and touch the person's face, but restrained himself from doing so. "who.. are you?" The figure, that upon closer inspection seemed to resemble a man also, asked with a sense of weariness in his voice.

"I.. don't really know,"

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

Lil taglist:

@atiny-piratequeen @ningnings-plushies @btsheadquarters7 @catboy-dia

[voidstilesplease]

i’ll never wear clothes again

For @sterek-kinkmas​ day 2: Exhibitionism

Tags: Alternate Universe-Human, Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski are the Same Age, Alternate Universe-College/University, Best Friends Stackson, Roommates Derek/Jackson, Humor, Fluff, Mentions of Nudity

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 1,601

"Tell your roommate to fucking wear clothes."

"Tell your roommate to fucking wear clothes," Stiles hisses through the phone, shoving clothes after clothes into his duffel. The response he gets to his complaint is a groan from Jackson.

"This is still going on?" His tone suggests that he's exasperated with the deep rumbling from his throat, but Stiles can hear the undertone of amusement. "Just fuck already, for Christ's sake."

Stiles pulls the phone away from his ears and gapes at it for a second. He scoffs and presses it more firmly to his ears, putting the speaker close to his mouth so Jackson can hear his every word and intake of breath. "How many times," Stiles even stops his packing to wring his other hand and place it on his hips. "must I tell you that I'm never going out with Derek Hale?"

"At least a hundred more in the next 24 hours," Jackson deadpans.

It makes Stiles's agitation grow because, honestly, what kind of best friend would not take this harassment seriously? "Jackson, he's flashing me!" the hand on his hip is now in the air brandishing like a fly swatter. "Whenever I'm over at your apartment, and you're not around - hell, even when you are," he shakes his head. "Derek parades himself naked, putting all that," he gestures wildly in his silent room, having started pacing as well. "rippling, flexing muscles and huge fucking dick on display like a fucking porn star!"

Stiles is not expecting Jackson to be sympathetic to his plight, but he should, at least, show a little concern for Stiles. Instead, what he gets is one of the done/finished/over-and-done-with exhalation that means he's ready to drop the call and leave Stiles to his predicament. Jackson really could show a little care since it's his roommate that's giving Stiles nightmares in both waking and sleeping worlds.

"If you want Derek to stop inviting," there's a sound of a car door shutting close in the backroom and the jingle of keys. "Then stop looking like an interested guest."

Before Stiles can ask what he means by that, Jackson has started the ignition and clicks the disconnect button. He sputters for a moment and then drops his arm with a resigned huff. As usual, Jackson is a useless friend.

Stiles sighs once more and goes back to packing. This weekend is going to be hellish. He's spending a few days at Jackson's place while the heater and ventilation are getting fixed at his second-rate dorm. 

He pulls the sleeves of his red hoodie down on his hands. He's going to die freezing if he doesn't stay over at Jackson's, and there's nowhere else to go. California in winter months are still frequently sunny with a mild temperature, but this is one of those times not covered by the term. It can get frosty when it deems to be. Jackson's apartment is the logical, financially-wise option. But of course, Stiles has to be prepared for Jackson's roommate. Derek is the worst -a flasher and an overall douche. Of course, he was also Stiles's sexual awakening in high school, but that's beside the point.

His hand hovers at the box of condoms on his nightstand. He hesitates, nibbles on his lower lip, grabs the box anyway and stuffs it inside along with his clothes and toiletries. He zips up the duffel bag, hating himself.

He's not an interested guest, and the condoms are not part of his preparations for Derek. Yeah? Okay.

Right.

He picks up his bag, thinks belatedly about stopping by at the pharmacy to buy lube, and hates himself some more.

~•~

But Stiles hates Derek the most.

Also, Jackson, because where the hell is he?

Stiles has been in the apartment for five hours, but the asshole hasn't gone back from the university yet. Stiles knows he should be back by now, but he's not even responding to text messages. It's like he vanished on purpose.

Now, Stiles is stuck sitting stiff as a board on the couch in front of the TV, absently watching a show he doesn't even like. Derek is on the far end of the same couch, cozy, and very relaxed like he's not lounging about in his tight underpants and plastering his bulge and abs all over the place, the fucking exhibitionist.

Stiles pointedly trains his eyes on the screen, seeing motions but not comprehending them. All he can focus on is the loud hammering in his chest and the stirring low in his stomach. He's getting bothered just by Derek's proximity. Jesus, it is embarrassing even for his standard. It was probably forgivable when he was sixteen, having his first sexual fantasies about the unattainable, out-of-his-league lacrosse star Derek Hale. But Stiles had survived high school, his hopeless crush, and Derek toying his feelings wearing a straight face. He's a big college boy now, who has gotten rid of his spectacles, might still flail a little, but has gotten the attention of a few people. He shouldn't be falling back into the Derek Hale bandwagon; he was over that.

"Are you okay?"

Derek's voice startles him. Stiles jerks back wide-eyed as he turns to Derek's drawn eyebrows. His throat catches, he clears it, and then says in a hopefully even tone, "Yeah."

"You're sweating,"

Stiles is sweating in the forehead; he usually is when he's nervous, tense, or aroused. It isn't all that fulfilling to note that he's all three currently. He averts his eyes back on the screen, "Something must be off with your air-conditioning."

In his peripheral, Stiles can see the smirk on Derek's stupidly gorgeous face. God, Stiles hates people like him. They know they're attractive, confident with their toned bodies, exuding sex-appeal, and they make others twitch in their seats uncomfortably, racing with their heartbeats and gasping for air. Oh, and sweltering at 80°F.

"I'm sure that's not the case,"

Stiles must have imagined the suggestive tone when Derek says it because there's no way, right? He ponders for a second before shifting back to face him. Derek's staring at him, shamelessly, blatantly running his eyes all over his flushing face. Stiles's pulse quickens at the hooded looks.

Derek's eyes meet his again, "If the heat is bothering you," he starts, lips stretching to a small smile. "You should take off your clothes."

He's too stunned inside, but he forces himself to face away once again, feeling his skin beginning to burn. "Not all of us have washboard abs to show off."

"Your body's fine," Derek says offhandedly, but Stiles is tingling from the words.

"How can you know?" He tries to sound indifferent, but the pitchy quality of his voice is not helping his case. "You haven't seen me."

Two beats pass, then, "So, show me."

Stiles can't whirl his head fast enough. He gapes at Derek's serious expression. "Is that-" he sputters, surprised. "Are you-"

Derek cocks his head to the side, "Finally catching up?"

He gapes in disbelief; even his breathing falters. Words escape him for a moment. Then, he exhales, "What are you saying?"

Derek adjusts in his position, moving closer to Stiles. This near, Stiles can see the nervous tick on his jaw, which -unreal. Derek Hale doesn't know anxiety. He's the epitome of arrogance and narcissism and unwavering confidence.

Derek's green eyes settle on his dull browns, "I don't strut around naked for just anybody."

Stiles's eyes stray down to Derek's red lips and lock there. He licks his lips, instinctual, "Well, why didn't you ask?"

A bashful expression crosses Derek's features. He ducks his head a little, "I tried. You rejected me."

At this, Stiles rears away, incredulous. "Rejected you?" He puffs a laugh. "Me, turn you down? In what universe, Derek?"

Derek's brow draws together, looking confused. "In senior year," he tells him like it's obvious. "I asked you to go on dates with me," a shadow passes his face, lips curling downward. "You sneered at me every time."

He hears his jaw hitting the floor, remembering all those times, but dismissing them as Derek's asshole antics, "You were serious?"

Now, Derek looks offended, even hurt. "I sent you notes, blackmailed Jackson for your number, asked you in the middle of the cafeteria, even went to your house one time -how did you think I wasn't?"

Stiles sags on the couch, shocked and disoriented at the turn of events. When he is composed enough, he lifts his eyes back to Derek's expectant gaze. "So, you decided to," he gestures at Derek's lack of clothing. "Strip for me?"

At this, the smirk returns. "It seems to be working," Derek points out, glancing brazenly at Stiles's middle, where his boner is apparent.

He gets flustered but doesn't deny it. There's no point in pretending he isn't affected. Stiles laughs breathily, "Fuck, you have no idea."

It must be the correct answer because Derek's face breaks out in a cheeky expression. "Then, I reiterate," Derek moves to his feet, and stands before Stiles in all his half-naked glory, boxers tenting. It's the most covered he's been since this whole shenanigans started. Stiles's mouth waters at the view, and he swallows conspicuously, Derek watching the movement of his throat. His green eyes darken when he tips Stiles's chin up to bring their gazes together. "Show me."

***

"Wait, Jackson knows?"

"Yes. I blackmailed Jackson again so he'd stay out tonight. Or he can come home and watch, I don't care. Now, will you please get back to what you were doing with your tongue?"

"Traitor,"

"Stiles."

"Oh, fine."

"Yeah, that's -ah. Yeah. I'll never wear clothes again."

~•~