#but i AM gonna defend other people who have the same features that you made fun of

[mime-rodeo]

since when did we decide it's okay to comment on a person's appearance just because they are problematic? don't get me wrong, i hate bigoted assholes too. but bodyshaming them isn't the way to solve this problem because newsflash: there may be other people with the features you're making fun of, who sees this and feels insecure about themselves.

if a person did something wrong, address their actions, NOT their appearance. i see so many people preaching about how wrong bodyshaming is but the moment someone (usually men) does something problematic, they have no qualms in calling them ugly or making small dick jokes.

again, this is not about hurting the problematic person. they may not deserve sympathy. but by insulting a certain feature, you are insulting everyone in the world who has that feature. by fatshaming one problematic person, you are implying that all fat people are problematic and therefore deserving of insults.

also, you're just missing the entire point. instead of addressing the actual problem, you are implying that this person is bad because they are ugly, or vice versa. it's just disgusting. it's 2023, i thought we were better than this.

besides, bodyshaming is the laziest form of insult. you just look at something on the surface level, something a person has no control over, and go "haha ugly". you could get a lot more out of insulting their personality and actions, you know, the thing that deserves calling out?

[jovenshires]

i did it, i read the whole thing in a day i'm not a sportsy gal, i have asthma, and was always bad playing whatever, also i'm not really competitive, so not usually a universe that calls me, you know. But we are spommy simps, what can I do. Also, big fan of your stories, and a fan of a rival to lovers trope. I just had to. Loved everything about it. At the end, i also got emotional over a bunch of fictional teens playing soccer. Coach Amanda? I'm here for it. Bonus that i'm contemplative because new years, 2024 i'll have some mor leadership responsabilities at work and i'm kinda not feeling myself so, yeah, spence, i feel you. The whole story put my mind in a good place. And I can barely wait for all the spin offs and all other stuff I know you will post as well. Like, you could share the charts mapping you said you had, and what was your thinking process behind some stuff like who as goind to be in each team and so on.

!!!!!!! this is SO so kind omg this made my whole day :')

i am no longer sporty so i totally understand you!!! im honestly shocked people read this at all LKNDFLKSNGKLNR but im honored yall did <3 thank you so, so, SO much. trust me i am emotional about the cheetahs at all times......... they are everything to me i love that dynamic. and yes im the same about all the responsibilities!!!! KALFNLKFNNR you know me so well - there's a prequel and two sequels planned ! (at least. idk where else we'll go but i Know those are in the works <3)

OH well if you insist..... @spencersagnew also asked me for this in a comment on ao3 so i suppose.... (i am dying to talk about it for the love of god). i will say if you're interested..... a lil edit might be dropping tonight that also says some of this stuff. IF you wanna wait for that. anywho all the info-dumping lore under the cut:

okay SO. i have all of the positions for the main two schools AND all the other schools charles/sorrow played. i will just post this for now but if you want other shit (ages and why i chose them, explanations on the positions, all the easter eggs, why i chose the school names, all the minor school MASCOTS bc the devil works hard but i work harder, etc. whatever you want i will never stop talking ab this fic) pls let me know.

ANYWAY. main cast:

and minor cast:

as for who went on what team - i built the Main Friend Groups first (spencer/damien/shayne/alex and tommy/keith/chanse), then built the cheetahs (bc i knew this was gonna be spencer's pov), and then the pirates!!

i knew i wanted shayne as like... spencer's confidant, his right hand man, etc. so he was the basis. and where shayne goes (and where my relationships/dynamics developed), damien goes. and alex was ORIGINALLY going to be the only person spencer could stand from the other team but. things got moved around and yk i love the games pod squad. so that was the core of that!!

after that, i also decided who i wanted to be in tommy's lil friend group. i Knew i wanted keith there - underrated duo tbqh. i also put him there as a parallel / equal to damien, the two who tried their best to bridge the teams together. keith is a Bitch but he's also a people person so he just made sense to me for the pirates. the pirates... i could only describe their energy as cunty. like they're all assholes in the opposite way of the cheetahs. the cheetahs are fight first ask questions later, and the pirates are gonna study you and then deconstruct all of your insecurities to cut you down. so very keith to me !

chanse was also included bc 1. that is his energy come on, and 2. he's. he's tommy but again. like joven is to tommy as tommy is to chanse. like obviously he's different but he's there to parallel that relationship. that's his best friend, his pseudo older brother, his mentor!! chanse is THE number one tommy bowe defender. period.

okay so onto the cheetahs. i knew i wanted to feature..... whatever patrick and jeremy have going on. i also thought they had pretty contrasting personalities to the four i was starting with. (jeremy in particular became... smth so personal. iwks!jeremy is his own entity. i am OBSESSED with him you guys have no idea. thats my lil best friend i wanna keep him on a shelf.) then i was like 'ykw they need. a third buddy who is so tired of their shit and yet has nowhere else to go.' my apologies to ify bc he has to suffer <3 he's so himbo trapped as the third wheel coded okay and someone has to be there for alex next year !

i started assigning positions next. and i decided i wanted spencer as a midfielder and he needed like. a partner. an equivalent. and i ended up going with brennan bc that just made so much sense to me. it needed to be someone spencer trusts, someone who he could communicate with in silence. brennan may be quiet but like he's a killer. i also just wanted some more people spencer's close with - like rock, who he's worked with like forever. rock is also just. the most sane insane person to me. like his sense of humor is fucking crazy but also if he thinks you're being dumb he WILL tell you to stfu.

tim also kind of falls into this 'people spencer gets along with' category, but honestly. this was pure selfishness. i just love tim. the bit where he didn't speak the entire time gave ME personally a really good chuckle. he's an icon and also as someone who played defense/goalie, i was biased choosing my defense/goalies. and i think tim is just such a good pick for goalie there i said it thats my guy. marcus however was pure selfishness. i needed a silly lil freshman. i chose my bud marcus. he's one of my fave Background characters in this fic because everyone's like "well........... after what happened Last Year.........." and marcus is like haha! so true! what happened :) like there's not a clue in his fucking head he just loves his captain and i love HIM for that

and then the pirates were a combo of Who Was Left and who i wanted to feature. i liked this idea of aguilar as a mythic mean bitch who's always lurking. garrett of course had to get a shoutout (my beloved goalie <3<3<3 imagine how HE FEELS letting in that final goal rn huh). and shoutout to all the guys i didn't really cover but who i think about all the time - luke being a dry humored asshole, duran banging his head against the wall, josh and peter So Scared of the atmosphere but happy to be a part of something. i love them all their dynamic is also funny to me in my brain where it lives <3

ty so so much for giving me an excuse to lore dump i adore you <3<3<3

[theeccentricmrwinter]

maybe if you watched more cocomelon you'd have more empathy for people who go on anon. you're learning and growing but also you're being really toxic rn and i can't let that slide tbh

Hey there.

It appears you are mistaken about my anon policy.

There's a reason I leave it on. Several reasons, actually. Because I do care and accommodate those who want to use it for whatever reason.

However, if all you're gonna do is use the anonymous feature to send hate my way, I believe I deserve the right to call whoever is doing so a coward. Anon hate is not a new thing to me, or to this site. It's a big reason a lot of blogs have turned anon asks off, or just turned asks off altogether.

I, however, believe in practicing what I preach. The ability to take what you dish out. If I can throw insults at people, they can do the same to me, and it's the same the other way around.

So, anon, you must understand that, when I kindly leave my door open so that people may enter, and they choose to use this chance to barge in and yell insults at me because I disagreed with someone that isnt them on a very minor issue with an overall correct argument, why am I in the wrong for hurling insults back?

Is it because you don't like insults about anons in general? Because I make it clear that it's just hate anons that get this kind of treatment, because you should at least have the gall to show your face when you try to shoot me.

Is it how deep I rip into people? Because I find it only fair if they shoot first to hit back, and harder. Most certainly when they hide themselves under anonymity.

Or is it because these anons are your friends? That you somehow know them, despite them being anonymous?

Maybe it's the same reason I replied to that post in the first place, to defend someone who may have came off as brash and harsh, but hopefully meant well.

However, I quickly run out of patience when all good faith arguments have been thrown out the window for a goo barrage of "fuck yous" from people "banned for being based", or people who throw my point in my face and expect me to be mad about it.

Because you're right. Maybe, somehow, if Cocomelon is children's programming meant to instill long-lasting lessons of morality and various other things a child needs to learn, while also not being too condescending towards the viewers (as older audiences who may have forgotten what lessons these shows have to teach may not sit happily throigh them, and also it's not cool to condescend to children unnecessarily), than yeah, I have no choice but to agree.

However, I think my empathy levels for anon users are just right. Fully empathetic, unless you use that tool to try and hurt someone, in which you have lost all sympathy from me, because of my own internal policies that dictate who I deem as good and who I deem as bad.

But even ignoring my moral compass, if you seriously advocate for people to use anon to try and hurt others, and think my ripping into people who do this is wrong? I don't really want you around anyway.

The only reason I haven't ripped into you, dear anon, is that I try to take the best approach I can with things like this. Maybe, you mean this genuinely. Maybe you're a mutal who I care deeply about seeing on my dash. Maybe you're just someone who enjoys my reblogs. I value all above myself, that's for sure. So I want you to know, anon.

I don't try to hurt people who I deem as innocent. I try my best to take a positive approach when I can. In fact, usually, I don't do more than scroll and quuck-reblog posts.

So I hope you trust me when I say things like; I don't harbor any malice towards the OP of that one post everyone has issue with for some reason. I even agree with his main point, I just feel like if you're gonna dig into a very popular show, expecting backlash is reasonable. I made a comment that I figured was repeated already (which it was), and would be ignored, and the fact that it wasn't sucks. But I also made something that can result in backlash. And I received alright. But that's alright, because that's how getting in a fight works. I'm just left wondering why a bystander, who hopefully has good intentions, is objecting to the guys that are fighting online trying to find every aspect to make fun of their opponent.

I gotta cut this rant off somewhere, so here's where I leave it: If you're really serious about my inherent toxicity towards those who use anon to hide their face to try and hurt me, please message me so we can work this out if we're mutals and/or if you're brave enough, or keep sending anons, because i do respect privacy in delicate matters. I'll call ya tbh anon if ya choose that route. However, if this is just another person throwing words I've used in my face to try and make me mad, you have failed. I'm just disappointed in myself that I put so much good faith in you. But hopefully you meant well.

Til next time, tbh anon. Be seeing you,

Snow of the Cat Cafe System, AKA The Great Canadian Kbitty

[vendettaparker]

What a Dumbass [P.P]

Summary: Peter’s mistake leads to you being injured. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Swearing, like a substantial amount, suggestive content kinda, gun shot wound, and flustered!Peter 

a/n: I really liked writing this. I couldn’t stop laughing at some of the dialogue. and the mistake peter made to cause the whole set-up of the story is so funny to me. like i can legit see him making this mistake. also, i’m gonna make a permanent tag list, so please send me an ask or message me if you want to be on it! <3

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter Benjamin Parker is a fucking dumbass. All the time mostly. Most of the time his dumbassery leads to a lot of annoyed avengers, a lot of clean up, and a lot of spilled secrets. Hence why like three people who definitely shouldn’t know he is Spider-man do. But every once in while his idiocy can lead to an unexpected happily ever after, at least until he fucks something up again. 

     This particular fuck up has yet to be determined as a happy accident or your new 13th reason. It all started when that spider bitch decided it’d be a good idea to watch some explicit content on his laptop. Now, this wasn’t particularly an unknown activity for him to partake in, since we all know about his little impromptu purchase in Germany, but unbeknownst to this dork, his aunt was in the next room over working on a tear in his suit. And to make matters worse, he accidentally just so happened to purchase a subscription using said aunt’s credit card that was pre-setup in his laptop. 

     Now May is a very understanding woman. Very sex-positive, very loving, and inclusive; the whole shebang really. So when she happened to catch this idiot doing what he most certainly shouldn’t have been doing, she wasn’t mad, just thoroughly disturbed. Then she got the notification about the purchase. That was a bit more taboo in her eyes. So Peter was grounded from patrolling for a week and his laptop privileges were revoked for two weeks. That was fucking merciful compared to what this whole fuck up put you through. 

     At the school that following Monday, Peter spent the whole first, second, fourth, and lunch period trying to convince you to take over patrol for a week. Sure, you could definitely handle it, not to pat yourself on the back or anything, but you were significantly stronger than Peter, so it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But you just really didn’t want to. Peter had his ‘Peter Tingle’ to help him find danger, while you’d actually have to look. It just seemed harder for you to do than it would be for him. 

     “Why are you even grounded?” You sighed after Peter's 3rd time bringing up the possibility of you patrolling for him at lunch. 

     “He got caught watching and buying p—” Ned started laughing.

     “Ned! Shut up!” Peter yelled, slapping his hand over his friend's mouth. 

     “How has your identity not been leaked yet, Jesus Christ.” You mumbled, giggling. You flipped through your chemistry textbook, writing notes to prepare for Friday’s quiz. 

     “Yeah, and how come you didn’t know May was home?” Ned pushed Peter’s hand away. “Where was your ‘Peter Tingle’ then?” 

     “She’s not a threat, dude. But shit, I really wish my tingle detected her.” Peter groaned, a deep blush covering his features. “Please (Y/N). I really, really don’t wanna leave Queens without any protection for a week. I’ll try to convince May to let me go out on the weekend, so really it’s only five days.” 

     “I guess I could help you out, but you owe me. I should really spend this time studying for my chemistry test. Iron bitch is gonna have my head on a spike if I fail another chem test.” You said, highlighting more notes. 

     “Okay! Delmar’s for a week, anytime, anywhere.” Peter said putting his hand out for you to shake. 

     “Make it a month, I know my worth.” 

     Peter hesitated, but eventually gave in, “Fine, but you better do a good job.” 

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     So now you were stuck patrolling from 8:30 to 11:00 every night. It wasn't bad per se, and nothing too eventful happened. You stopped a small convenience store robbery, gave a few kids some tips at the skatepark, ran some errands for an old lady, and saved a cat from a tree. Thursday night was the real kicker though. Your night had barely started and you accidentally got in the middle of a drug deal between some smaller mob and a real messed-up junkie. This should’ve been an easy takedown, only six people in total that needed to be taken out, but like was mentioned before, you don’t have Peter’s goddamn, stupid fucking tingle. So after taking all six of the perps out you started to walk away after alerting the police. Unfortunately, one of those assclowns had come to, and grabbed the gun a few feet away from him and shot it towards you. The bullet went through your thigh and out the other side. Screaming in shock and pain, you used your own throwing knives and knocked the gun out of the mobster’s hand, then you proceeded to knock him out again with a few good punches to his noggin, maybe a few more, just for good measure. But this wound would need to be cleaned and stitched up. And if you went back to the Tower, Steve and Tony would give you an earful about “watching your surroundings” and “being more careful”. So in a moment of pure adrenaline and desperation, you texted Peter. 

You: are you home

Spider-Dork: Yeah, why?

You: i’ll be there in 5 

Spider-Dork: What? Why? Is everything ok?

Spider-Dork: Hello??? (Y/N)????

(Y/N) declined (3) calls 

Spider-Dork: Answer my calls idiot. 

     Peter’s texting and constant calling was cut short from a crash in his room. 

     “(Y/N)? Is that you?” Peter called from the couch in the living room. 

     “Yeah, can I borrow a t-shirt?” You called, fumbling around accidentally knocking over another lamp. “Oops, sorry!”

     “Uh, yeah sure. In the closet!” Peter called back pausing his show, prepared to make his way over to you. 

     “And some sweats?” You called back, blood dripping all over Peter’s hardwood floor. 

     Peter got up to make his way to his room. “Yeah, second drawer on the left side.” He said as he made his way to his bedroom. Knowing you were in there, most likely changing, he knocked. “You decent?” 

     “Nope, not really. I need a pair of your boxers too, though.” You called through the door, now seeing that the blood splattered on your underwear as well. “Also, bring the first aid kit when you come in.” 

     ‘What? Why?” Peter said in a more stressed tone, pushing his way into the room, completely ignoring the fact that you were very much not decent. “Holy shit.” He said seeing you out of your suit, in your bra and underwear, blood dripping down your right leg, pooling onto the floor. Your hand, red and bloody, pressed onto what he only assumed was the wound and blood seeping through your fingers. 

     “Bring a mop too.” 

     Peter ran out of the room to grab the first aid kit, plus some extra bandages and a cleaning solution. When he came back in he found you in the same state, standing in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed in pain, clutching your right thigh. 

     “What the hell happened?” He gasped, motioning for you to sit on his bed. You hesitated, not wanting to mess up his sheets. He seemed to notice your thought process quickly adding, “I have to wash my sheets anyway.” 

     “Gross.” You mumbled, scrunching up your face in disgust and finally settling down on his bed. 

     “Move your hand and tell me what happened,” Peter said kneeling on the floor next to the bed, positioned right at your hips. You removed your hand, bloody instantly seeping onto the bed. Peter winced looking at the hole in your leg, quickly grabbing the peroxide and dumping heaps of it onto your leg, much to your distaste. 

     “I got shot.” You stated as he cleaned the blood around the hole with alcohol pads.

     “Well, no shit. I mean by who and how?” 

     “Mobster. Sneaky bitch got me while I was walking away.” You winced as Peter inspected the wound further. 

     “I need to stitch this up. Did it go all the way through?” He said lifting your leg to look underneath for an exit wound. 

     “Yeah.” Peter found the exit wound and held your leg up with one hand, pouring peroxide on the back of your thigh with the other. 

     “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)! This looks really nasty.” Peter scolded, setting your leg back down and prepping the needle and sutures. “What if this was in your chest? Or—or if you didn’t get here in time? You could’ve bled out!” 

     “Well sorry that I don’t have your stupid tingle to help me out when I’m being fucking shot at!” You yelped, gripping the bedsheets. 

     “You don’t need spidey sense, you need fucking common sense,” Peter mumbled, stitching his first suture.

     “What the fuck did you just say?” You looked at him incredulously. 

     “I— uh, nothing.” Peter huffed, focusing back on stitching you up.

     “This is your all your fault, to begin with!” You accused, shifting uncomfortably, due to the needle constantly being stuck into your leg. “You’re the one that begged me to go on patrol for you! You’re the dumb bitch that got caught watc—” 

     “Ok! Shut up! For God’s sake, you’re never gonna let me live that down.” Peter groaned, finishing up the last stitch. “Flip over.” He commanded, pushing at the side of your waist to help with the movement. 

     “Well, it was fucking dumb. Don’t you check to make sure nobody’s home? God, we all know you’re a vocal bitch too.” You said, fully situated on your stomach. 

     “What the fuck is that suppose to mean!?” He gasped, prepping another needle. 

     “You’re a sensitive boy.” You shrugged, wincing when Peter started his next stitch. 

     “I-I am not sensitive! I’m emotionally and physically staunch!” He defended, going in for another stitch. 

     You just raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Sure, whatever you say, babe.” You winked at him, blowing an exaggerated kiss. 

     “You're a jerk,” Peter mumbled, finishing up his stitching job. “A jerk with a fucked up leg.” 

     You hummed, quite amused. Peter got up and started to collect his medical supplies. He shuffled out of the room to put everything away. When he returned you were trying to get up and walk, wincing at every slight movement. 

     “Here, let me just—” Peter lifted you up, bridal style. A small yelp coming from you when a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Sorry.”

     “It’s fine. Can you help me get dressed?” You said as he walked you over to his desk and set you down in his desk chair. 

     “Sure.” Peter blushed, painfully aware of your lack of clothes. He picked out some clothes from his closet and drawers. He helped you into them, wallowing in the uncomfortable silence, taking in each whimper and wince from you whenever he brushed against your thigh. 

     “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He sighed after you were all dressed. “This is my fault.” 

     You looked at his distraught face, feeling bad for initially blaming him for the events of tonight. “No, Pete. It’s fine. I should’ve made sure all of the guys were knocked out.” You put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

     “No, I should’ve been more careful when I was watching that stuff. I have my spidey sense, I would’ve been able to avoid getting shot. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get bit by a radioactive spider.”

     “Pete, really, I’ll be better by next week anyway. It’s fine.” 

     Peter shook his head, sighing. “I just feel so bad, I shouldn’t have forced patrolling on you.” You hugged him and rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s my fault you got hurt.” 

     “Peter stop. It’s just an unfortunate accident.” You mumbled, hugging him closer. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

     “But it didn’t happen to just anyone (Y/N), it happened to you. And I caused it. I-I don't know what I’d do if something ever happened to you. What if it was worse?”

     You sighed, pulling away from Peter and cupping his face, seeing the regret and shame pooling in his eyes. Without much thought, you pulled him closer, slowly connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Truly getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the feeling of perfection. 

     Peter’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, before he was kissing you back, reveling in the feeling he’s been dreaming about for months. You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter flushed at your actions, unable to stop the wide smile crossing his features. 

     “Sorry,” You mumbled sheepishly, “just needed to shut you up for a second.”

     “Maybe I should talk more, just to see what happens,” Peter smirked, pulling you in for another shorter, but just as sweet, kiss. 

     You hummed against his lips. “I really like you. Even when you're a dumbass.” You sighed against his lips.

     “The feeling is mutual.” 

     “Rude. I’m not a dumbass.” You gasped in faux offense. 

     “You’re the one with a bullet wound.” he deadpanned 

     “You’re the one who got caught watchin—”

     “(Y/N)!”

[priortoallthoughts]

Don’t Mess With the Commander’s Caf

(or do, because it’s gotten you this far)

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Commander Fox x afab!reader

Warnings: Mild swearing; gets a bit spicy at the end but nothing explicit.

Summary: What is supposed to be a night out at 79s turns into a night in the drunk tank, and the morning starts a startling new relationship with a certain Coruscant Guard Commander. All over a cup of caf.

// [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Masterlist

A night out in Coruscant is never complete for you without going to the clone bar, 79s. You may pre-game somewhere else, but you always end up there, recognizable as one of their regulars. You love the atmosphere, honestly. It’s so jovial, just vode – and weren’t you surprised when you found out that clones spoke a different language with each other – coming to forget the war for a night. Living life as much as they could. You’ve picked up a few words of theirs purely because you hear them so often. Many a curse word too, which are your favorites.

And they were about to be put to good use.

You’re already buzzed and walking with a group of grey-clad troopers that had pulled you into their group when they saw you walking alone. You chat easily with them even though you never met them before. That’s the funny thing about being sociable when you’re sober – you’re even more chatty when you drink. And giggly apparently, considering you couldn’t stop laughing at the mission gone wonky they were telling you about.

When 79s came into view your smile widens. There really is nothing like the neon lights and bass you can already hear resonating from inside. Were there probably millions of places just like in on Coruscant already? Sure. But there isn’t anywhere aside from 79s you could find this kind of ambiance.

There is one downside that pisses you off like no other though.

There’s yelling coming from over by the speeder-way and when you look over, another civilian is getting in the face of a Coruscant guard member. The frown the graces your face feels wrong after laughing so much, but you can’t help it. You pause in your tracks. Usually when you see this kinda shit it deescalates fairly quickly, but this civilian is getting louder and more violent the more the (admittedly nervous acting) guard tried to calm him down.

“Hey.” A hand lands on your shoulder and you look up to see one of your group. “We can’t do anything. The punishment would be too harsh and that civvie chakaar won’t even get a slap on the wrist.”

Your frown turns into a snarl. “You can’t do anything.”

Fishing your flask out of your jacket pocket you take a swig before shoving it into the chest of the closest trooper. The steady click of your heels is the only thing you can hear over the growing volume of yelling.

“Hey! Shabuir in the stupid shirt!” Your own yell interrupts.

You have exactly one second to reconsider things before you think about all the vitriol this jackass is spewing at the guard for nothing. The sound of your fist hitting his face is the most satisfying thing you’ve heard tonight, along with the yelp he lets out when he hits the ground.

“What the kriff is your problem, bitch?!”

“You talking shit about this trooper is my problem!”

He turns towards the guard again and the trooper flinches. “I want her arrested for battery!”

You lean down to grab his collar and shake him out. “Oh, so now you want him to do his job? The one you were just belittling him for? Can’t have it both ways, chakaar!”

“Let go of me!”

You drop him so suddenly that his head cracks against the ground. He scrambles to his feet and points a finger at you. “You’ll regret this! They’re nothing but meat-droids!”

“Say that again, you little pissant. I dare you.” You go to take a step forward but he’s already running away. A hand on your shoulder again makes you look over to the one you defended.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” And he does sound sorry. “I will have to take you in tonight. I… can’t ignore you attacking someone right in front of me.”

You smile at him. “No problem, trooper. Do your job; I don’t want you getting in trouble.” You offer your wrists to him and next thing you know they’re in a pair of binders behind your back and you’re being placed in the back of a speeder.

“A night in the drunk tank should sort you out.”

The smile you give him is blinding, because not only do you know that’s not the proper booking for what you just did, at least you look cute while you’re being taken away.

---

When you wake up in your cell (lucky you’re the only one there) you’re beyond tired and in desperate need of some caf. You can’t function without it in the morning.

There’s a guard member who lets you out not long after you get up. You follow him like a zombie. Presumably he’s leading you out of all the twisting hallways, but you stop short when your nose picks up the distinct smell of caf.

But not just any caf. You know the smell of Death Wish anywhere.

Your favorite.

You follow your nose to a mess hall – sparsely populated but still enough that everyone stops what they’re doing to look at you as you make your way to the caf machines in the back. You’re basically falling asleep as you walk so you don’t notice. Maybe you should care, considering you’re still wearing your clubbing outfit from last night, but no, you don’t actually care.

When you get there you see two different machines. One is labeled with some cheap, generic caf name and the other is simply “Fox’s Starfighter Fuel.”

You grab a flimsi cup and fill it with the second one. No cream. No sugar.

No life, only caf.

You finally notice how deathly quite it is as you take your first sip and turn around. There’s one trooper standing in front of you, helmet tucked under his arm, and the most severe look you’ve ever seen before gracing his features. You look him over with half-lidded eyes, noticing he’s dressed differently than the others, and casually take another sip of caf.

“You must be Fox.”

“Civilians aren’t allowed in this part of the building, who let you in here?”

Still waiting for the caf to kick in, you shrug. “Spent the night in the tank. No one stopped me when I walked in.”

Fox turns to glare at everyone sitting at the tables. They all look down at their food like they weren’t obviously watching and someone starts whistling.

“You need to leave,” he says when he turns back around.

“Can I finish my caf first?” You ask, taking more sips hoping to stall.

He glowers even more. “That’s not even your caf!”

“Shame.” You chug the rest of the still mostly full cup and coughs wrack your chest when you finish. “I think I just burned my esophagus,” you rasp.

“Get out.”

“That’s completely fair.”

You toss your cup in the trash on the way out. Turning the way you were going before you got distracted, you make your way to the exit; no need to bring the wrath of Fox down on you for sticking around. You feel like, once again, you get off light and dont’t want to press your luck. The smile that graces your face as you step outside is probably a strange thing for anyone else to see considering you’re walking out of jail, but you had a good night, and the morning is shaping up to follow suit.

---

The next day you walk into the caf shop you normally stop at on the way to work. The barista behind the counter waves as you walk up. “Your usual, hun?”

“You know me,” you smile brightly, “but, uh, can you make it two?”

Her eyes widen. “I can’t imagine the morning you’re expecting to have!”

You laugh and wave her off. “Nothing bad. I owe someone a cup.”

“You mean someone else drinks this sludge?”

“Imagine my surprise. And it’s not that bad!”

She places two large flimsi cups in front of you. Your hands rub together nervously before you get your thoughts together. “Can I borrow your marker?”

She hands it to you with a raised eyebrow and you quickly scribble a few words on one of the cups. It isn’t a lot, and it completely gives away who you are without having to sign your name, so you hope it’s okay.

“Thanks, gotta run!” You scurry out of the door before the barista can ask anything about what you’re doing.

You aren’t even sure yourself if you were being completely honest. The Coruscant Guard building is a little out of your way from your route to work, but you leave early in the mornings anyway, so you can still make it in time even with the detour. You feel a bit nervous walking in this time. Where did all your confidence from yesterday go?

You flag down the first trooper you see that doesn’t look busy.

“Can you give this to Fox, please?” You hold out the cup for him to take.

He doesn’t.

He only stands there, and you imagine he’s making a face behind his helmet because he doesn’t say anything either.

After a few seconds of silence you lower the cup awkwardly. “Uhh, oh, sorry, am I allowed to bring caf?”

“Why are you bringing the Commander caf?” He finally asks.

You squeeze the cups so much the tops almost pops off. “Fox is a commander?”

“Commander Fox is head of the Coruscant Guard, ma’am.”

The top of your own cup does pop off this time, but nothing spills.

“The entire guard?” You squeak.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Heat is quick to crawl up your face. “Oh stars, I can’t believe I took his caf.” Your internal panic is quickly becoming external as you try not to drop either cup. You hid your face behind one in embarrassment.

“Wait.” The guard member tilts his head. “You’re the one they were talking about yesterday? The girl from the mess hall?”

There’s a few second where nothing but incomprehensible noises come out of your mouth, but you finally get out, “how many people know about that?!”

“It’s made its way around.”

“I’m gonna - kriff - go throw myself off the senate building I swear-“

You’re cut off by the sound of a chuckle and you snap your head up to see the guard member’s shoulders shaking. “So you’re not trying to poison the Commander, huh?”

“No!” You yelp, but quiet down after you see others turn to look at you. “I was just trying to repay the caf I drank! We like the same kind!”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Can you please just give this to him before I die of embarrassment? You’re killing me here!”

He laughs again and finally takes the cup from your shaking hands. “Who should I say it’s from?”

You slap a hand over your face to hide your grimace. “At this point I’d rather not tell you. I want to keep some of my dignity intact,” you mutter.

“Nobody’s dignity is intact here, ma’am.”

“Oh… joy.”

“You best be on your way then.”

He is giving you an out and you’re taking it in full.

“Have a good day,” you say as you turn, the only proof you’ve been there being one guard member and a note on a flimsi cup.

“Sorry for taking your caf yesterday.”

---

One week later you find yourself standing outside of the caf shop, once again with two cups in hand through no fault of your own. It makes you think that maybe another trip to the Coruscant Guard building wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Why waste a perfectly good drink after all?

You pause immediately when you step through the door, because the man you’re looking for is standing across the room talking to someone with a datapad in hand. The decision on whether to interrupt is made for you when the person he’s talking to looks over and spots you.

He waves and Fox finally looks over as well, tilting his head as he does so. You take a deep breath before walking over to them.

“Caf girl!”

You raised your eyebrow at the other trooper. “I really am known around here for that, aren’t I?” You say as you stop in front of them. You have a sneaking suspicion that he is the same one you talked to last week.

“Well you never gave me your name,” he shrugs.

Yeah, it’s him.

Your head snaps to Fox, however, when he addresses you.

“You know my name?”

“Your information was processed and put into the system when you spent the night in the tank.”

“Osik,” you mutter.

“Did you need something?” He asks.

You perk up some, and hold out the second drink in your hand. “Right, there was a mixup at the caf shop, and I got an extra drink. I thought you might like it.”

He takes it carefully, but your bare fingers still brush against his gloved ones. They tingle when you pull away, and while the heat on your palm from holding the hot cup fades, the heat in your fingertips does not. You have the sudden urge to find out what holding his hand feels like, but you push that thought down along with the blush you can feel rising. Now isn’t the time. You have to get to work. Maybe if you come by earlier next time….. would there be a next time?

“Thank you. I… appreciate the thought.” You think you hear him trip over his words, but there’s no way.

You smile brightly at him. “You’re welcome!” You check the time on your chrono. “Looks like I gotta bounce. Enjoy your caf, Commander!”

Your retreat is quick, but hells if you don’t add a little extra sway to your hips as you walk out the doors.

And scribbled on the cup now in Fox’s hand is:

“I know day old caf when I taste it. Fresh is better.”

---

You start to bring Fox caf every week.

“This has become part of my routine, so I hope you don’t mind.”

Every week turns into every few days.

“Your filing system is horrifying but at least your chair is comfy.”

Every few days turns into every day.

“Tell Thorn that if he sees me at 79s tonight, he can’t arrest me just so I’ll hang out with him.”

And leaving early just to see Fox is the best part of your day no matter what. You hope you’re not the only one who feels like this. That maybe as you walk to the Guard building in the morning, you’re not the only one smiling and counting down the minutes until you get to Fox’s office. He never turns you away, and he’s always there to take the extra caf from your hands if he can be. Sometimes you have to leave it on his desk if he’s not in, but you understand that his job isn’t easy by any stretch of the word.

He is in this morning, however, seeing as the door opens promptly at your knock. He sits behind his desk, a few data pads already stacked next to him and a frown marring his face. That won’t do.

“Credit for your thoughts?” You say as you set his caf down next to his helmet and lean against his desk.

Fox looks up and gives you a tired smile, unaware of how it makes your stomach flutter. “Shaping up to be a long day.”

“Giving yourself more grey hairs already?” You say, giving a pointed look to his already greying sides.

“Like I need any more,” he huffs.

“I dunno,” you reach up and run your fingers lightly through his short curls, “I think they make you look distinguished.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t know he had been holding. “At least one of us thinks so.”

“It’s okay, I can like it enough for the both of us.”

“Should I count myself lucky then?” He smirks, finally taking a sip of his caf and sighing contently into the cup.

You give him a cheeky grin. “You should.”

He looks at you then, not saying anything, and you can’t help the flush you feel crawling up your face. You swear, you had never blushed so much around anyone before you met him. You distract yourself by drinking your own caf, the liquid welcome to your suddenly dry mouth.

“I do.”

“What?” Your head snaps back up to him and he’s still looking at you, but not in a way you’ve seen before.

“I do count myself lucky.”

You look away shyly, a small smile forming at the corners of your mouth. Sure, you two have been lightly flirting with each other, or at at least you’re definitely flirting with him, but this is the most straight-forward thing he’s ever said to you.

“It’s a good thing I got myself arrested that night then, isn’t it?”

It’s uncharted territory, where this conversation is heading. The thought of what it could be sits low in your belly and causes you to let out a shakey breath.

“It’s quite the holovid to watch,” he says offhandedly.

You’re lucky you aren’t drinking your caf, otherwise you would have spit it everywhere. You turn your head so hard you think you give yourself whiplash, mouth agape, looking at him in wide-eyed mortification.

“There’s a holo of that?!” The pitch of your voice would be embarrassing if you weren’t in the middle of spontaneously combusting on the inside.

He nods empathetically, which is shit because you know for damn sure he’s not empathetic about it; he’s having too much fun with this. You know he is, with that stupid, heart-stopping smirk playing on his face.

“Our HUDs record each incident for our files to make sure everything matches up with the reports.”

“Nooooooooooooo,” you whine quietly into your hands that now cover your face. You hear him get up and move to stand in front of you, but you don’t react. Mainly because you have no idea what he’s doing, but also he’s so kriffing close you can barely handle it.

His pries your hands from your face and presses them to his desk, effectively caging you in. He’s even closer now, and you’re hyper aware of how hard your heart is pounding even though you stop breathing. It’s the last thing from threatening, but you’re still frozen.

He leans in so his mouth is right next to your ear. “You look good in that little red dress of yours,” he whispers, his voice octaves lower than before. “Especially when you’re beating the kark out of a civvie – standing up for my vod.” It sends a pleasurable shiver down your spine and straight to your ovaries.

You suck in a breath when he pulls away. This is much more than you could have expected. “You’re not giving me much incentive to not be arrested again,” you tilt your head, “now that I know you’d be watching.”

“Always watching you, cyare.”

You hum, pulling one hand away from his to run up his armor and trace lightly over his jaw. “Gonna have to try harder to get a pair of binders on me next time, then.”

“Would you run?”

“Only if you’re the one chasing me.”

You move your hand from his jaw to the back of his neck and scratch lightly, feeling more than seeing him shiver under your fingertips.

“I’d find you.”

“Oh, I’d be counting on it, Commander.”

It’s a mutual surge that leads you two to lean in, culminating in the most charged kiss you’ve ever received. You throw your other hand around his neck, holding him as close as you can, while his hands latch onto your hips, pulling you up and into his embrace. He leads you back until he’s sitting in his chair and the next thing you know you’re falling into his lap to straddle him. You break for air, and to process that yes, this is happening, before you’re kissing again. A little slower; a little deeper.

You moan quietly into his mouth, and his hands move to your ass so he can pull you even closer.

There’s a chime from your chrono and you pull away, panting.

Fox’s eyes are dark and hungry when he looks at you. “You have to go soon.”

You nod, not breaking eye contact, and not moving either.

He grins, and it looks absolutely predatory. He slides the top of your blouse down slowly, just enough for his mouth to latch on to you right above your collarbone. You let out another breathy moan, and his teeth graze your skin in response as he sucks harder. His tongue soothes the area over when he lets go, and he looks at the quickly darkening spot with what you can only assume is possessive pride.

“For you to remember,” he says huskily.

Knowing he’s just staked his claim on you stokes the fire inside you even more. You give him your own feral grin, and pull down the collar of his blacks as he stiffens. “Who am I to allow you to forget, then?”

You suck hard at the column of his throat, higher than he did on you, knowing it would still be covered. You taste the sweat that had been building up, and his skin which you can’t even describe except that it tastes like him.

He groans lowly into your ear and you shiver when you pull away. You drag your nail lightly over the dark bruise in satisfaction before pulling his collar back up.

You slide off his armored thighs slowly. He follows you to stand, and gives you one last, long, kiss.

“Until next time, cyare.”

When you leave his office, you wish you had written something more on his cup than a crudely drawn fox with a smiley face next to it. Tomorrow though, you wonder what you can get away with saying.

“Next time I’m wearing that little red dress, feel free to search me. Who knows what I could be hiding.”

[shining-magically]

so I’ve wondered this since the trailer came out years and years ago and Chloe defended the movie - was the red shoes teaser written by the same team that made the movie? were they forced to market it like that, was that based on an earlier draft, etc?? not sure if you know but you seem like the leading expert!

Sorry, this is gonna be an absolute novel because you know I’m an animation fan and the history and production of Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarfs is SO interesting and insane. Like, Tangled levels of insane. Thanks for calling me an expert, no one else was gonna do it so I just kind of took up the helm lol.

Here’s the low-down... The timeline of the movie’s production is an absolute mess and kind of an extremely wild ride. It was in production for ten years, went through a lot of different crew members, and went through at least two other major versions of the story before landing on the final version.

Since there’s not a ton of info on the movie’s production, a lot of this is pieced together from different interviews and context clues, and also a lot of what I’ve read and what I am quoting has been translated from Korean, sometimes pretty roughly. But yeah.

Here’s the story of why the Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarfs teasers and poster were so, so bad and fatshame-y and the actual movie was so, so good and body-positive. (With pictures and production artwork!)

(This is a beast of a post so I’m putting it under a cut.)

All right, so. After its conception originally as a short story by the South Korean studio Locus Creative in 2009-2010-ish, Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarfs was being worked on and was set to come out in Summer 2017, as evidenced by this poster at the 2015 Cannes Film Festival, featuring a different logo and very different character designs for most of the dwarfs.

In early-mid 2016, the first teaser (in which we see Snow White undress and then two dwarfs recoil in horror at her fatness when she takes her magic shoes off) was released, after the film had kind of been slowly chugging along for 6 or so years. (I am having such trouble pinpointing when the second teaser was released (in which one of the dwarfs basically attacks Snow while she is sleeping to steal her shoes), but I believe it was around the same time.) The teasers didn’t get that much traction because this was a small film from a small indie studio in South Korea.

None of the final actors had been cast yet. At this point in the production, the story was different, one of the many versions that the movie went through. As in the final movie, the dwarfs were actually cursed knights/princes and Snow White switched back and forth between two body types due to her magic shoes, but in this version, the dwarfs needed to steal the shoes from her in order to break their curse (rather than needing “a kiss from the most beautiful woman in the world” like in the final movie).

The weird thing is, I believe they had JUST changed the movie’s story when the teaser came out. I’m almost positive it was released more as a proof of concept than as an actual trailer for the movie. They had just recently combined two separate characters (seen above), a typical pretty, skinny princess character (Snow White) and a cute chubby girl character (’Bonnie’), into one single character that switches back and forth between the two appearances when she wears the magic shoes (also they had just dropped literally half of the movie taking place in the real world, with a magic mirror portal, it was a whole thing). 

They didn’t have the details of this aspect of the new story hammered out yet, and the first pass at presenting Snow’s magically changing body type, was, yeah, not good and super offensive. This was a really inexperienced indie studio making their first film on a low budget, so even the animation and voice acting wasn’t great. I think they just wanted to get SOMETHING out there because it had been 6 years and they wanted to have something to show for it.

But here’s the thing. Despite how the teasers make it seem, this was always supposed to be a movie about body positivity, letting go of appearance-based prejudices, and loving yourself and others for who you are and for who they are, which we see in the final film.

I like to think of our film as a kindhearted one. Our intentions are nice.

- Director Sung-ho Hong

It’s important to keep in mind that this movie was made in South Korea by a 99% Korean crew, and, as I understand it anyway, in Korean culture, ‘fatshaming’ is not really a thing that is seen as overtly offensive. Also, children’s media there seems to have more adult things in it than in the US, which probably accounts for the more risque parts of the teasers. That said, I really believe that at this point in the timeline, the movie was on-track to be bad (or at least not very good) when it was released, and it would have ended up bad IF a few key players hadn’t signed on (which I’ll get to in a moment).

Interestingly, the movie’s producer, Sujin Hwang, said in a 2017 interview:

“[Both teasers] were solely produced to induce curiosity. They’re completely irrelevant to the actual story.”

- Producer Sujin Hwang

I think what she was trying to convey was that neither one is a scene in the actual movie, because while the teasers didn’t reflect the revamped story as it existed in summer 2017 (the time of the interview), they DID reflect the earlier version of the story where the dwarfs wanted her shoes, which is what the story was at the time they were made.

Now that we’re in post-teaser 2016, HERE’S where things start to turn around. After the teasers were released, my guy Disney veteran and native Korean Jin Kim joined the project. He and Red Shoes director Sung-ho Hong had been buddies for about eight years and Sung-ho had been trying to get Jin to come to Seoul and work with him at Locus for a long time, and he finally succeeded.

Jin and his twenty years of Disney experience as an animator and senior designer on films like Tangled, Frozen, Big Hero 6, Zootopia, and Moana, had a HUGE HUGE HUGE influence on the movie. He redesigned almost all the characters, oversaw all the visual development from the moment he signed on, and heavily (HEAVILY) supervised the animation, literally going frame-by-frame through preliminary animations and drawing over them, teaching the inexperienced animators at Locus everything he knew. (Literally almost everyone except him either only had TV experience or had no professional experience because they just gotten out of school.)

From an outsider’s perspective, it really seems as though Jin joining the project (and his gargantuan effort) made the quality SKYROCKET. Not just in character design and animation, but also in things like effects animation, story, etc. After he joined, Locus really started pushing HARD to make a good, high-quality movie, and his influence and experience from being a prominent figure at Disney was absolutely key. The studio also began to really study Disney films and other well-made animated films from other studios to really try and pinpoint what the DNA of a good animated movie really is.

I don’t have any solid evidence, but I’m pretty sure that Tony Bancroft (an animator and the co-director of Mulan) then joined the project because he’s good friends with Jin Kim. He is only credited as the voice director (the movie was recorded in English and the characters were animated to the English dialogue), but I am SURE that he probably also had a pretty big influence on the movie, because like... How could he not? I really really think there was more to his role than his title would have you believe, even though there’s almost no info out there about it.

So now the movie goes through a gigantic metamorphosis. Character designs, visual development, and animation quality are all rapidly improving, the story is tightening, and the themes of the movie (which, again, were always the same and intended to be positive) are being presented in a more sincere way. The movie is becoming the sweet, self-love-encouraging and body-positive movie that was eventually released.

I’m putting a gif from the credits of the final movie here. As we move into 2017, when the giant eruption of backlash occurred, please keep in mind that the story was finalized at this point and that THIS was the movie people were so mad about:

Chloe Grace Moretz accepted the role of Snow White immediately after she read the script and she recorded her lines (I think) in early-ish 2017. Her co-star Sam Claflin also immediately accepted the role of the romantic interest, Merlin, after reading the script and recorded his lines in (I believe) July 2017.

In the summer of 2017, the story and script were more or less the same as in the final movie. Promotional images from that time show that most of dwarfs had been completely redesigned by this point and didn’t have their teaser designs anymore.

They also released a few screenshots that look exactly like the final film. The movie was advertised as coming out in ‘2018′ at this point. Here’s a promo image from 2017 that is MUCH more tactfully worded than the infamous Cannes poster:

So now we’re in summer 2017. The Cannes Film Festival. The movie’s script and story have been basically nailed down, animation is underway, and the Korean film company Finecut is beginning to market and sell the movie to worldwide audiences. They are planning on showing some footage to potential buyers at the festival, and they make a poster to advertise the film there.

Unfortunately, it’s THIS POSTER:

Now here’s where there are some unknowns. By this point, the movie is basically in its final form, which is an adorable, body-positive story about loving people for who they are, loving yourself for who YOU are, and that provides commentary on society’s standards of beauty and how they affect how people are treated/viewed. So why this poster??? All I can really tell is that someone (I think Finecut) really, REALLY messed up and either horribly mistranslated the tagline, or didn’t do enough research to know that this kind of thing is REALLY NOT OKAY in western culture.

The above picture is shared and the internet backlash begins, fueled by tweets from prominent body-positivity activists like Tess Holliday. Even Chloe Grace Moretz speaks out against it, because she of all people KNOWS that that’s not what the movie is about. The internet then finds the old teasers from before the movie was revamped and it makes things worse. Producer Sujin Hwang profusely apologizes and says that that is NOT the message of the movie. Locus pulls the advertising campaign, and takes down the two old teasers.

“Our film, a family comedy, carries a message designed to challenge social prejudices related to standards of physical beauty in society by emphasizing the importance of inner beauty.”

- Producer Sujin Hwang

Voice director Tony Bancroft also tried to explain the situation:

“The truth is the film has a body-positive message as its core theme–it’s the opposite of what reports are saying. The problem is one poorly translated movie poster that has been taken dramatically out of context.” 

- Voice Director Tony Bancroft

And then... There was nothing for a while. The movie didn’t come out in 2018 and was delayed. From what I can tell, I DON’T believe this delay was related to the Cannes backlash. I think it was mostly due to Locus’s limited budget and resources, because as we know, animation is difficult, time-consuming, expensive, and easy to do badly but hard to do well. Also, probably with Jin Kim and Tony Bancroft’s influence, they REALLY wanted to make sure to do a good job with the animation because they now had a great story and they really wanted the movie to be a quality, worldwide hit that would kind of put South Korean feature animation on the map. Just take a look at how nice the final animation was:

The movie was released in South Korea on July 25th, 2019. Unfortunately, the damage was done in the English-speaking markets and it was not released to an English-speaking audience until June 22, 2020, when it was released digitally in the UK. At the time of this post, there is no set US release date, but the distribution rights were recently bought by Lionsgate and the MPAA gave the film an official PG rating.

So who’s to blame? There’s no good answer. You could blame Locus for making those old teasers. You could blame Finecut for the competely tonedeaf Cannes poster. You could even blame cancel culture for raging against the movie based on one poster and two old teaser trailers without researching what the movie was actually about.

All I know is, it’s a damn shame.

[sunshinereddie]

bestie… devastating news… this song is so Eddie Kaspbrak coded…

“Wonder what I did to deserve this / how could you hurt a little kid?”

“all that I did to try to undo it / all of my pain and all your excuses / I was a kid but I wasn’t clueless / (someone who loves you wouldn’t do this)”

“all of my past, I tried to erase it / but now I see, would I even change it? / might share a face and share a last name but (We are not the same)”

goddddd. fuck.

Thinking abt Eddie post-canon (ALIVE! HES ALWAYS ALIVE IN MY MIND HOLY FUCK) having to go back to Myra where she berates him for leaving so suddenly and for almost dying. As if it was a conscious choice… and he catches himself defending her in his mind, because “she is just worried, she’s yelling because she loves me”. But then he remembers the reaction of the rest of the Losers when they saw him after his surgery. All wobbly smiles and “I love you”s. Everyone taking a turn holding his hand and expressing their relief that he was alive.

And suddenly is occurs to him, someone who loves you wouldn’t do this. He knows what they would do, because he has people who love him. People who love him unconditionally and without reservations. They were so happy to see him in that hospital room. Myra is angry at him. So angry she hasn’t even asked how his condition was. Just launched straight into a tirade about him being an inconsiderate husband. It all hits him like fucking truck. Myra’s face almost seems to morph into that of the late Sonia Kaspbrak.

Without warning he starts laughing. Laughing at his situation, at his cluelessness. Myra goes a brilliant shade of red, features contorting into an expression that could only be described as irate. Normally, he’d back off and let her continue to scream at him until she got it out of her system. But he doesn’t even know what “normal” is anymore. “Myra, this isn’t healthy” his voice is, thankfully, even. Her face seems to drain of color, suddenly making her seem small.

“Eddie bear, I’m just so worried about you! You left with hardly any explanation and almost got yourself killed. Don’t you see how idiotic that is? This is why you can’t be trusted to be on your own! You can’t take care of yourself! I love you Eddie but-“

“Your love shouldn’t be conditional Myra! Your sentence should’ve ended at I love you! No buts! You haven’t even asked me yet if I’m okay! I’ve been home an entire hour and you haven’t said one nice thing to me! This. Isn’t. Healthy. I can take care of myself! I don’t need you to coddle me! I pulled a knife literally out of my face! I survived a fatal chest wound that I got protecting my friend! I did those things! I don’t need you or anyone else to protect me. I am brave… braver than I ever thought I was capable of being.” His hands are kind of shaking but he feels good. He feels light, like he could float away.

Myra looks like she might be sick.

“Look, we just aren’t good for each other. I don’t think we should be together anymore. I’m gonna go, I’ll stay with a friend for a while. You should expect papers soon. I’m… sorry this didn’t work out, and that it’s ending the way it is. I know we weren’t always like this. I’ll see you around Myra.”

Tears were building up in his eyes but he still turned around and made his way back outside. Myra hadn’t moved from her spot in the middle of the living room, he was thankful for that. It made it so much easier to get back into his car (that he hadn’t even gotten around to unloading) and drive. He wasn’t sure where he was going yet or what he was going to do in the long run, but he knew what he had to do right now.

“Siri, call Richard Tozier.”

-

I could’ve gone down the Sonia & Eddie route, but my first thought was how their relationship shaped Eddie’s relationship w/ Myra. So here it is!

- 🫀

heartie. you're killing me here.

AAAAAAHHHH LEJRHBFLSJEBFGAL;OWRHNFLSAIHEGF;AEOSBGRL THIS IS SOOOO GOOOOD AASAHAHHHHHH like actually oh my god. this was so good.

"someone who loves you wouldn’t do this. He knows what they would do, because he has people who love him. People who love him unconditionally and without reservations." THE LOSERS HELPING HIM REALIZE THIS IS MY FAVOURITE HC EVER,,,, ALL HE'S EVER KNOWN HIS ENTIRE LIFE SINCE MOVING OUT OF DERRY IS HOW SONIA AND MYRA HAVE TREATED HIM, UNTIL HE COMES BACK TO DERRY AND IS SHOWN REAL LOVE AND COMPASSION BY HIS BEST FRIENDS.... HIS REAL FAMILY...... *SOBS AS LOUD AS I CAN*

another amazing mini fic.... i love you so much.....

[jincherie]

kiss it better | jjk

~ COMMISSION FOR @cinnaminsvga​​ ~

✩ — pairing: jungkook x reader ✩ — genre: college/uni au, smut, cheerleader!jk, pining, borderline crack ✩ — words: 11.7k ✩ — rating: 18+ ✩ — warnings: koo takes a tumble, explicit sexual content; clothed sex, unprotected sex (not recommended), creampie, handjobs,light subby!jk, hand-holding during sex (potent), whining, thigh-riding, vaginal sex, minor hair pulling, public sex (sort of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, light dirty talk ✩ — notes: out later than intended and a bit longer than intended !! whoops!!! i won’t/don’t charge if i go over the commissioned amount becayse that’s my bad!! but yeah. its been a hot second since i last wrote smut!! also none of my friends were awake to proofread this so….. apologies if it’s shit and has typos! its 2am! pls enjoy and lmk whast u think!!

When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

masterlist | — posted; 01.03.2020

TUESDAY, SEMESTER 2 WEEK FOUR

It’s a beautiful day, the sun has just come to peak out from behind the clouds that had earlier obscured its climb from the horizon, and the grass of the Biological Sciences Library courtyard glistens with raindrops left over from the brief shower that prefaced the sun’s belated appearance. Students are finally beginning to emerge from the safety of the undercover walkways and overhangs, venturing boldly to shortcut over the grass. University life resumes, and everything falls back into its place, all as usual.

“Yah, is that Jungkook? Wait what is he—”

Well, everything except for one thing.

A red and black-clad figure slams to a stop right where two students are sitting and minding their own business outside the café attached to the back of the library—there’s no time to say hello. The table rocks dangerously on its beaten, metal leg, the impact of Jungkook’s beeline almost sending it straight to the ground if the two others weren’t already seated there to catch it.

“OW!” Jimin is never one to be quiet in his complaints, all too happy to holler his outrage at the top of his lungs. As his oldest hyung would say, no attention is bad attention. “Hey you almost jammed my fingers!”

Startled as Taehyung might have been, his focus is quickly shifted to other things. His wide eyes scan Jungkook’s panting form, taking in the clothes clinging to him like a second skin and the beet red colour of his face and ears. It’s not hard to put two and two together, but what comes out of his mouth isn’t exactly the most pressing thing he wants to ask, “Jungkook, why are you wearing the female cheer leading uniform I gave you?”

There’s a somewhat crazed look that makes itself known in the youngest’s eyes. “AHA!” he throws a finger in Taehyungs face, accusing. “So you ADMIT it’s a female uniform! Taehyung, you ass, how could you!”

Taehyung’s face is a question mark and Jimin squints, confused and still huffy about nearly losing his fingers and his triple-shot iced caramel latte that he may or may not have charmed the barista into gifting him for free. He wants to know what is going on and he wants to know NOW, damn it!

“What are you on about?” he asks, wrinkling his nose as he takes his drink into hand to prevent any future risk of spillage. “Why do you look like that time you ran the half-marathon on a dare?”

Jungkook glares at him, but it’s about as effective as it would be coming from a puppy. “Be quiet and sip your drink,” he says boldly, still attempting to get his breathing under control. Jimin considers throwing a retort back but ultimately decides against, it, shrugging and doing just that. He doesn’t want it getting warm, after all.  

“Uh, yeah,” Taehyung says, sounding like he is a split second away from tacking on ‘duh’ at the end. “You asked me for a cheerleading uniform? I thought you knew some chick that needed a spare, I didn’t know you wanted one to wear.”

At Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression, Taehyung takes the liberty of continuing. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it? You look surprisingly hot in a skirt, your ass looks fine as hell. But you seem kind of angry so IN MY DEFENSE, how was I supposed to know? That you wanted a male uniform? You never specified so—”

While each word that came out of Taehyung’s mouth just seemed to rile him up more, a different look passes over Jungkook’s features at that comment. “Wait, my ass looks good?” He straightens, attempting to peer over his own shoulder to catch a glimpse. “I wonder if she… No!”

He shakes his head suddenly to clear those thoughts and get back on track, whipping that same accusing finger in Taehyung’s face once more and levelling him with a renewed glare. 

“Because of you, I just had the most humiliating experience of my life, and it was all in front of you-know-who!” His voice starts strong, but as he continues it shrinks to more of an angry whisper, his brows scrunched in a clear display of his displeasure. “I literally am about to commit seppuku.”

“Weeb,” Jimin utters at the same time as Taehyung asks, “y/n?” Jimin’s head whips up at the keyword. 

Jungkook’s fight has all but left him at this point, and he pulls out one of the metal chairs to slump in it, defeatedly. His ears are turning crimson again as he recalls the events that had traumatised him so, and he slams his head to the table with a groan, muttering to himself in a voice that sounds dangerously like a sob.

“—stupid, was so stupid of me. I never should have asked Seokjin-hyung for advice. For actually listening I deserve nothing short of death. I’m so embarrassed I’m gonna throw myself into the lake.”

“Don’t throw yourself in there, think of the fishes—” Taehyung says at the same time as Jimin squawks, “WHAT?! You got advice from Seokjin?! He knows who your crush is? Oh my god, you’re more stupid than I thought…”

It’s all Jungkook can do to simply rest his head on the grubby-feeling table, eyes unfocused as he stares into the distance and regrets almost every single decision he has made in his waking life. 

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

“My roommate,” Seokjin says, in between gratuitous sips of his monstrously sugary drink. “I think I’m almost about to get him to crack.”

“I feel bad for him,” you say, not looking up from your laptop despite the urge to gorge on your own drink. You made a goal not to look like a goblin when you woke up this morning and sipping your drink at a reasonable pace is a good start. “Being stuck in close quarters with you all the time. No doubt he needs therapy by now.”

As expected, Seokjin ignores you. You wonder if this is how he has managed not to get usurped as leader of the Contemporary Poetry Performance Club.

(To condense a very long story— he didn’t take being kicked out of the Drama Club very well. That’s on him though, he probably shouldn’t have called the Club Leader a tasteless fool for ordering a salad with his Happy Meal instead of nuggets. But, you digress.)

“I think I’m getting close these days,” the male muses, not-so-subtly making a reach for the McDonalds apple pie you have resting on the table next to your laptop. You smack his hand away without so much as a blink, more than used to having to defend any and all food from his wandering hands by this point. He continues, unaffected by the rebuttal, “Like, really close. It’s not long before my unrelenting bastardous antics wear him down and he finally breaks, spilling all his deepest secrets and confessing his long-time crush on me, thus allowing me to bring this act of friends-to-lovers pining to a close and get to the steamy stuff. “

At his spiel, you finally look at him, sporting a concerned and confused expression, if not somewhat intrigued. “… Are you talking about Jungkook?”

Seokjin chokes on the long sip he’d begun to drag up the straw, indignance making his voice rise. “NO, dumbass, I’m talking about Namjoon! Although…” He pauses only to bring a finger to stroke his chin, like a villain straight from an episode of Lazy Town, “You know, I never thought I’d be one for that harem shit, but now I think about it…”

“Gross,” you groan, wrinkling your nose. Seokjin releases a villainous cackle and you have no choice but to raise your fist in promise. He gets the message and quietens down immediately.

“No, but speaking of that little twerp,” Seokjin quickly starts up again, placing his drink down on the table. You feel an ounce of regret, knowing that means he’s about to talk for a longer time than you’re ready for. “I’m close to breaking him too.”

“He told you who his crush is?” you ask, brows raising in shock. Seokjin lets out a great sigh like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, making you snort.

“No,” he grumbles, before brightening straight after. “But! I’m getting close. He came to me for advice this morning.”

At his words, you’ve now completely abandoned whatever you were doing on your laptop and are looking at him in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“Am not!” Seokjin denies, huffy. “He did! He wanted help making his crush fall in love with him, and so of course he came to me, Kim Seokjin, master of the heart and modern-day cupid.”

You pin him with a deadpan look. “Namjoon was out, wasn’t he.”

Seokjin’s glare is all the answer you need. He continues like you hadn’t even spoken in the first place.

“And since he so wisely came to me, of all people, and put his love life in my wise, gentle hands, I gave him the best advice anyone could possibly get.” The way his chest has swelled with pride and he’s looking all-too-pleased with himself doesn’t fill you with a good feeling. “I told him to play it smart, and use his assets.”

At first, you’re confused. “What, like… his cuteness? His endearing personality?”

“NO, dumbass, his assets! His ass! His thighs! His itty-bitty waist!” You think you hear him muttering something like ‘that lucky bitch’ under his breath, but can’t be sure. “Also, don’t think I missed you calling him cute, y/n. I’m filing that shit away for later.”

“I’ll kill you,” you inform him, but the threat has long since lost its impact. He rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, we both already know exactly how 'peggable’ you think he is.” He takes a haughty sip of his drink like he knows he’s right, and you hate that he is. “It’s not the most incriminating thing I have on you.”

You make the strategic decision not to say anything and dig your hole deeper, and Seokjin seems pleased at your silent admit of defeat.

“Anyway,” he says again, smacking the cream on top of his drink down into the liquid with a spoon. There is some fallout, but that’s never stopped him before. “Kid’s dumb as shit but pure of heart. I’m interested to see whether he will actually take my advice.”

“He won’t for sure,” you scoff, returning to your laptop at last. “Anyone who takes your advice is guaranteed to have an empty head and quarter of a brain cell to their name. Jungkook is smarter than that.”

As expected, Seokjin squawks in outrage, and it harmonises with the ambience of dead silence in your corner of the library. He doesn’t let the topic rest for the remainder of the day.    

WEDNESDAY, WEEK FIVE

You think that the day Jungkook first rocked up to cheer practice at the gym a week ago at the same time you were coaching the women’s basketball team, is one firmly burned into your memory for the rest of your life. And, honest to god, you wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Because the boy, in all his slim-waisted, sculpted-ass-and-thighs glory, had rocked up in a cheerleading crop top and skirt.

You have absolutely no idea why he decided to wear that to his first session after joining, but you do know that while the sight of him usually makes you drool, the sight of him in that made your brain cease all higher functioning and you, in essence, became a dog. You almost barked when you saw him, for real.

Even from across the room though, you’d quickly been able to gather that he hadn’t worn it on purpose (somehow), as his face flushed bright crimson and he quickly began to look like he wanted to neck himself in the middle of the gym. Yoongi, another bastard friend of yours who through a series of unfortunate events and regrettable decisions (for him) had become the cheer captain, had been insulted that Jungkook had shown up like that and “hadn’t taken cheer seriously”, and so had given him a punishment. Yoongi said that if he wanted to rock up in a skirt so badly, then for every coming practice he had to wear a skirt again.

Had you not been busy drooling you probably would have felt bad for Jungkook, as you did later when Yoongi filled you in. As it were, in the moment you’d nearly copped a basketball to the face for being so distracted. Regrettably, you’d had to turn away from Jungkook and back to your actual duties: coaching. 

Although with Yoongi being out for your blood, you have had plenty of opportunities in the past week to ogle to your heart’s desire. A real shameful amount, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Bora!” you call, watching the girl in question halt across the gym. “Fix your footwork or I’m gonna smack you!”

The girl rolls her eyes and turns away, flicking a ponytail of dark hair over her shoulder as she does so, but listens to what you say. The familiar squeak of rubber on gym flooring fills the air as she starts the drill anew. She has a tendency to get lazy and sloppy in her movements if you don’t ride her ass, and she knows it as much as you do.

“How did you even managed to get the coaching position?” Seulgi asks from next to you, her response almost cut off by a loud racket from the cheer side of the gym. It takes all of your willpower not to fall into the trap and look over. “I feel like people like you shouldn’t be in positions of power.”

You don’t even bother arguing with her since she’s technically right and you agree. “Sheer dumb luck,” you tell her, risking a glance to the side if only to give Yoongi the stink eye. “Actually, if you really wanna know, I only went for it because Yoongi wanted it and he did something that really soured my yoghurt and pissed me off. So I applied out of spite. I probably shouldn’t have gotten the job though.”

“Huh,” Seulgi voices, eyes unfocused. “Well you’re not too bad for a fake. The team has actually been improving since you took over.”

“That’s probably because you guys went through coaches so fast for a while that for like, six months you didn’t really have one.”

“Touché.”

The only reason the girl is on the sidelines in the first place is because she’d looked over at the wrong time and caught it just as Jungkook started one of the tumbling routines, getting it almost perfect on the first go and in the process flashing his pert ass to the air and any sorry beholders. He might have been wearing bike shorts under the punishment skirt he was modelling, and he might have traded the crop top for a singlet of reasonable length, but it was still a dangerous, nay lethal sight. You’d looked over at the same time so you knew why and how Seulgi managed to tumble and trip so terribly mid-drill. She rolled her ankle so bad that as she sits next to you right now with ice on it, it looks like there’s an entire boiled egg beneath the surface of her skin. It’s kind of gross but also kind of hard to look away from. 

Back to the topic at hand, there is just something about the sheer athleticism and heaven-blessed ease with which Jungkook backflips and cartwheels across the mat that turns you into a brainless slab of goo. You’re unsurprised that Seulgi got distracted and ended up hurting herself as a result of it.

The afternoon flies by and before you know it, it’s dark outside, and you’ve finished riding the collective women’s basketball team’s ass for the day. As they disperse and leave the gym at a leisurely pace, you collect Seulgi and help her towards the gym locker room to get some fresh ice for her ankle before she journeys to visit the university nurse. 

The cheer squad has just about finished up their own practice, and one by one they begin to filter out of the gym. Yoongi waddles over to where you stand by the door, eyeing Seulgi with a knowing look.

“Got distracted at the wrong time, huh?” He asks, very much already knowing the answer. You give him a dirty look while Seulgi goes bright pink.

Yoongi adjusts the collar of his university sports jacket, puffing his chest out. “That’s our golden boy for ya,” he brags, sounding very much like one of the aunties and old women you find gossiping on the street near the markets. “He was born for cheer. It’s like he’s been tumbling since the day he was born. Probably even came out doing a backflip.”

You want to tell him to stop pulling shit out of his ass, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything when you agree so wholeheartedly. You’re saved from having to summon a response when in the next second, Yoongi gets the urge to turn and catches Jungkook red-handed on his way out of the gym. He seems in a hurry, moving almost like he’s trying to sneak out unnoticed, but halts at the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s holler when it breaches the air.

“Ah there he is— Jungkook-ah!” Even while calling out, Yoongi somehow still has an indolent, lazy drawl. “Good job today! Also, proud of you for committing to your punishment. Keep it up!”

The poor raven-haired boy had already looked somewhat mortified at being singled out amongst the students exiting the gym, but now as Yoongi finishes speaking and his big doe eyes flick to the side and take in you and Seulgi listening in, his face very suddenly and violently erupts into a blush.

“Th-thanks,” he squeaks, nodding, the tips of his ears darkening to match his face. His eyes are flicking from you to Yoongi in such a way he almost reminds you of a scared rodent. When it becomes clear he has nothing more to say, he turns on his heel and flees in the direction of the locker room. For his sake, you don’t ogle him as he goes. There’s a time and a place, and he seems so embarrassed that you’d feel bad for checking him out right now. 

“… He’s so cute,” Yoongi remarks a few seconds after Jungkook disappears out the door, gaze still trained in the direction he’d left. “No wonder I always look over and see you drooling, y/n.”

You agree with the first part, but honestly… you could have done without that second comment. You give him the stink eye to let him know just that, before tapping Seulgi and readjusting your grip in preparation to walk once more.

“If you’re immune, Min, you’re not human,” Seulgi says, cheeky glint in her eye. Your heart warms—you can always count on her to defend you in the face of life’s meanies.

SATURDAY, WEEK 5

It’s not often you find yourself making the long, arduous trek down the street to the apartment building where Seokjin et al. live, but it does happen on the occasion. If possible, you like to make the journey in the morning or the afternoon, because there is little to no cover on the path that takes you there and the only thing you like less than being in the sun when you don’t have to is sweating.

Still, you make the trek today, even though it’s technically past the point in the morning where you would refuse. The heat starts to come anywhere from 8 to 9 o’clock, even earlier on the stinkier days. Call you lazy, but you stick by your own rules because they work and reduce your suffering considerably. 

Namjoon is one of your project partners in a random elective the two of you chose, and he was meant to give you a part of the assignment he’d been working on yesterday but, of course, forgot it. And then again today, when he was meant to drop it off on his way to work, he forgot it once more. So here you are, walking to his stupid apartment and preparing to break in because it’s due next week and you need his part to finish yours, damn it. 

Thankfully, air conditioning greets you the second you step inside the building and cools down whatever heat has managed to cling to your form from outside. Luck is on your side—no sweat today, babey! In a slightly better mood now that you’re out of the sun, you follow the path your legs have committed to memory to Namjoon’s apartment. 

Normally you’d rely on someone being home to let you in so you can ransack Namjoon’s room, but in his apologetic text he’d informed you that everyone is out and so with a great, big sigh you’d resigned yourself and dug the lockpicking set you received one Christmas out from under your bed. It’s heavy in your back pocket now as you walk down the hallway of the floor their apartment is on, already feeling like you’ve committed a crime. Before you can even throw yourself into thoughts of which tool would work best on their front door, you catch sight of something you most definitely weren’t expecting. 

There’s someone else in front of the apartment door, jiggling the doorknob and attempting to work it. You don’t know if they realise its locked and are trying their luck anyway, or whether they’ve yet to figure it out, but while their back is turned to you they have provided you with an excellent view.

Broad shoulders with tan skin peaking out from below a muscle singlet and glistening with sweat where their body catches the light. Dark curls are plastered to the back of their neck, arms out and a tattoo sleeve on one leading your gaze down its length. He’s very athletic, you gather of the stranger immediately, and you’re almost drooling at the way his bicep shifts and tenses as he tries the doorknob once more. Your gaze finally frees itself and scans over the rest of him; defined back, tiny waist, nice butt, thick thighs—

Wait. You know that waist. The sight of it bared by a skimpy cheerleading outfit is one you’ve committed to memory.

“Jungkook?” you say, feeling your stomach dip in excitement. Does it always do that when you see him? You can’t remember.

At the sound of your voice and how close it is, the male jumps in fright and lets out a noise eerily close to a squeak. He spins, slamming his back against the door and smacking a hand over his heart.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, eyes closing and head falling back against the door with a thud. The sight is borderline sinful when combined with his damp hair and sweaty form, and your thoughts threaten to take a dangerous route before you reign them in. You smack your libido back in place— down, girl! “y/n, you scared the living shit out of me.”

A moment passes before his eyes snap open and the breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he’s looking at you like a cornered rabbit, cheeks already warming in his fluster. “W-wait, y/n? What… What are you doing here?”

Cute. If you could, you think you’d pack him up and put him in your pocket.  

You ignore his question only for the sake of asking him your own—much less incriminating as a choice. “Are you trying to break into your own apartment, Mister Jungkook?”

Instantly, as you’d almost come to expect at this point, his cheeks flush cutely. 

“Wh- I, uh…” he swallows and clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “No! Kind of? I went for a jog earlier and Namjoon-hyung kind of… uh… he locked me out.”

As he speaks, you’re reminded of how much you actually like his voice. It’s smooth, melodious; even when its shaking slightly from nerves. Why is he nervous? The longer you stand in his presence the more curious you become. You kind of want to tease him a little.

You hum, a smile curling the corners of your lips and one of your brows raising.  “Ah, so he’s scorned both of us, I see. But fear not, little gumdrop!”

He’s staring at you in something akin to flustered bewilderment as you reach behind you and pull out your lockpicking kit, brandishing it like a trophy. “I have the solution!”

“…” He’s stunned into silence, it seems, but you don’t mind. The look on his face right now is super cute—you kind of want to pinch his cheeks. Okay, damn it, you can’t help it—you pinch his cheek and make a short cooing noise as you step past, preparing to help him break into his apartment. At least this way it feels less like a crime and more like a service.

(You sneak a sly look back at Jungkook as you pass him, and your heart squeezes at the sight of his cheeks flushing pink from your teasing action, eyes wide as they follow your form. This boy is gonna kill you one day.)

Usually you have a bit of trouble picking locks (you don’t do it often) but you crack this one surprisingly fast, and before you know it the door is swinging open and you’re letting out a noise of glee.

“Excellent!” you announce, before darting right in to search for what you came for. Namjoon left it conveniently on the dining table, so you dash over and grab the folder and USB before turning around to be on your merry way. 

When you return to the door, Jungkook is still standing there, tattooed hand pressed to the cheek you’d pinched – which are bright red, by the way— and his eyes somewhat dazed.

“See you at practice later, Jungkook!” you say, waving the folder to accentuate the farewell. “Don’t forget the punishment skirt! You look too good in it, it would be a crime to forget it.”

Once you’re done speaking, you turn back the way you’re walking, missing the facial expression that accompanies his flustered sputtering of a goodbye. Your stomach still flips in excitement as you retreat, a skip in your step, and you can’t help but think it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you ended up seeing more of Jungkook outside of practice.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK 6

You’re sitting in the campus sushi place, escaping the midday heat and grabbing something to eat, minding your own business. It is, though, a nice day and you don’t mind sitting back and just admiring it. This changes when a figure suddenly comes bolting towards you from a distance and nearly bowls you and the contents of your sushi container over.

“SEOKJIN!” you exclaim, barely having saved your food from a sudden and unfortunate meet & greet with the floor. You give him a glare strong enough to kill. “What the hell! My karaage chicken!!! Dude you KNOW they only make a certain amount of these per day, you almost made me drop it and I hadn’t even taken a bit yet! Honestly! You—”

“Shut! Shut up!” Seokjin grips you by the shoulders, giving you a shake; it makes your eyes lock-on to his flushed face, his breath coming in pants from his exertion. “Shut up I have something to say and it’s important!”

“Stop shaking me!” you cry, wriggling out of his grip and leaning as far back into your chair as you can to get away from this nutcase. “And what?! You finally slipped up and Namjoon found all the secret letters you write for him when you’re horny?!”

“No, better!” Seokjin makes like he’s going to grab your shoulders again and you smack his hands away. He continues, eyes alight with something akin to glee that makes him look just a little bit crazy. “I finally did it! I found out who that twerp’s crush is! You won’t beli—”

“What?!” you sputter, your gut churning for some reason. Is the sushi you ate off? “He told you? No way he would be stupid enough to tell you—”

“Hey!” the male cries, indignant. “I resent that! Also no, he didn’t technically tell me, but I have people on the inside…”

It takes a moment for you to scan through people in your head before it clicks. You gasp. “You bullied it out of his friends?! Seokjin! Taehyung and Jimin don’t deserve that!”

“I didn’t bully them! They told me of their own accord!” He points a finger at you in retribution. “Albeit, it was by accident, but I digress.”

You’re shaking your head, returning to your sushi and ignoring the odd sensations in your gut. “This is blood information, man. I don’t know if I can sit and be accomplice to—”

“It’s you!” Seokjin blurts, sticking his pink-haired head right in your face. “The twerp has a crush on you! Finally, at least one of my shipping dreams is coming true!”

You’re so shocked by the information literally thrown in your face that you honest to god almost drop your sushi, again. You stare at the male, mouth open, as you flounder to get some order back in your thoughts.

The first thing you think to say is—“What? No way. Your info is dodgy, man.”

“Look, I know you’re sensitive so I try not to say this often, but are you dumb, y/n?” Seokjin stands back now, hand on his hip.  The look he’s giving you isn’t impressed. “It makes so much sense! Why else would he sign up to cheerleading in a skirt to use his assets if it wasn’t on at the same time as whatever his crush does? Honestly, I should have seen it sooner—the way he goes bright pink every time he sees you and his eyes sparkle like an anime girl every time we mention you. I just thought he was scared of girls or had pinkeye or somethin’.”

You kind of want to smack him, but the rest of you is busy attempting to process all the information unloaded on you. Your stomach gives a giddy flip, and you decide it can only mean one thing in the wake of finding out that Jungkook’s mysterious crush is you.

Maybe, just maybe, you like him too.

…

You’re gonna pursue him. 

THURSDAY, WEEK 7

It seems that Jungkook has heard that his crush on you has been leaked, because you’ve been trying to track him down and confirm it ever since last week and he’s been avoiding you like the plague. You think you see him kicking up dust as he retreats as fast as his legs will take him around hallway corners when he sees you at the other end, you catch glimpses of him across courtyards as he spins and flees in the opposite directions. A part of you wonders whether its because he does indeed have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you know, of whether it’s because he doesn’t have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you might think he does. 

Well, you can’t know until you talk to him and it seems like you won’t be able to talk to him unless you ambush him in the men’s toilets or something. Which, by the way, isn’t something you’re going to do because even though your friends might be crazy, you’re most definitely not. 

It was even to the point that Jungkook missed the first two practices after you found out, and you have no doubt that he would have avoided you by missing even more had Yoongi not threatened him with adding a crop top to his punishment attire should he miss another practice. He’d showed up for the next one but every time he came within five metres of you he blushed and kept his eyes to the ground, fleeing as soon as he can. 

It’s a little bit frustrating, and he’s still cute when he acts all shy, but you really wish you could track him down just so you know whether its true or not.

Perhaps, with time, he’ll grow a little less skittish and let you get close enough to start a conversation. You just have to hold out hope that a moment will come that will allow you to start bridging things back together with the two of you.

FRIDAY, WEEK 7

That moment comes sooner than you expect when, just the next day, you round a corner alongside Seulgi, having just come from the women’s locker rooms, and walk straight into someone. It’s like walking into a brick wall and kind of hurts. You stumble and let out a sound in pained surprise, but manage to stay on your feet for the most part— the joy at that moment of success passes quickly when you become aware of the cool feeling seeping down your thigh and stomach.

Before even looking to see who you walked into, your gaze is directed down to see what was spilt on you— it’s light pink, and the sugary sweet scent that brushes your nose and sticky sensation that begins to make itself known on your skin are something you recognise instantly.

Strawberry milk.

You look up in something akin to horror, but the expression all but falls from your face when you see who the culprit is.

Jungkook stands there looking very much like a deer caught in headlights, drink carton crumpled and empty in his hand now that its contents are all over your front. As you gaze at him you watch the tip of his ears turn bright red, eyes wide and so unguarded you swear you can see the thoughts whipping through his mind beyond them. You also see the instant regret and mortification that washes over his boyish features as he realises what has just happened and who he has spilt his drink on.

“y-y/n—” he stutters, voice caught in his throat. Whatever he was planning on saying is quickly overpowered by an obnoxious voice from his side.

You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi was walking alongside Jungkook until you hear him speak, “Wow, you know what you were coming around that corner so hard and fast that this is on you, y/n.”

When Yoongi first started talking, Jungkook had seemed relieved, but now a sense of panic has taken over his features. 

“N-no! I am so sorry! This was my fault, I shouldn’t have had it open when I couldn’t even drink it yet. I just really like strawberry milk, and…” He’s so endearingly remorseful as he speaks, big puppy eyes looking apologetically into your own like he’s searching for any hint of forgiveness there to spare.

For a moment you’re absolutely blindsided by the way he just made your heart squeeze in your chest with how damn cute he is, but you recover just in time to catch it as the shocked expression on Yoongi’s face melds into something devious and fitting for his bastardly title.

“Right, he’s right, totally our bad,” Yoongi says, doing a complete 180 and bewildering both you and Seulgi beside you. “Wow, look at your pants, totally soaked through man. Here, come with me— it’s only fair we help grab you something to change into.”

“What—” you don’t get to finish before the cat-faced bastard grabs you by the arm and begins dragging you down the hall in the direction you came from. Seulgi and Jungkook remain in place, stunned by the turn in events. 

“Jungkook, head to practice and get them started! I want some pyramid practice, and then some tumbling from you and the others. Chop chop!” — is all Yoongi throws over his shoulder in dismissal, dragging you where you now realise is one of the other locker rooms. You gape at him as he walks straight up to the one that has been locked for months and opens it with a key.

Catching your expression, he shrugs. “Sometimes you just need a place of your own to hoard things.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about until you step in and see a table in the corner near the doorway piled high with first aid supplies, twiggy sticks and energy drinks. Your bewildered subsequent scan of the room for more treasured objects is cut short when a lump of clothing smacks you in the face.

You just barely manage to fumble it into your grasp, unable to swallow your groan when you see what it is from the pattern alone.

“It’s the only thing spare,” Yoongi says, radiating true goblin energy. You don’t trust him as far as you can throw him right now but you don’t know where to look to disprove him. “Try not to get my cheerleaders too worked up.”

You have an inkling as to why he’s done this from his words, but can’t confirm it right now. You huff, moving off to one of the stalls. 

“If people get flashed, that’s on you.”

Ten minutes later sees you back in the open gymnasium with cool air brushing your legs that usually only get to see the light of day through rips in your jeans. You set your team to their tasks and drills already, so now you’re left alone with your thoughts. You know for sure now why Yoongi made you change into the cheerleading skirt.

Because ever since you walked out in it and nearly made him fall flat on his face in shock, Jungkook hasn’t been able to keep the blush off his cheeks or his eyes away from you for more than a few minutes at a time. You feel slightly empowered, contrary to how you thought the dangerously short piece of clothing was going to make you feel. 

You have a nice body, you’re comfortable admitting it, and the way that your unplanned flaunting of it seems to be affecting Jungkook… well it’s a nice stroke of the ego, you won’t lie, but it also makes your stomach flip giddily. God, you want him. You’ve always thought he was cute but ever since he joined cheer and rocked up in that skirt like a sweet, hot fool, it was over for you. He’s so… ugh.

Trucking through the practice of your team is, for once, a struggle. It’s so hard not to look over every few seconds to catch Jungkook when you can feel his gaze on you, and you know that once you give in you won’t be able to help being distracted afterwards. It’s a miracle you get through to the end of it while remaining sane. 

As your practice wraps up for the day, you allow yourself a glimpse to the side at last. What you see is a sweaty, panting Jungkook, the muscles of his arms straining as he holds up a brunette you vaguely recall as Tzuyu above his head. Wow, you’re actually a little startled at how much arousal just washed through you— is this normal? Maybe you’re more whipped than you thought. You don’t know.

What you do know, however, is that you want that boy, and right now especially you want to mess with him. Call it a con of being around such bastardous friends all the time, but you’re really feeling the urge. You barely manage to hold yourself back, marvelling at the animal he seems to reduce you to with just a flex of his bicep.

The practice for your basketball team finishes before cheerleading; Yoongi is a ruthless coach and relentless when it comes to formations and perfecting routines. More often than not their practices end long after yours. As your girls begin to filter out of the gymnasium, the cheer squad are still going. You make to follow after, but your name is called from the other side of the gym by a voice you recognise but know instantly shouldn’t be here. 

“y/n! Come here! Don’t ignore me!” Seokjin is the fiend in question, hollering at such an unmistakable frequency that you couldn’t ignore it if you tried. It’s like he’s followed in the footsteps of cats and has pinpointed the exact frequency that a baby’s cry is at, and is now using it to his advantage. You turn, wary, and see him waving like a dumbass. “Come here! Don’t make me pspspsps!”

Now annoyed, you stomp over if only so you can get within beating range. As soon as you reach a few feet away he ducks behind Yoongi though, so you don’t get to follow through on your caveman instincts to beat him over the head with a rock.

“What?” you ask, giving him a stinky look. “Are you like, stalking me or something? Why are you so obsessed with me?”

You can tell he wants to laugh, but his instinct to rile you up overpowers the humour of what you said. “You think you’re worth stalking? I don’t need to stalk you to know that your day consists almost entirely of eating, shitting, and staring at a certain ass.”

Well, he has you there. You shrug, “I’m a simple girl.”

Seokjin is momentarily bewildered that you didn’t rise to his bait and Yoongi chokes on his laughter beside you, the sound coming out squeaky. You’re glad someone is laughing, it makes your dick hard when people find you funny. Again, you’re a simple girl.

“Nice outfit, by the way,” Seokjin says. Apparently it doesn’t take him long to recover, and he’s already shifted topics. 

Yoongi, who had broken away to guide his team for a moment, chimes back in at the taller male’s comment. “It’s all apart of the keikaku, man. Everything is going perfectly. My golden boy is almost too fun to torment. I’ve tasted power and now I don’t know how to stop.”

“Who?” Seokjin asks, more out of habit than anything, before looking over to Yoongi’s minions and letting out a sound of realisation. “Ahh… Mister Jungkook.”

You swear you see the male in question, who is waiting his turn to begin the tumbling routine Yoongi has changed them onto, stiffen. You’re not sure whether it is a trick of the light or not, though, because in the next second he’s shuffling forward to second in line, juggling his weight from foot to foot with restless energy. His eyes are trained on his teammates flipping across the matts. 

“So you know too? y/n, you big-mouthed whore!” Seokjin exclaims, pinning you with an exaggerated look of scandal. Jungkook trips slightly in his step as he moves to the front of the line, barely a few metres away.

You don’t bother defending yourself, since Yoongi speaks before you can anyway. “That y/n likes Jungkook and has wanted to peg his cute ass since forever? Yeah, I know.”

The timing of Yoongi’s response is truly unfortunate. As he started speaking, Jungkook began his run up— and it seems that whatever snippet he heard as he started were enough to throw him off completely. He goes into the front flip kind of wonky, and you have a feeling of dread creep up as you watch him.

He doesn’t do the mid-air turns he is meant to, and instead goes to land after just one flip— the timing is off, though, and your breath hisses through your teeth and you physically cringe as you watch his ankle roll upon landing. 

“Ah SHIT!” he yelps, quickly dropping to the mat and removing pressure from his foot. You feel frozen as you watch, a large number of his teammates running over and asking him if he’s okay.

“Oh feck,” Yoongi says, checking his watch as he mutters to himself. “Shit. Okay we need to practice and only have the gym for another forty-five minutes, but he needs that looked at asap. Who…”

Barely a split-second passes before he’s looking right at you imploringly, with an inappropriately devious glint in the back of his eyes. 

“y/n, you’re free and you have first aid training right? Can you take him to get that wrapped and iced up?” He’s not even done asking you before he’s pushing you in the direction of the male currently curled on the floor. “That room should still be open— I forgot to lock it earlier.”

“Wait, I actually have—” you’re about to let him know about the mountain of schoolwork you have to catch up on, but of course he’s not having any of it. He’s already barking at his squad.

“Okay, everyone, back off and back to tumbling! y/n here will take care of our golden boy, we have the gym for the next forty-five minutes and we’re gonna make the most of it, damn it!”

Yoongi abandons you at Jungkook’s side, and at his command the rest of the cheerleader begrudgingly disperse— you think you catch a few of the female ones giving you the stink eye at their lost opportunity, and you know it shouldn’t stroke your ego but still it does. 

“I guess this is how the Kookie crumbled, huh,” you say, embarrassed that he could have heard all of what Yoongi said and attempting to cope using the classic— humour. 

Jungkook, who had turned his wide eyes and red face to you the second you started talking, now seems to be blushing harder. Evidently, for a number of reasons, he is mortified. It’s like he’s trying to hide behind the long curls that have fallen into his face. Needless to say, it’s not successful, and now both of you are embarrassed. One of you needs to take the lead.

But right now neither of you are wearing the pants.

“Alright, let’s get that looked at,” you say, wincing as you look at his ankle already beginning to swell. “Arms up.”

He obeys instantly and without question, and you’re torn between the primal powers within you wanting to both cuddle him and to drop your panties then and there. 

Getting Jungkook to a standing position while he can only use one leg is harder than you could have imagined, but you know that there’s no way you would have been able to lift him had he not helped you carry his weight. Once he’s upright and his arm is around your shoulder (still panting slightly and glistening with sweat, as you’re trying not to think about) you begin the arduous journey to the locker room Yoongi showed you earlier. 

Jungkook doesn’t really say anything during the trip there, and neither do you— except he has an excuse, considering he’s probably in a fair bit of pain right now. You don’t have an excuse, except that you’re trying desperately not to think about how you can feel each hard line of his body against you right now. It’s a whole-brain engaging kind of activity.

Thankfully, the room is unlocked as Yoongi said, and you grab a towel to lay across one of the cleaner looking benches on the far side of the room— just because its cleaner than the others doesn’t mean it’s clean, per se. You smile when you see Jungkook’s thankful expression.

“Right,” you say, staying in front of where he’s sitting for a moment as you shake your arms out; the boy really is just all muscle, honestly. “Pop your ankle up on the bench, and I’ll grab some ice and stuff to wrap it.”

Jungkook nods, obeying wordlessly. His cheeks still are tainted the slightest pink, and he’s making a point to avoid meeting your gaze. Fighting a smile, you move to Yoongi’s stash and grab what you need, spotting some high-end painkillers and immediately adding them to the pile in your arms.

When you return to his side, you seat yourself on the bench beside his leg— thankfully, they’re wide enough that neither your butt nor Jungkook’s leg has to be sacrificed for the fit. You go through the motions with him, poking and prodding and bending to assess the damage; it’s just a bad sprain, but damn if each watery look he gets at the pain doesn’t make you want to coddle him to death. 

Surprisingly, he’s still silent as you go about icing and wrapping his ankle. You contemplated filling the silence but you’re not good at chit chat or small talk, so refrain and settle for humming softly instead. Considering the rollercoaster of feelings he’s spun you through today, you’re almost disappointed that a wrap on his ankle is all that’s going to come of this. 

Which is stupid, of course. You know. You digress.

You’re still somewhat disappointed as you finish up, popping the excess bandage back in its container. “Okay! You’ll need to…”

You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, and for once he doesn’t shy away from it— there’s something about them, the endless chocolate depths and the doe-eyed look, that completely disarms you for a moment. Blinking, it takes all your might to stop yourself from studying as you continue. “Ahem, uh… you’ll need to keep it elevated, when possible. Compressing it is ideal. Also, for swelling, ice it for 20-30 minutes every 2-3 hours for the first day or so…”

He blinks up at you, and you smile. “Any questions?”

Something intriguing crosses his gaze and he bites his lip, flushing slightly. Oh, he is doing a number on your willpower. You need to get out of here.

“Yeah, uh…” He clears his throat, continuing straight away. You watch even more colour rush to his cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “About earlier… when I stacked it… Was what Yoongi said true?”

Well. You were not… expecting that. For a moment you’re stunned into silence, self control hanging by a thread. “What… Yoongi said?”

Jungkook gives you a look like he can’t believe you’re making him say it. “That you, um…”

Humiliated but deciding to face it head on, you ask him with your own cheeks heating, “Are you asking about the pegging or the, uh… the liking you part?”

To your surprise, Jungkook chokes and stiffens in place, eyes shooting wide and face and ears going beet red. “I, um… I only heard the liking part…”

OH. Well. You kind of want to die, but… at least now he knows?

 …You’re gonna throw yourself off a bridge.

He must mistake the cause of your silence for something else, because he seems to panic. “B-because, um, I know you know how I feel, and it’s okay if you don’t um— I was just wondering—”

In the midst of his spiel, you take a seat on the bench, closer to him than you were last time. It only makes him grow more flustered before you press a finger to his lips to shush him. He gets the message and falls silent instantly, making your heart skip a beat at his ready obedience. God, are you an animal?! Really?!

“I was trying to track you down to confirm it, you know,” you say, shoving your embarrassment into a box in the far reaches of your mind. Time to swallow your pride.  “But you kept avoiding me.”

Jungkook’s eyes are still wide. “Oh… sorry.”

You smile at his soft, uttered apology. Testingly, tentatively, you shift your hand and rest it on his hip. His whole body stiffens once more, but its more in surprise than discomfort. “What would you do if it was true, hm?”

Like a deer caught in headlights, he’s momentarily speechless. When your thumb rubs against the hard line of his hip bone, drawing a shudder, he jerks back into motion.

“Oh my god, you—” he’s dazed before he narrows his eyes at you, voice dropping to a whisper that’s somewhat tinged with hurt. “Are you teasing me?”

You manage to hold back the laugh but can’t help the smile that rises at his words. “I always get the urge to tease you, Jungkook, but it’s not to be cruel.” You lean forward, holding his gaze. “I probably never grew out of that kindergarten stage.”

It takes a second for what you said to sink in. The way that hope enters his eyes is so cute that you’re humiliated at the urge to squeal that rises. “So, you…”

It’s embarrassing to say the words out loud, especially considering the filth running through your mind right now, and you can’t quite bring yourself to. Teasingly, you bring your other hand to his thigh, brushing the edge of the skirt with your thumb and enjoying the way he shivers. “It’s embarrassing to say out loud, so if you want to hear it, you’re gonna have to work for it.” 

The soft, excited gasp he lets out emboldens you to carry out your next action— you move the hand on his hip, brushing your fingertips up the side of his slim waist before bringing them back down to rest over his crotch. 

To your complete and utter surprise, there is already some firmness there that greets you. At your curious gaze, he flushes pink.

“It’s the skirt,” he confesses, averting his gaze to your lap for the briefest second. “You look really good in it…”

Not that your ego needs more stroking, but you’re happy to let it happen anyway. You hum, beginning to move your hand— he stifles a gasp.

“I know,” you say, grinning. It’s ridiculous how your stomach flips, arousal beginning to trickle into your abdomen and ache in the apex of your thighs. “I could feel you looking at me. I caught you a few times, too.”

He’s embarrassed, you can tell, but the current situation doesn’t leave much room for dignity as it is anyway. Still, you can’t help but tease him some more, voice soft as you rub over his growing bulge and lean closer. “Do you always look at me, Jungkook?”

He squirms, a gasp slipping out before he attempts to send you a glare. “This is embarrassing,” he whines. You raise a brow, increasing the pressure of your hand, and he is quick to amend his response in a whisper, “…Yes.”

“And what do you imagine, when you look at me?” you ask, unable to deny the thrill running through your veins and lighting heat in your abdomen. You pause your ministrations only to move your hand to the top of his skirt and slip beneath the material. This time a moan slips out before he can stop it. “Is it things like this?”

He lets his head fall back against the wall, looking at you through hazy, lidded eyes. “Yes,” he admits, and for how readily he supplied the answer you reward him by slipping your hand beneath the rest of the layers over his hips and wrapping your fingers around his hardening length.

He whines— actually whines— and rolls his hips into your hand, thick thigh tensing beneath the grip of your other hand. The resulting wash of arousal that floods over you is so sudden it almost makes you dizzy.

“Oh, you’re a good boy,” you mutter it without much thought, but surprise filters through you when you feel his length twitch and flush with heat in your hold at the words. Ah— he likes a bit of praise, does he? You slide your free hand up his thigh, working the waistband of his skirt and bike shorts down until they rest just past the beginning of his thighs. It’s like you’re looking at a work of art, you marvel slightly— the curls that begin to trail down a little below his belly button, the sculpted line of his hip bones and the hints of his abs that show as his body tenses. You’re just one woman.

“Does it feel as good as you imagined, Jungkook?” you aimed to speak louder but it comes out sort of breathy. You trail your fingers down the tan skin of his abdomen before gripping the material of his bottoms and using the moment to free his length.

If you didn’t have such a firm grip on it, you know it would have sprung back against his stomach— you try not to let your surprise show, either, because you could feel that he was packing, but seeing it is another thing and your stomach flips in giddy anticipation. Jungkook’s chest heaves as his breath quickens, eyes boring into you and hands bunching in the material of the punishment skirt. You stroke your hand along his length, pressing your thumb along the underside and relishing in the shudder it elicits.

“y/n,” he whines softly, face flushing as his cock twitches in your hold. Whether he’s forgotten you even asked a question or simply is too overwhelmed to answer right now, you don’t know. 

As for how you’re doing— you’re so turned on right now that in all honesty you don’t know what to do with yourself. A solution comes to mind quickly and you don’t have the usual self control you do to stop yourself. 

Mindful of his injured leg, you rise, keeping your grip on him as you do so. His lidded gaze follows you, soft gasps escaping him all the while.

“Give me your leg,” you instruct, relishing how quickly he listens. Presented with his thigh, you swing one of your legs over the other side of the bench and rest on it so that as little weight as possible is on his bad leg, your knees brushing his hips. As soon as you’re lowered, you can’t help but gasp and roll your hips— the only thing separating you and the smooth skin and hard muscle of his thigh is the thin layer of your damp panties, and the stimulation on your clit makes your entire core throb in arousal.

Apparently this is also one of the things he’s imagined, because Jungkook lets out a low, gasping moan and rolls his hips up into your hand— which, of course, makes his thigh muscles tense and shift, rubbing oh so nicely against your clit. You almost fall off from the jolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine, free hand shooting to grab his bicep, “Ah, Jungkook!”

He apparently has the sense of mind to support you by using the arm in your hold to reach and grip your hip. Generous amounts of precum have started to bead at his tip, and you drag your hand up his girth, collecting it on your thumb and smearing it down his length for lubrication. It elicits a whine, another roll of his hips, and like that you settle into a rhythm of sorts.

“y/n.” Each gasp and moan he lets out have to be specially designed to ruin you, you decide. He seeks your gaze with hazy, lust-ridden eyes. “Please kiss me.”

It’s a brazen request coming from him of all people, and you’re all too happy to oblige. You lean forward, the rock of your hips making you shudder, and connect his lips with your own— he’d sought your kiss as you did so, craning his neck forward and awaiting your lips. It’s a heated kiss from the beginning, given the situation— you don’t fight for dominance so much as assume it from the start. Each press of your tongue, graze of your teeth, has a new sound tumbling from his throat and into your mouth. It makes your heart race even harder than it already was.

It doesn’t take long for tension to begin to build in your abdomen, and you know if you’re already feeling it then he must be even closer. Not wanting this to end just yet, you force yourself to slow your hand down, breaking the kiss and shifting to press your mouth to his neck.

“Wh-what—” he gasps, shuddering as your thumb plays with his slit, rhythm slowed to a stop. Both of you are panting, almost, and you suckle a mark into the junction of his neck before pulling back with a grin.

“Surely that isn’t all you’ve imagined, Jungkook.” You lean forward, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth before pulling back— the way he chases your lips makes your heart squeeze. “What now? Be a good boy, tell me.”

Far from being embarrassed at this point and all but a slave to the haze of lust in the air, Jungkook’s breath hitches and he responds, somewhat tentative if anything, “… ride me.”

“Good boy,” you breathe, offering him a proud smile. He preens beneath your fond look.

You shift, and you think that he must have expected you to stand up fully and remove your clothes, or at least your bottoms, but to his surprise you simply shuffle up and reach beneath your skirt, slipping your panties aside and aligning his member with your entrance. You’re so turned on that you’ve soaked through your underwear, and you know you’ve smeared enough precum along his length that lubrication will be no problem. So you simply lower yourself down until his head parts your lips and begins to sink into you.

At the sheer size of him even as just the tip enters your cunt, you have to halt, gasping, “Fuck!”

If he wanted to respond, you don’t really give him time to; as soon as you get your bearings you continue sinking down onto him. There is a slight burn, of course, but you’re so turned on that it fades quicker than you can register. The sensation of him, the throb, his girth and the way he splits your walls, stretching you more and more as you seat yourself on him— it’s indescribable, and all you can offer is that it feels so good you swear tears are gonna prick at your eyes. From the look on his face, brows scrunched and mouth parted as a long, low groan slips out, you know it must feel just as good for him.

When the back of your thighs press against the top of his his and he’s fully sheathed in you, you feel like you’re about to lose your mind— this position has him so deep in your pussy that with each miniscule shift the tip of his cock presses against a spot that sends delicious jolts of pleasure up your spine. Honestly, if you weren’t so intent on seeing this through, you think you could cum from that sensation alone. 

Even as you’re in a mess of pleasure and a haze of desire, you can’t help but tease him some more. You clench your insides, rolling your hips— the sharp, lilting moan he lets out makes your stomach flip. “What now, baby boy?”

You hold his hips down with your hand, feeling them twitch with the urge to rock up into you. A long, drawn groan escapes him. “Do you want to see me? More of me? Or do you want to feel me?”

You take his hand into your hold and guide it up to your chest, slipping it beneath your shirt and bra to cup your breast. His breath hitches, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinks and attempts to clear the haze from his vision. You relish in the control you have over him until his thumb brushes your nipple and he pinches it, tweaking it instinctively. A moan tears from you, the shock of pleasure that results making you clench around him again; his free hand scrambles for purchase against your thigh, fingers digging in as pleasure washes over him in turn.

Your breath is coming a little faster now. Leaving his hand at your chest, you move it to drag up his neck before threading your fingers in the damp curls at the back of his neck. Finding a firm grip, you tug his head back ever so lightly— it elicits a new moan that you haven’t heard yet, and you really begin to think this boy will be your undoing. 

“What do you want?” you ask again, rolling your hips once more. It isn’t fair of you, you know, since you can hardly think yourself from the sensations. “You want me to move, baby boy?”

He nods, attempting to speak through the moan caught in his throat. “Please… fuck me, y/n.”

Well, who are you to say no to that?

Happy to oblige, you engage your thighs and begin to rise— the sensation of him dragging against your walls makes both of you gasp, and you almost falter in your movements from the feeling alone. Gathering your wits as best as you can, you continue your movements, successfully rising and then seating yourself once more. Unable to withhold much longer, you roll your hips and begin to set the two of you into a rhythm.

You stopped paying heed to the noises escaping you a while ago, but you don’t doubt that the sinful sounds tumbling from Jungkook’s mouth as you ride him are a large contributor to the way the tension in your abdomen quickly begins to knot and bundle once more.

Even with as heavenly as it feels, it’s hard to keep up momentum when your thighs begin to burn. Thankfully, Jungkook has more than enough stamina in his thigh muscles for the both of you, and when he senses your fatigue, he brings his grip to your hips to hold them in place before rocking his own up and beginning to fuck up into you.

Needless to say, the pace he sets is much faster and much harder than the one you had. Swears tumble softly from your mouth at the change in intensity of pleasure as it shoots through you, orgasm already approaching much faster than anticipated. Your hands come to grip his on your hips with a cry of his name, knees turning to jelly. 

Movement against your hand surprises you, but not as much as the sensation of Jungkook’s hand shifting to thread his fingers with yours. You honestly feel your heart burst, and as he fucks up into you that bit harder you can’t help the way you clutch his hand like a lifeline, the sweet moment quick to pass but most definitely not forgotten. 

“G-gonna cum,” you gasp, eyes closing and allowing the slap of skin and Jungkook’s gasping moans to overtake your senses. You don’t forget to indulge him in some praise. “Such a g-good boy, making me feel so g-good.”

He whines at your words, and right as your pleasure approaches its peak you feel his hips stutter and slam up into yours harder than all the times before. The stimulation of that spot deep inside of you is all that’s needed to push you into the throes of your orgasm, and it washes over you more intensely than you’ve ever felt before as you clench and tense with a cry of his name.

Distantly, you feel his own grip on you tighten, and his hips still as they’re pressed against yours. Warmth floods your core, cock throbbing as he empties inside you, and you swear you hear the softest of confessions uttered to the air as he joins you in your high.

He comes down before you do, although you’re not far behind him, and for a moment you sit in place, panting and attempting to come back to your senses. He’s softened inside you slightly, but when you shift and clench on instinct as you do so, feeling cum slide down your thighs, he twitches  and throbs inside you.

Taken aback, your gaze whips to him and now that his shame has returned to him, he has the decency to blush. Well, apparently Jeon Jungkook’s stamina really is no joke. Maybe he really was born to be an athlete.

“Greedy. You want more?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and a thrilling mix of fear and excitement dances in his eyes.

“y/n—” he rasps, desperate. You slide off of him, making both of you groan, but return to your previous position on his thigh. He moans as he feels his own cum leak out of you and onto his skin. When your hand comes to wrap around his slick member, he jolts and whines.

“You wanna tell me what you said just before?” you ask, beginning to twist your wrist and stroke his cock ever so slowly. He shakes his head, whether at your question or the overstimulation, you’re not sure— you know it’s probably a bit of both though, considering he twitches in your hold.

“‘S embarrassing,” he murmurs, back arching as you increase your pace just a little. “Ah, y/n!”

“I see. You know, I think I can get you to cum again,” you say, changing tactics. 

Jungkook shakes his head, strands of his raven hair plastered to his forehead in sweat. “I can’t—”

“You should tell me,” you say, teasing lilt to your tone. He whines, rocking his hips into and then away from the sensations. 

When he shakes his head again, letting it fall back against the wall and baring the column of his throat to you, you jump on his acceptance of the situation. You pick up speed, rolling your wrist and moving in tune with the shifting of his body. It doesn’t take very long before his oversensitivity throws him into another orgasm, stronger than the last but dryer. The few beads of cum that escape seem ever so tantalising as they roll down his length, drawing your gaze.

“You gonna tell me now?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Jungkook slumps against the wall, breathing heavy and sweat glistening on his golden skin. He looks at you through heavily lidded eyes.

“It’s still embarrassing,” he whines, breathy in his exertion.

Right, well. You know what he said, but you want to hear him say it with his own mouth once more and you’ll stay here all night to make that happen if you need to.

Of course, it’s not until a while and another heated moment or two later that Jungkook realises this and gives in.

His confession is so much sweeter on your ears the second time, and of course, as promised, you reward him with your own. It’s worth it for the way it makes his eyes shine, you think. 

Jeon Jungkook really has you well and truly whipped. 

a/n: thank u for reading and i hope u liked it! im super excited to have completed my first commission and would really appreciate it if u let me know what u think by sending me an ask and liking & rbing this with ur thoughts!! i read & appreciate everything!! thank u !! love u !! peace out !! :D

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 1

A/N: i am Very Very excited for this enemies to lovers au, and also just a quick message that this is about their characters! some characters might seem more villainous than they actually are (even on the smp) and scott and jimmy will absolutely end up being in a romantic relationship (even if it might take a while for them to get there >:)). also, i planned this fic before xornoth was introduced and before sausage started the assassin's guild thing, so if you were hoping for either of those things in this fic, i'm sorry to say that they will not be featured here! (xornoth may be hinted at though, no promises!) pls talk to me in the reblogs i am lonely /hj

Warnings: arguing, flirting, teasing/banter, threats of violence

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

-

Jimmy liked Katherine, he really did! She was one of his first allies, and even though she could come off as a little intense for the ruler of a flower forest, Jimmy really valued her friendship. However, her insistence on staying neutral… it bothered Jimmy. Or really, what bothered Jimmy was the fact that she insisted on having “House Blossom Alliance” meetings at her castle. And specifically, it was who was at these meetings that bothered Jimmy. Sure, there was Joel, Lizzie, and Pixl, three of Jimmy’s own allies, but the rest of the group wasn’t exactly on the best terms with him. Gem and Pearl were alright, he supposed, but Fwhip and Sausage were absolutely terrible. And then there was Scott. There wasn’t anything outwardly bad about the winged elf ruler, but he just got on Jimmy’s nerves. He was just irritating, with his stupid “better-than-you” attitude, stupid smug grin, stupid perfect hair- he was just… stupid. Well, not really. Scott was actually really clever. But he always flaunted when he was right about something, which frankly was often. But he didn’t have to be so smug every time Jimmy was wrong about something.

“Jimmy, what do you know about defensive mob strategy? You can’t even keep people out of your empire,” Scott scoffed, as Jimmy was attempting to offer some advice on how to keep a base safe from monsters. Jimmy glared at the winged elf sitting across from him.

“Because I like to try and keep my empire welcoming, instead of being all high and mighty in the mountains,” Jimmy shot back. Scott rolled his eyes.

“More welcome to attack, Jimmy. How many times have you and Sausage squabbled over something inconsequential?” Scott asked dryly, getting an offended “hey!” from Sausage that he ignored, focusing only on Jimmy.

“Well… okay so maybe I’m not that great at defending against people, but mobs I can handle! They’re predictable, people aren’t,” Jimmy huffed. Scott smirked at Jimmy, and there it was- that smug expression when Jimmy was proven wrong about something.

“Maybe some people aren’t… but you sure are. I knew you’d get all riled up if I started pressing,” Scott taunted. Jimmy shot up from his chair, hand slamming down on the table as he glared at Scott and ignored the concerned voices of his allies.

“I haven’t even begun to be ‘riled up,’ Scott,” Jimmy fumed, hand lightly resting on the hilt of his sword. Scott calmly rose from his seat, still smirking and looking like he was enjoying this far too much.

“What, you gonna fight me, fish boy?” Scott crooned, hand resting on the hilt of his own weapon.

“Maybe I will,” Jimmy growled, and Scott’s smirk grew into a grin.

“Oh, you are getting more riled up… can’t say I’m not enjoying the view,” Scott said in a near purr. Jimmy’s face grew warm as he gritted his teeth and tightened his hand on the hilt of his sword. Scott didn’t look nervous at all, only mildly intrigued, like Jimmy was a puzzle he was seconds away from solving.

“That’s enough!” Katherine shouted, jumping up from her seat at the head of the table and looking at the two of them with a disapproving glare. Scott and Jimmy instantly looked a little embarrassed, both finally remembering that they were in a room full of other rulers, and that it was supposed to be a peaceful meeting as they exchanged various tactics and information on trading.

“C’mon man, it’s not worth it,” Pixl murmured, gently tugging on Jimmy’s arm. Jimmy glared at Scott one last time before he sat back down. Scott looked entirely too pleased as he sat back down gracefully- how did someone even do that, sit down so fluidly like it was a part of a dance?!- and smiled far too innocently at Katherine. She was not having it, frowning with disapproval at both Scott and Jimmy until Scott sheepishly looked down at the table. Katherine sighed, seeming semi-satisfied as she sat back down.

“I think I’m gonna have to implement a rule about weapons at the next meeting… now don’t you two have something to say to each other?” Katherine said expectantly. Scott and Jimmy both looked at Katherine with confused expressions.

“Haven’t they said enough to each other?” Fwhip asked, sounding bored as he leaned back in his chair. Katherine rolled her eyes at Fwhip, and looked back at Scott and Jimmy.

“What I meant is that these two owe each other an apology,” Katherine said pointedly.

“What have I got to apologize for?! Scott started it!” Jimmy protested.

“It’s not my fault Jimmy’s easy to get all hot and bothered,” Scott said with an air of indifference, but the smirk directed at Jimmy told a different story. Jimmy’s face burned again.

“You stop that,” Jimmy scowled.

“Make me,” Scott replied smoothly.

“I’m confused, are they flirting or fighting now?” Sausage whispered far too loudly to Pearl. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head at Sausage.

“We’re not flirting!” Jimmy protested.

“Yeah, I can do way better than Jimmy,” Scott scoffed.

“Wha- hey! What’s that supposed to mean? I am a catch, thank you very much,” Jimmy huffed, crossing his arms.

“Oh, so you want to be flirting now?” Scott crooned with a smirk.

“What?! No! You’re infuriating,” Jimmy shouted.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you,” Scott shot back smoothly. Jimmy opened his mouth to reply, but was halted by a frustrated groan from Katherine.

“You know what? Fine! I declare this meeting adjourned. Everyone out! See you next week,” Katherine exclaimed with a sigh.

“Finally,” Fwhip muttered, getting up from the table first and striding out of the castle. Gem shook her head at his retreating figure, and turned to Katherine with an apologetic smile.

“What he means is thank you for inviting us to the meeting. I look forward to next week- and I’m sure Fwhip does too!” she said, gently patting Katherine’s hand before getting up and following after Fwhip. Pearl and Sausage were the next two to leave, thanking Katherine for inviting them as well. Then finally Scott left, simply bowing his head in respect to Katherine, but smirking at Jimmy before he took off.

“I hate that guy,” Jimmy muttered as he watched Scott fly away.

“I think you’ve made that clear, Jimmy. You’ve gotta stop picking fights you can’t win,” Katherine admonished with a sigh.

“I could have taken him!” Jimmy protested.

“And even if you couldn’t have, I would have avenged you,” Joel added. Lizzie and Pixl nodded in agreement, while Katherine buried her face in her hands.

“Peaceful! These meetings are supposed to be peaceful! I am definitely going to have people leave their weapons at the door at the next meeting,” she sighed, bringing her face up from her hands to lean back in her chair. Jimmy frowned, feeling a bit bad.

“I- sorry, Katherine. I shouldn’t have let Scott get under my skin so easily. I promise next meeting I won’t make a big fuss out of nothing,” Jimmy said solemnly, looking to Katherine with an apologetic smile. She smiled back, but it was a little strained and exasperated.

“It’s alright, Jimmy. Honestly Scott is just as much to blame as you are here. I just wished you two would have apologized to each other- you apologized to me just fine!” Katherine pointed out, her smile turning more bright and encouraging. Jimmy frowned, nose wrinkling slightly.

“Yeah, because I like you,” Jimmy huffed. Katherine giggled, leaning forward in her chair to clasp her hand over Jimmy’s and give it a light squeeze.

“That’s very sweet, but sometimes you’ve gotta apologize to people you don’t like, Jimmy,” Katherine said pointedly.

“From the way they were talking at the meeting, ‘like’ might be too weak of a word,” Pixl commented dryly. Joel poorly hid a laugh behind a cough, while Lizzie elbowed him while trying to hide her own amused smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Jimmy asked indignantly. Pixl looked at him blankly, raising an eyebrow.

“You told him that you were a catch, dude. How else are we supposed to interpret that?” Pixl replied with a laugh. Jimmy’s face flushed for what felt like the twentieth time that day.

“I wasn’t thinking straight!” Jimmy protested.

“Clearly,” Lizzie teased with a grin, no longer trying to hide it. The table erupted into laughter, and Jimmy couldn’t help but laugh too, even if it was at his own expense, and even if his friends were wrong. He was not interested in Scott in that way in the slightest, thank you very much. Their argumentative banter just got a little… carried away, that’s all. And he wasn’t saying he was a catch so that Scott would think so… he just had confidence in himself! And Scott was trying to wear down that confidence, Jimmy was just proving him wrong! At least, that’s what Jimmy told himself.

“So this is how the betrayal begins- first you fabricate an attraction to someone I despise-” Jimmy cut off his dramatic monologue with his own laughter, only causing the group to laugh louder.

“We’ll set you up with Sausage next,” Pixl said with a laugh.

“Now that is the ultimate betrayal,” Jimmy said with a shudder, grinning at Pixl all the while.

“Stop it, stop it- no one is betraying anyone! I’ll keel over from laughter with these backstabbing plans at this rate,” Katherine said, wiping at her eyes as the last of her laughs subsided.

“Alright, alright, if you insist. I should get going anyway, I’ve got a long trip back to Pixandria,” Pixl said, standing from the table.

“Safe travels! See you next week!” Katherine said with a wave. Jimmy and the others said their goodbyes, and with a nod and a smile Pixl equipped his elytra and walked out of the castle to fly off.

“Guess we should leave too, I’m sure you’ve got things to be working on,” Joel said, standing up from the table. Lizzie and Jimmy followed his lead. The three of them would often journey back to their empires together, seeing as they were all in fairly close range to each other. Katherine rose from the table with a sigh.

“Yeah, I’ve got some things to sort out. I’ll see you three next week- and I’m serious about the ‘leaving the weapons at the door’ rule,” she said, looking at each of them pointedly.

“Oh I’ll make sure these two follow through with that!” Lizzie said brightly.

“I was talking about you too, Lizzie,” Katherine said flatly. Lizzie placed a hand over her heart in mock offense.

“Me?! Oh please, next to these two I’m downright peaceful! Now we really must be going, nice seeing you!” Lizzie said far too innocently, grabbing both Joel and Jimmy by their arms and all but dragging them out of the castle.

“Oh uh, bye then! I guess,” Jimmy said with a lopsided grin and a wave from his free hand. Katherine shook her head fondly, waving goodbye back. The three of them made their way outside with only some minor grumbling from Joel about how he could walk, Lizzie. She only patted his cheek with a smile before equipping her elytra, Joel and Jimmy doing the same. And as the three allies took off into the skies and off to their own empires, Jimmy’s thoughts couldn’t help but wander back to Scott. Maybe he should try and patch things up, like Katherine suggested? He was a very good ally of Katherine’s as well- they were even planning a plushie business together! And he didn’t want Katherine to be stuck between another conflict again, like she had for all of his issues with Sausage. But how exactly Jimmy was going to fix things with Scott, he wasn’t sure. The winged elf was stubborn, and frankly so was Jimmy. It was unlikely either of them were going to give in or come to any sort of compromise. At the very least, Jimmy just hoped he could keep their arguments to just that- arguments. He couldn’t afford another war.

-

MCYT Fic Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed! And if you just want to specifically be tagged in this fic, I am open to making a specific taglist for it!): @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

[minor-solemnity]

Request:

Pairing: Tom x oc/reader

Summary:

Tom and oc go to the slug club yearly galla and oc is the loud Gryffindor 2nd in class and her and tom have been nemesis for long but the sexual tension is real and then tom sees her dancing with potter ..

Slughorn is like “ahh two of my favourite students” and he introduced them to a lot of people and a little girl spills something on tom and oc defends the girl and slughorn is like why dont you help him change oc ( as tom had some injury and was drenched and couldn’t change on his own ) and when they fight all the way to his dorm and she only agrees because slughorn tells her to and then when she helps him out of his shirt there is a lot of sexual tension and then kiss or maybe have sex in his dorm

And in the end she ends up sleeping on his bed and he like sees her face glisten in the moon light and is like fuck i like her even though he was trying to convince himself he didnt care abt her throughout the party ? And in the morning she is like well you slytherins have great beds you rich aristocrats or something and he just laughs and kisses her and malfoy is like well who would have thought the slytherin ice cold king and the Gryffindor lioness

I dont know feel free to change it up and if you donr want to then thats ok too it would mean a great deal to me if you write it no pressure tho..( going anon because i am shy )

~ red

Heyyy so I took a few liberties and this is gonna be a two parter because I have zero chill apparently but I hope you like this, Red! 

Next part will be up in a day or two :)

Never Gonna Give (You Up) Pt.1

You smile up at him as innocently as you can. You know you shouldn’t bait him. You know you’re being immature. You know that if this night descends into one of your usual verbal sparring matches you won’t be impressing anyone, let alone Christella Beaufort. But something about him brings out the worst in you. Makes you feel slightly wrong-footed which in turn makes you want to push and needle until he reacts.

You take a moment to marvel at the decorations for this year’s Saturnalia party. Every year, Slughorn seems to set himself an unofficial challenge to out-do himself with more elaborate designs. This year, the theme is clear: gold. Just lots and lots of gold. From the tablecloths to the chairs, to the golden snowflakes that melt into nothing a couple of feet above your head, to the floor which has been charmed so that whenever you take a step you leave a shimmering footprint in your wake. It’s bright and festive and you can’t help but smirk at the thought of Tom Riddle being stuck in a room full of Gryffindor colours. 

Speaking of the devil, you spy Riddle talking to Slughorn and one of the Ministry officials that often grace Slughorn’s get-togethers. You don’t particularly want to go over and talk to him, but you do want to make yourself known to Slughorn and find out if he managed to Christella Beaufort on the list this year. She’s the Head Curse-Breaker at Gringott’s, fiercely independent, highly intelligent, and so tenacious she had singlehandedly opened the door to witches wanting to go into the profession. In short, she’s your idol.

“Come on, Potter. We’ve got pleasantries to make and hands to grease.” You grab Fleamont’s hand who you’re attending the party with (as friends - you’ve made it very clear to him that you’re not interested in finding out whether his skills on a broom translate off the pitch). With that, you stride over to the drinks table where Slughorn and Riddle are chatting, Fleamont stumbling after you, his hand still locked in yours.

“Professor,” You greet Slughorn with a warm smile, “I have to say, you’ve outdone yourself once again. I’m particularly fond of the colour scheme this year.”

“Ahh, my dear girl, how lovely of you to join us!” Slughorn cries jovially. He pats your shoulder and you watch as his eyes slide to your hand, which is still clasped around Fleamonts. And (not that you care) you notice that Riddle’s eyes are also fixed on your intertwined hands. You let go of Fleamont’s hand and it has nothing to do with the frown that’s now marring Riddle’s brow.  He casts a fond (and slightly calculating, truth be told) eye over the three of you. “My three best students! First, second, and third.” Your smile turns strained and over Slughorn’s shoulder, Riddle’s charming smile turns smug.

Slughorn introduces you to the Ministry official - a boring looking man who you promptly forget the name of but who Fleamont seems entirely taken by. Before you know it, Potter has abandoned you to talk shop with Slughorn and Mr Ministry and you’re left with Riddle.

Lovely.

Just. Lovely.

At least there’s champagne. The other professors might disapprove but in all your years of Slug Club Saturnalias, Slughorn has never once skimped on the champagne. You reach for a glass and look at Riddle with a critical eye, searching for any imperfections. Frustratingly, you can’t find any. Riddle is, as per usual, the most handsome man in the room. Pale skin, impossibly dark eyes, refined features and cheekbones as sharp as his tongue. Metaphorically speaking. Though the idea of Riddle with a forked tongue is enough to make you snort into your champagne flute. 

Riddle’s attention snaps to you and he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, impatient, annoyed with you already and making absolutely no attempt to hide it. “Did you find something amusing?” 

“Oh, no. I was just taking in your general appearance,” You say, waving a handle vaguely towards him. You smile up at him as innocently as you can. You know you shouldn’t bait him. You know you’re being immature. You know that if this night descends into one of your usual verbal sparring matches you won’t be impressing anyone, let alone Christella Beaufort. But something about him brings out the worst in you. Makes you feel slightly wrong-footed which in turn makes you want to push and needle until he reacts. It doesn’t help that the rivalry you’ve had with him since first year has only become more intense and heated as you’ve gotten older. 

His eyes narrow and he drags his gaze across your body. The moment stretches and your cheeks flame as his eyes follow the nip of your waist and the curve of your hips. Your mouth goes dry. Because this is another thing that you hate about Riddle: he never fails to make your stomach swoop. By the time he raises his eyes back to yours, his expression is one of ironic amusement. “Colour me impressed,” He murmurs, angling his body ever so slightly towards you and you have to force yourself not to take a step back. “You actually look… passable this evening.”

Prat.

You should walk away. You should find one of the fancy people that you’ve been desperate to meet since your invitation arrived a month ago. 

You don’t.

You stay and bicker with Riddle, throwing increasingly caustic taunts and jibes at each other whilst you sip champagne and pretend that you’d rather be anywhere else. You realise about twenty minutes into a debate about Minister for Magic Spencer-Moon’s policies (you rather like the pro-muggle legislature he’s attempting to pass and Riddle thinks you’re being horribly naive) that Riddle is still here. Which, well, obviously he’s still here; he’s talking to you right now in that same condescending tone he uses to tell students off for staying out past curfew. But he doesn’t have to be. Riddle is as ambitious as you are, more so, even. So why has he spent most of the evening with you and not sucking up to the many rich and talented witches and wizards in attendance tonight?

You glance around the room, suddenly aware that it hadn’t even occurred to you to leave. You’ve been so wrapped up in your conversation that everything else had just sort of… faded away. For reasons you are unwilling to examine too closely, you feel yourself grow warm. Riddle is still talking, gesturing animatedly with his champagne flute, looking horrendously handsome and like… oh Merlin, he looks like he’s enjoying himself. And that is… Well, quite frankly, that’s enough to make your brain grind to halt from shock.

You’re saved from your inner turmoil by Fleamont who appears at your side and wraps a hand around your waist. Riddle’s expression shutters. He looks at Fleamont’s arm around your waist and sneers and, for reasons beyond your grasp, you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from explaining that Fleamont is just a friend. Fleamont, oblivious as always, grins and asks you to dance and you can’t bring yourself to look at Riddle as he leads you away to the dance floor. 

Fleamont is a good dancer. You suppose this is to be expected from the heir to one of the oldest pureblood families in Britain. You imagine that he learnt to waltz before he learnt to walk. You try to focus on the dance, on the way that Fleamont spins you around the room causing your dress robes to fan out around you in an elegant circle but out of the corner of your eye you can see Riddle watching you. He’s subtle about it, you’re fairly sure that no one else would notice, but even as he makes conversation with a wizard you vaguely recognise as Ensio Kiimamaa, widely regarded as the leading Potions Master in contemporary wizarding society, his eyes flicker to where you’re dancing with Fleamont. 

You’re really not sure what to make of it.

The dance ends, and Fleamont makes a show of bowing and offering you his arm, which you take with an exasperated laugh. “Let’s go talk to Kiimamaa, I hear he’s thinking about taking on apprentices next year.” As little as you want to go near Riddle for the rest of the night, you can’t think of a good reason to object, so you nod begrudgingly and walk over, trying to convince yourself that the trepidation you feel is a result of being introduced to Kiimamma and not because of the way Riddle’s looking at you.

You make your introductions and Kiimamma begins to explain his latest discovery: a highly acidic venom harvested from the Icelandic water-dwelling vatnaormar. He produces a vial of dark liquid, uncorks it and passes it around the three of you. “It’s highly dangerous to touch, but I’ve found that a sniff of it can induce heightened concentration and focus - I hope to find a way of incorporating it in a potion that’s safe to drink.” 

Riddle holds the uncorked venom delicately between his fingers, raising it up to the light to observe the venom and then time seems to speed up and slow down all at once as you watch in horror as two things happen almost simultaneously. 

First: A little girl, who you assume to be Kiimamma’s daughter, shakes free of Slughorn’s hold on her arm and bounds over, waving her arms excitedly before losing her balance and crashing into Riddle. Second: the uncorked vial slips from Riddle’s fingers and the venom arches in an elegant curve through the air before it splatters across Riddle’s chest.

The effect is immediate. The venom tears through Riddle’s dress robes in almost no time at all and his skin begins to burn, leaving awful red and pink welts on the pale skin of his chest. The little girl starts wailing and Slughorn and Kiimamma start flapping their hands.

Riddle’s eyes flash in pain and anger and embarrassment and he completely forgets his usual charm and grace as he rounds on the girl. Before he can start yelling at her as he so clearly intends to, you step forward and place your hand on the girl’s shoulder. “It was an accident, Riddle. She didn’t mean to.” You say and then add in a low tone so that only he can hear, “She’s his daughter. Don’t fucking yell at her.” His gaze snaps to yours and there’s a moment when you think he’s going to yell anyway before his jaw clenches and he gives you a single tight nod.

“Riddle, my poor boy, you must go to the hospital wing. Not to worry, I’m sure Madam Montague will be able to sort you out in a flash.” Later, you will be able to appreciate Slughorn’s ability to sound jolly in even the direst of circumstances. Right now, you just find it rather insensitive. Slughorn turns to you and with slightly pleading eyes asks you to escort Riddle. Try as you might, you can’t think of a good reason not to, so with a vaguely helpless glance to Fleamont, you grudgingly nod, scowling at the ground in annoyance.

You loop your arm through Riddle’s and he stiffens under your touch. You repress the urge to roll your eyes and begin to make your way out of the room, ignoring Riddle’s laboured breathing and the slight trembling of his shoulders. It’s only as you get to the door that you notice a tall, dark-haired witch with a jagged scar crossing the length of her face steps out of the floo. Christella Beaufort, the one person who you had wanted to meet tonight has arrived and you’re not going to get to even say hello.

(part 1) (part 2)

[missdawnandherdusk]

The Boy Who Lived

Reader X Draco

Summary: A few months after the war, Draco gets attacked and left barely alive in St. Mungo’s. They refuse to treat him or take his money. You have a few things to say about that. 

A/n: Look at me writing! And I’ve really been meaning to write something like this for quite some time because it is so soft and fluffy with only mild angst if you squint. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy and let me know what you think! I miss talking with y’all. 

“He... he’s gonna be okay, right?”

My heart feel when I heard the news. No matter how much I loathed the youngest Malfoy, hearing that he was in St. Mungo’s because some ne’er do well thought that the boy deserved to be tortured to almost death for what his family had done. My eyebrows furrowed as I parted from the small group of Alumni Gryffindors and watched the city behind the windowpane. I could hear the soft murmurs of Harry Hermione and Ron discussing it.

“Oh, come on Ron really!?” Hermione shouted.

“Well it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it!” Ron argued back.

“Deserves it?” I snapped turning. “Yes, I’m sure he deserved to be killed. An eighteen-year-old who fought on the wrong side of the war but walked away for his family! What would you give for your family Ron!?”

The golden trio stared at me, Hermione grinning and the other two looking dumbfounded. Not that it ever took much.

“So, your defending him?” Harry asked, his voice barely restrained.

“I don’t know, Harry,” I rubbed my face. “But I won’t stand here listening to how he deserved to be tortured for being loyal to his family,” my voice dropped ice as Ron’s gaze was focused on the floor. “I’m heading out,” I huffed, grabbing a coat.

“Where?” Harry stood. “You’re going to go see him aren’t you!?”

“Yes,” my voice was calm and soft as I paused at the door. “Maybe you’d like to join? Make sure he isn’t up to something?”

Flustered, Harry didn’t respond as I stepped outside and apparated to St. Mungo’s. The receptionist at the desk was genuinely baffled when I asked for Malfoy.

“Well, Miss, no one has gone and seen him. We were barely able to ID him. Do you think you could answer a few questions for us?”

“Uh, I can do my best? I don’t know him that well to be honest,” 

She nodded and started to prattle off questions.

“Middle name?”

“Lucius,”

“Mother’s maiden name?”

“Black? I think?”

“Allergies?”

“For Merlin’s sake I don’t know,” I huffed. “I’m just here to visit him,”

“I apologize miss, but we’re not sure what to give him to medicate him. We’d hate to give him something he might react poorly too,”

“I understand,” My temper diminished. “He likes apples,” a smile touched my face. “And I think he’s allergic to feathers?”

“Feathers?”

I shrugged as she scribbled something down on her notepad. “Alright Miss, thank you for the help. He’s on the fourth floor,”

I nodded and swallowed thickly, heading up to the permanent spell damage ward. I had only been here one other time, with Neville one Christmas to see his parents. It was different being here alone and being here for Malfoy of all people.

“Malfoy,” I gave the nurse. He led me to an estranged cot near the window.

It would be a lie if I said I hadn’t gawked at the sight before me. I had seen my fair share of injured and mangled bodies with the war, but this... this seemed unnatural.

His chest was thickly wrapped, red seeping through. His arms and shoulders not faring much better. I was thankful that he was half covered by a sheet. But despite the wounds that no doubt lingered beneath the white cotton, nothing could compare to the deep gash that drove down the left side of his face, distorting his features and pulling his lips down into a permanent grimace. His cheeks were hollowed out with malnourishment and his once creamy pale skin was deathly and translucent.

Tears stung my eyes as I wrapped my arms around myself. No matter how much Malfoy irked me, he didn’t deserve this.

“Are you his girlfriend then?” The nurse asked. 

“Stars, no.” I gasped. “Just... an old friend.”

“You’re both a little young to have old friends,” the nurse muttered. “Poor kid. Barely dragged himself here before collapsing in a puddle of his own blood.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I took a step closer to the hospital cot, nearing his upper half and the chair that was my destination. I winced in taking off my coat, the buttons tangled in my hair.

“Is he gonna make it?” My voice was hoarse as the question slipped out.

“If they can figure out who to bill. The Healers don’t want to heal a Death Eater much less a Malfoy.”

“Are you bloody joking?” I demanded standing promptly. “He’s just a kid! And...” I growled menacingly. “He’s going to die if he doesn’t get the medical attention he needs, now.”

“Well, ma’am, I... I can get a Healer in here but—” the nurse stammered. “It won’t be much use without a patron,”

With one final glance to Draco I hissed:

“You’re looking at his patron. Now get him a damn healer.”

Collapsing on the chair again, I sighed, mourning my savings account. I had spent a long time waiting tables and doing odd jobs, determined to move far away after school and the war finished. But it looked like that would have to wait. Besides. He was a Malfoy. If I really wanted to, I could finagle the money back from him when this was all said and done.

A Healer rushed in and ushered me out, despite my protests. I ended up back down at the receptionist desk.

“I thought you didn’t know him that well?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as I gave her my bank info.

“I don’t,” I huffed. “But I couldn’t let him die. Not because the Healers refuse to—”

 She just smiled at me.

.................................

“You what!?” Ron and Harry demanded.

“Have you gone mental!?” Ron shouted.

“They were going to let him die!” I roared. “You didn’t see him! It was worse than what Harry did to him!”

That shut both boys up.

Hermione wrapped an arm around me and led me to the sofa. Ron huffed and left the room. Harry however sat on the adjacent armchair.

“He’s really that bad?” The question was barely heard.

“It’s awful, Harry. He’s got a gash down the left side of his face... it’s going to scar no matter what they do,” I confessed to my hands.

“Dark Magic tends to scar,” Harry murmured. “And they... they didn’t treat him because he was a Death Eater?”

I nodded and rubbed my face.

“What else was I supposed to do?” It was the question that had been running through my head. “I couldn’t let him die,”

“And rightfully so,” Hermione encouraged. 

....................................

Every day that followed, I visited Draco. Sitting at his bedside. Each day he looked a little healthier. A little more color returned under his skin. A little more weight filled out his sunken cheeks. A little less blood was seeping through his bandages. One day I came in and the left side of his face was bandaged properly. I felt a pang of fury knowing that if it had been done sooner, there was less of a possibility of scarring but whoever decided he was worth killing among the Healers, also decided he was worth scarring. The anger faded and it left unshed tears in my eyes.

“Oh, what did you get yourself into, Draco?” I murmured.

Hesitantly I reached out for his hand. It was cold under my warm fingers. Experimentally, I felt more of his skin that was still like ice no matter where my fingers met the softness of it.

The next day I brought in a quilt and draped it over the bedsheet.

“That should keep you warm,” I murmured though I knew he couldn’t hear me. “You’ll get better soon,” it was a weak promise.

Somehow it became a part of my routine. I’d spend hours with Draco as he laid there unconscious and healing. Sometimes I’d read to him or just lament about my day—anything from Ron’s ridiculousness to what I had for breakfast, or even the flowers I noticed growing on the roadside. I did it because I knew he couldn’t hear me. I did it because he was almost easier to talk to than anyone else.

“You’re not so bad when you’re not talking,” The thought of him glaring at me for daring to say such a thing, made me smile to myself.

.................................

“He’s awake,” the receptionist informed me one day.

I didn’t reply as I ran up the stairs and burst into the long room where Draco remained. A fit of nervousness washed over me. Even though I had spent the last few weeks talking to Draco, he was still the same person he was when he went under.

Yet, I couldn’t deny how elated I was to see a grey eye meet mine, the other still trapped beneath gauze.

“Stars, Draco,” I smiled in spite of myself. The tears the stung my eyes were involuntary as well. “I know you probably don’t want to see me, but you have no idea how good it is to see that you’re awake,” I whispered, then turned and left.

Agony tore through me that night, knowing I had dug myself a grave to lie in. I kept myself away from the hospital for two days before in the middle of the night I arrived, not bothering with reception. There was no point in my lying awake staring at my ceiling when I could be at the place that kept me awake in the first place.

I knew that Draco would be asleep when I pushed the door open. The bandages from around his face had been removed, a faded pink line distorting and carving a path down his face. And I had been correct. He was asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically as breaths were drawn through parted lips. My quilt was still draped over him.

“I hate to make this all about me,” I sat beside him and spoke softly. “But who am I supposed to talk to... what am I supposed to do, if there’s no you? You’re the only one who listened...” I scrubbed my face.

“How daft is that? Craving someone to talk to while they’re in a coma? I should be happy that you’re getting better, but... that just means I lose you faster in another sense,” I studied his peaceful face. “Not that you’d ever know... or care.” I sighed and looked out the window at the stars about the sleeping city.

“I’m sorry, I never meant...” I huffed, rubbing my face. “Sleep well Draco, you’ll... you’ll get better soon.” I paused. “But I’m not too sure about me,”

Grey eyes watched me as I left.

It was another day that I avoided the hospital, before succumbing again. The receptionist eyed me warily.

“Did Mr. Malfoy forget something?” She asked. 

“Uh...” I drew a blank. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh stars,” The papers in her hands began to reorder themselves. “He checked out this morning, under the pretense that he would be allowed home if he had a caretaker. He listed you,” She handed me a random document and sure enough in Draco’s elegant script was my name.

“That lying Slytherin bastard!” I shouted, then sheepishly handed her the paper back. “Anything I need to know to take care of him?”

“He has potions with him, he needs to take them every morning and evening with or without food. He needs his bandages changed daily. He shouldn’t be walking and shouldn’t stress himself out too much in fear of a relapse,” She handed me another pamphlet of rules. “And absolutely no magic. It’s going to affect his healing process,”

“The little twat,” I muttered. “Thank you,” I smiled kindly before stepping outside and apperating to the Manor, a place I had been only a handful of times.

“Draco!” I shouted, bursting through the grand front doors. “You know it’s one thing to lie the receptionist, but I paid for your sorry ass! You can at least tell me that you left the hospital! Or return my blanket!”

“M-m-miss,” A house elf stammered, appearing at my side. “Please, Master Draco is asleep,” 

“Take me to him,” I growled.

“Y-yes ma’am,”

Again, all of my anger seemed to fade at the sight of Draco. He appeared absolutely ghastly. His grey eyes were trained on me, only barely open, as if it were too much effort for him. My blanket was draped over the large bed, looking out of place amongst the expensive silks and linens. I took a sharp breath in and let out an annoyed sigh.

“Hey there, drama queen,” It was barely a whisper as I sat on the edge of his bed. “What were you thinking? Checking yourself out like that? You’re not well enough to take care of yourself,”

There was a sort of fire that returned to his eyes at my words, though he made no attempt to speak.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I rolled my eyes. “You know I’m right,” His gaze dropped, almost as if he were pouting.

“I don’t like this anymore than you do,” I muttered. “But you need to get better, and you can’t do that alone. Not this.”

His eyes closed as if he were ignoring me, but his breathing evened out and I knew he had fallen asleep. A soft smile touched my face. Without the scar that distorted his features, it was almost as if nothing had changed. Almost as if there was no war. There was peace on his face. An innocence. All disrupted by an angry flushed gash.

The house elf informed me that he has taken the vial as he was instructed to earlier, and though night had barely settled in the sky, I was wary to leave him alone in the Manor. My eyes drifted to the chaise lounge that was in the corner of the lush room. Sighing, I stood, wandering to the room next door—thankful that it was another bedroom—and located pillows and a blanket. As comfortable as I could be, I settled onto the chaise and kept an eye on Draco until my eyelids were too heavy to keep open.

I was nudged awake. By the same house elf that attended to me the night before. I panicked when I saw Draco’s bed was empty and made.

“Master Draco wishes me to inform you that he is in the den downstairs, and wondered if you’d like to join him for breakfast,”

I gaped at the house elf.

“Uh, sure?” I scrubbed my face. “I’ll be down in a moment, thank you,” 

“Yes, Miss,”

Sure enough, Draco was downstairs, in a silk emerald housecoat, scanning the Daily Prophet like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Is there anything that you own that isn’t green or black?” I drawled softly, taking a seat in the adjacent armchair.

“Good morning,” His voice was as tires on grovel or perhaps the groaning of a whomping willow.

“So, he does talk,” I offered a small smile.

He took a careful sip of what I assumed was tea. The house elf set out another mug for me, pouring the hot water over the small bag of dried leaves.

“You said you preferred when I didn’t,” His voice was less strained after the tea.

“Suppose I did,” I hummed, fixing the rest of my tea to my liking. “Doesn’t mean it’s not good to hear your voice though,”

His lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes trained forward, through the window panes overlooking how autumn had conquered the rest of the Manor.

“So, how are we going to do this?” He finally said. “You’re too stubborn to leave me on my own,”

I wanted to argue, but he was right. I was too stubborn.

“I... I can come in the mornings and evenings. I’ll change your wrappings and make sure you take your potions... do you need me here more than that?”

He shook a seldom ‘no.’

“I... should be off then,” I stood. “Thank you for the tea. I’ll be over around seven tonight?”

He didn’t comment as I made my way out. I hated myself but I counted down the hours until seven arrived. At work, at home, at lunch, all of my thoughts meandered back to how long it would be until I could see Draco again.

____________________________

Draco hated being reliant on anyone. He hated that he was weak. He hated that he couldn’t make it up the stairs without help. He hated the scar that pierced the left side of his face. He hated the face in the mirror regardless. He hated that you kept coming back. He hated that he wanted you to keep coming back. He hated that he had heard every word that you spoke to him while he was healing. He hated that you had said them. He hated that even when he was asleep, he could still hear your voice.

He hated that when he heard your voice pipe up in the house again promptly at seven, his heart fluttered.

He hated that you helped him up the stairs and into his room. He hated that you lead him to his lavish bathroom and sat him on the counter and began to undo his wrappings with such concentration that you seemed to tune his stammering heart out.

“Stars, Draco,” You murmured after unwrapping his left arm bandage.

He winced involuntarily. To be fair it looked a lot better than when they had first gouged the Dark Mark off his skin. And perhaps some part of him was grateful. All that was left was a skin graft and a scar in the shape of the Dark Mark, raised and angry like the line on his face.

“Dark magic always leaves a scar,” The words tumbled from your lips as your warm fingers brushed over the raised skin. He hated how he shuddered at the touch.

With all of his bandages gone—despite that his bottom half was still clothed—Draco felt bare, if not completely nude before you. He hated that too. Your eyes trialed over his chest and the marred skin that now belonged to him. Your gaze dragged up his shoulders, his neck, up the slice on his cheek, until your warm eyes settled on his.

There wasn’t pity in your eyes. Nor sadness. But rather understanding, and comfort. He hated that he noticed.

Wordlessly, you turned and began to draw a bath, filling it with what looked like a chance bath salt to you, but was the one his mother had once used for him, when he was young, and she was home. The scent quickly began to overpower the smell of sweat and soiled gauze and the hospital smell that lingered on his skin.

“I... Call if you need me,” You stammered and rushed out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. Maybe he hated that you left.

The warm bath water and the familiar scent calmed him greatly. It soothed the ache in his muscles and bones. As he draped the water over his skin, washing away the past few weeks. He so desperately wanted to wash you away too, but you lingered on him like the scars he couldn’t ever heal.

An excruciating pain shocked his system as he reached up to wash his hair.

“No, no, no, no,” He groaned, trying again and reaping the same results. “Oh, this is so not fair!”

“Draco?” There was a soft knock on the door. “Everything alright?”

He glared at the door; the words trapped behind pursed lips. He loathed this.

“I need help,” He growled.

Your head peered in, a gentle look on your face. You weren’t laughing at him or teasing him. You looked genuinely concerned.

“What do you need?”

“I... I can’t wash my hair,” He muttered.

“Do... do you want me...?” The question was timid. He didn’t remember the last time he had seen you timid.

He nodded.

With a few well-placed bubbles and some shifting, you entered the bathroom and rounded the tub. He directed you to the correct soaps and lathers. Before you began, your eyes darted around the room, trying to locate something. You rose and took one of the empty ornate cups on his sink. It had once held flowers or something, but it had been emptied for months. Flowers didn’t grow in the presence of Dark Magic. You rinsed it in the sink and took your position behind him again. He didn’t have the energy to question you.

Draco never thought how calming having someone else wash his hair would be. The glass you had taken from the sink was filled carefully with bath water and cascaded over his head and shoulders as your free hand kept the water from his face. Your fingers massaged his favorite lather into his hair, and he had to be careful not to let out an involuntary groan. You hummed softly as you worked, to fill the silence. Again, water flowed down his head, clearing the lather from his hair and into the water around him. Draco closed his eyes and relaxed as you reached for the oils, not afraid in your company. This time your fingers carded the oil through his hair.

He hated that he enjoyed it so much. He hated that it was over too soon. He hated that you simply got up and left when you were finished without a word and left him, half asleep, feeling incomplete without your soft lullaby or your hands in his hair.

He hated that you combed his hair for him. He hated that you were silent as you reapplied his bandages. Your eyes focused on the task at hand and not his racing heart.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” He loathed that the most.

In the morning, you undid his bindings and applied the healing balm that the doctor had sent him home with before wrapping him up again. You gently brushed his hair and ran gel through it, coiffing it like he used to. Somehow it looked different when you did it.

You rarely spoke a word as the days passed. Your morning and nightly routine with him becoming a ritual that he craved. To feel safe with you near. To relax even for just a moment for nightmares and terrors plagued his sleep. To feel more like himself, even if things would never be the same. You treated him the same. Despite the foul scars that plagued his skin.

He hated that you kept leaving.

“You’re dressed,” A smile rose on your face as you walked in one crisp winter morning. “I thought I’d never see you rid the house coat,” It was the most you had said to him since he had been unconscious.

“I thought I’d try,” Draco ran his fingers over the soft cotton of the dress shirt. “You wouldn’t believe the trouble I had with the buttons,”

A soft chuckle left your lips as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Is this where it ends then?”

The words shattered him more than torture ever could. He hated the thought. He hated the somber look on your face.

“Y/n, I...” Draco loathed fumbled his words.

“No, I guess this was... this was always going to end.” Your eyes didn’t meet his. “I should have just paid and left.” There was regret in your voice. Regret that he misread.

“So, you’re here for the money then?” His voice raised against his better judgement. “Is that why you kept coming back?” He couldn’t deny how deeply that wound pierced.

“What? No! It was never about the money!” Your voice raised as well. “If it was about the money don’t you think the first thing I would have done was gone to Paris to demand it from your parents!?”

“Then what was it about!? Some vendetta!? Something to goad over me!? As if you don’t have enough already!” He was gripping onto the stair railing tightly, his body threatening to collapse any moment.

“Merlin’s sake, I couldn’t let you die!” The tears he never say you shed, finally fell in front of him. “They were going to let you die!” Your head shook in denial as you pressed your arms around yourself, as it if would stop the tremors that shook your frame.

“You should have let them kill me!” He roared and you gawked at him—finally a reaction response to how he appeared. “It would make your life so much easier!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!?” You paced up the first few steps of the staircase, closer to him.

_________________________

I watched the light fade from his eyes.

“Draco!?” My anger turned to fear as his arm gave out and he fell to the step he was on. My close proximity allowed me to prevent him from tumbling down the stairs further.

“Stars, Draco,” I wept pulling him into my arms. He was out cold. “Don’t, don’t die on me, please,” I couldn’t stop my tears now.

I gathered him into my arms and with great difficulty, trudged upstairs, collapsing beside him on his bed. Righting myself, I gently brushed the hair away from his eyes.

“I don’t want this to end,” I confessed. “I don’t want to leave you, Draco,” I wiped away my tears. “Merlin, you have no idea how much I love you. That’s why I kept coming back,” I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

I must have fallen asleep beside him because I was woken by a whimper and cry. A desperate plea for someone to stop. A guttural cry of mercy.

“Draco!?” I was wide awake and alert. “Draco! Wake up!” I shook his shoulder as gently as possible.

Petrified grey eyes met mine, filled with tears and terror. Not a beat passed before he pulled me close and clung to me, sobbing into my shoulder. After the moment of initial shock, I wrapped my arms around him, cradling him against me. His cries tore deep wounds in my soul. The desperation and agony that they possessed.

“Don’t. Don’t leave me,” He hiccupped through tears. “Please, I don’t want this to end,”

I ran my fingers softly through his hair, leaving soft promises of new beginnings in their wake. It was enough to lull us both back to sleep.

When sunlight crept through the windows, my eyes fluttered open, to see grey ones studying me. 

“Hello,” His voice was soft, his arm draped around me.

“Good morning,” A soft smile touched my lips as I sat up. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Draco sat up—without wincing. “Did you mean it? What you said?”

“Mostly likely yes, but which part are you referring to?” I teased softly, working on the buttons of his shirt to free him of the tight article of clothing.

“You’re gonna stay?”

“Well, not here probably, but as in I’m going to keep coming back, yes,” My fingers traced old and new scars.

“And this isn’t the end?”

“Not particularly,” I watched him shudder as I ran my fingers over his collarbone—something I had noticed months before and used against him now.

“And you love me,”

My fingers left his skin promptly as my eyes flashed to his. 

“Yes,”

.

Part Two

.

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[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Friday Night Stabby best quotes part 10 (05/02/21)

...

Tango: Skeld[.net] doesn’t have the mute feature. Brody: Yeah, I heard you talking about your bits and that was just awkward for everybody.

...

*Endless and Joker vote for Impulse, which is enough to throw him off* Impulse: OH MY GOD. It is DEFINITELY Joker and Endless! What the- *plays a censor sound effect*

...

Brody: Saw Etho vent after he killed Endless. Tango: Etho, do you have any defence for this? Etho: I don’t like how he’s pushing on me like this. Brody: Well, it’s because I just watched you do it. *pause* Etho: …I had issues getting into the vent…

...

Impulse: I’m pretty sure it was Endless. It was definitely 100% Endless, I saw him venting. Tango, laughing: Look at Impulse! Impulse: I haven’t seen him since we left the table when the match started but I feel it in my bones. Etho: Ohh there’s some salt flying! Impulse: *votes for Endless* I already voted, it’s over. Brody: Impulse, I’ve had this salt before and in solidarity, just for you, I will vote for Endless. Impulse: That’s good. Let’s just make it even. Tango: Let’s just take baggage into all these streams, that’s great. *votes are tied between Endless and skipping* Impulse: Aww, all you skippers ruining it. Brody: That’s what happens when you actually vote, Impulse.

...

Mrs Tango: *votes for Tango* Tango: What the heck, Mrs Tango?! Mrs Tango: Suspect. Tango: Oh. Go crash.

...

Endless, the imposter: Oh, is it Impulse? :D Impulse, the other imposter: I thought we squashed this, Endless!

...

Skizz: Boy, Joker, I tell you what: you are just finding corpses tonight, buddy. Joker: Yep. I am. It’s amazing. Skizz: Uh huh. It’s easy when you’re the one killing them! C’mon, c’mon: sell me. Sell me that it’s not you, you big green monster. Joker: It’s… not me. Skizz: Okay, I’m sold.

...

Joker: *calls emergency meeting* Skizz: Don’t look too much into that! I’m done with my tasks and I need a buddy. That’s why I’m hanging out with you. Joker: Uh huh. Skizz: Well it is! Joker: Uh huh. Skizz: IT IS! I could’ve killed you like a billion times. You’re not that fast! Joker: UH HUH. *votes* Skizz: DON’T YOU DARE!

...

*Impulse and Endless win as imposters* Tango: Oh the irony. The irony! Endless, in a funny voice: Oh my, what has happened here? Oh dear.

...

Evil: I just wanted to tell you guys I love you. You guys are awesome. Etho: Awww. Joker: No YOU’re awesome, Evil. Congratulations on your partnership. Tango: Hey everybody! Evil made partner and Mrs Tango made affiliate! What an amazing week! Endless: And I streamed three times! Yay! Tango: Hey everybody! Endless… too. Impulse, laughing: Jeez… ouch… Brody: Good work, Endless.

...

Brody: Mister Joker, are you voting for Etho? Joker: Yes, because I very strongly believe that it was Etho. Etho: You are incorrect, my sir. And I would appreciate if you would stop voting me. Brody: Oh, well, then! Joker: Well, when you put it THAT way…

...

Endless: Not gonna lie, there’s a good chance I’m the imposter. I haven’t been paying attention. Etho: Don’t say that!!

...

Brody: I didn’t vote for you, Endless. Endless: Thank you, Brodyman :) Tango: I did. Endless: You can go to hell. (one of my favourite FNS quotes ever)

...

Joker: You using a Commodore 64 to play this? I don’t think that’s how this works. Tango: Hey, are you knocking the Commodore 64, my friend? Do we need to have words? Don’t make me take you outside, my friend. Joker: I can’t go outside, man. There’s a pandemic going on. What are you thinking, Tango? Etho: You just can’t associate with humans. You can still associate with bears and stuff. Joker: Oh! Oh, okay.

...

Impulse: Skizz has been dead first, like, 99% of the night. Tango: Skizz, could you just talk to me so I can hear you before you’re dead again? That’d be cool. Skizz: Tango, I- You know what- Tango: I miss hearing your voice, man. It’s like- It’s good, and it’s fun, and then you’re dead, and I don’t get to hear you for ten minutes. Skizz: Aww, I love all of you- Etho: Sorry, Skizz! Skizz: -I love you all. Etho, you’re dead to me.

....

Evil: *calls emergency meeting* Skizz, immediately: Don’t you dare! NOPE NOPE NOPE! Endless: Skizz vented! Skizz: ZIP IT ZIP IT ZIP IT ZIP IT ZIP IT ZIP IT! Endless: I saw Skizz vent. Skizz vented. Skizz: Nope! Nope! Nope! Endless: Skizz went into a- Skizz: Let me say words with my face!

...

Joker: I’m just gonna vote Etho out straight away. Etho: I dare you, Joker. I DARE you.

...

*everyone is voting for Etho on almost no info* Etho: Oh come on! What is this? Tango: I got your back, Etho. *votes for Brody* *votes are revealed, Etho is out* Tango: Nevermind, not good enough. Etho: Joker, I hate you. JOKER, I HATE YOU! Joker: I told you I was gonna do it, Etho!

...

*that same round, Joker is ejected and revealed as imposter*

Skizz: What is going ON with Etho?! Endless: Did Joker just- Did Joker just… sink his partner?! Etho: He did. He pulled the trigger. Like, I wouldn’t have minded but that was a key moment, Joker. You’ve got balls. Joker: *bursts out laughing*

...

*Etho dies first after 6+ rounds as imposter in a row* Skizz: We have to all stick it to Etho! First of all, I literally saw nobody. Can we just send a message and everybody skip? Joker: I think that’s what we were gonna do anyway. Skizz: Etho, I love you buddy! I love you, but I want you to see all these people who don’t care that you’re DEAD! Etho, dead: Ah there’s some salt flowing through the tears, here. Tango: Hey shut up, you’re dead, killer! Skizz: No talking, corpse! Etho: Oh, I’ve never been dead. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Endless: I voted for Impulse. Impulse: Of course you did.

...

Impulse: It is actually ridiculously stupid that [Etho’s] gotten that many imposter rounds tonight. Endless: Yeah, what hacking are you doing, Etho? What’s the deal? Etho: I feel like this happens every time we play: someone gets imposter a lot. Impulse: Exactly, yeah. Someone gets stuck on imposter every time. So I’m saying the code’s not hitting a clean randomiser. Etho, quietly: Whew, they bought it. They don’t suspect my hacks.

...

Impulse, being voted out: You guys suck so bad. You guys suck SO bad. YOU GUYS SUCK SO BAD right now. Do you understand how much you SUCK? You voted off Etho as a JOKE; I FINALLY get imposter, and I almost got it!

...

Etho: I’d like to take this opportunity to defend Tango again. He seems like a stand-up guy. Tango: That’s cool, cuz I voted for you.

...

Etho: I can’t defend Skizzle like I can defend Tango. My queen. Tango: ETHO. Queen?! We have to talk, my friend. *Etho is voted out, Tango voted for Etho* Tango: There we go, that’s good. Etho: Tango…! My queen, I accept your judgement!

...

(for context, Etho is dead and Evil/Endless are the imposters) Impulse: *calls a meeting* Evil: Don’t you do it! Endless: I just saw Evil kill the guy! Tango! Evil: No, you did it! Endless: Wait, who reported it?! What did you see, Impulse? Impulse: Oh, I just pressed the button. I had a feeling that something was gonna happen. Endless: OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! Impulse: What happened? You guys sound like you saw something. Endless: Evil killed Tango but you- oh… Impulse: Who killed Tango? Evil: It wasn’t me. Endless, miserably: I watched Evil kill Tango but it doesn’t really matter anymore… Impulse: Well, that’s kind of a defeatist attitude. Endless: I thought Impulse reported but he actually called a meeting, so… This game is DUMB. It’s ETHO.

[adaodinson]

Wrong place, wrong time

This is something I´ve been wanting to write for a while and I finally got the time to do so, wohooo. It´s going to have several parts and is based on the Falcon and the Winter Soldier. English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistake.

Summary: You needed to get in, seal the deal and get out. That would have been easy if a certain group of three men hadn´t been making business with Selby at the same time as you were.

Relationships: platonic in this chapter (different endings, you’ll choose) Bucky x reader, Sam x reader, Zemo x reader.

Warnings: Swearing and nothing else so far.

Part 1

Part 2

Again, your stupid brother had managed to get himself into trouble, oh but this time you had to be the one to go and save him. You couldn’t have just stayed at your small, cozy apartment and enjoy a good movie, you had to grab a plane, go to Madripoor, head to a bar and find a way to make business (thing you had no idea how to do) with a woman named Selby because your mess of a brother couldn’t stay still.

He had gotten himself in trouble multiple times before, but this time it had been in Madripoor, of all places. You just needed to give Selby the money, hear her make the phone call confirming your brother would be left alone, and then you could go, take your plane and head back home. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

You walked through the crowd, dancing a bit to the music. You guided your feet towards the bar and took a seat. Turning your head and taking in the place, you noticed three men walking in. They were all ridiculously handsome, like seriously, and they seemed to be there together.

They sat across the bar from you, and you swore you felt their gazes in you for a few seconds, but you weren’t there to flirt, specially with the people that came to the bar willingly. You did laugh on your insides at the reaction of one of them when the bartender put a part of a snake in his drink. It was weird though, he ordered that because he likes it, right? You didn’t let your mind wander in that for too long, you needed to focus on your task, not on the deep blue eyed brunette, or the beautiful chocolate skinned with amazing features, or the handsome brown eyed with light colored hair. Jesus, they were freaking gorgeous.

-You! Selby will see you- A tall, scary man called you out, and as you walked you heard a fight in the bar, but you didn’t look back. The place was a mess, hallway after hallway covered in packs of money, drugs and things you weren´t excited to know about.

-I had never seen you before, what do you want?- An… extravagant woman (to say the least) asked fiercely.

-My brother, he is …-

-I know who he is, your last name sold you out-.

-Well, if you know who he is, you probably know why I’m here-. You didn’t know where that came from, but it came out way more threatening that you were planning, and that was great.

-Give me the money and I’ll deliver what they ask for- you needed to give specific stuff to the people that had your brother in order to get him released, and Selby knew that.

-Here’s the money- you said, showing the inside of the bag you were carrying- but make the call first-.

-Hah, you are not as incompetent as you seem-.

While Selby was on the phone, you heard steps approaching the room. It was the three men you had seen before. But why where they here now?

-Perfect- Selby said as she hang up. It was done, you just needed to get the message from your brother confirming he was out, but that would take a few hours.

You handed the money to one of the bodyguards, since Selby was talking to the three man, and just as you were about to leave, the worst happened. In the blink of an eye a failed phone call sold the guys out and before you could even process anything, Selby was dead, shot.

Your business was made, but you knew that just by being there when it happened, you would be hunted down. FUCKING HELL. The men raced towards the door, but the one in the large, fuzzy coat turned to you first.

-Listen, you need to come with us, you’ll get killed if you stay. There’s a price on your head just for being here- he spoke with what seemed to be a Sokovian accent (your brother had many contacts, you knew Sokovian people), but you were too freaked out to notice the effect his voice had on your heartbeat.

Without saying another word, he grabbed your arm and when you didn’t pull back he walked on. You exited the place and ran through the streets. Just when you thought you were safe, a rain of bullets fell on you and before you knew it, the same guy had embraced you and led you to a corner. You knew the other two man had no guns, so when the bullets stoped your mouth acted before you could think.

-Who stopped them?!-

-I don’t know- he answered.

You two left your corner and headed towards the group. A blonde woman was pointing a gun at the guy that had saved your life twice, so you reacted by putting yourself in front of him. That took him by surprise, him and the other three had looks that screamed “what the hell are you doing”. Before they could say anything, you talked.

-Listen, I have no idea who any of you are, but this man here saved my life twice in the past 20 minutes, so I don’t appreciate someone shooting at him without knowing why- You didn´t see it, but when you finished talking, Zemo had the biggest smile he had produced since he had been in prison.

-I´m Bucky, and, doll, this guy is Zemo, a criminal, a killer that tried to end the Avengers and succeeded in separating them- The blue eyed responded with a fierce look directed to who you now knew was called Zemo.

-Why is he not in jail then?- you asked with a tone that came out way too sarcastic than what you would have wanted. Zemo tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a snort at your words.

-Hey, we don´t really have time to convince you that he is a criminal- The other answered. He was right, it was clear they had many problems aside from the ones they had just gained, but you weren´t stupid enough to think you would beat bounty-hunters on your own. What you knew was that Zemo had helped you, and in your current situation, you couldn’t give yourself the luxury of denying help, even if it´s from a supposed criminal. You didn´t want to get in their way, and you didn´t want to get involved in whatever they were doing, but you needed their help. Those bounty-hunters were after you too now, and even though you knew how to defend yourself in the streets outside your apartment, you knew you needed help to escape Madripoor.

-Sam is right, you guys are clearly in a lot of trouble- The blonde woman said.

-We need your help, Sharon. Someone is recreating the serum and we need to stop them- Bucky said. The serum? What? You were confused as hell, and nobody seemed to want to explain to you what was happening.

-Ugh, I have a place in High Town, you´ll be safe there. And you- she said pointing at you- I guess it´s your time to leave-.

-WHAT? And where the hell I´m I gonna go?- You asked. You were panicking, if they didn´t agree to help you, you were gonna die. You noticed Zemo stiffened and he clearly wanted to say something, but he was waiting for the right time to do so.

-To your home, doll. Or wherever you wanna go- If you had been in any other situation, the nickname Bucky gave you would have turned you into a freaking tomato, but you were literally arguing for your life.

-If I try to get out of Madripoor on my own I won´t survive the next two hours. The same bounty-hunters that are after you, are after me now because I was with you when Selby died. I´m not stupid enough to think I can outrun them. Please, let me go with you. I promise I won´t be a problem, I just need help getting out of here and you’ll never hear from me again-.

-I guess you´re right. What´s your name?- Sam asked softly, almost empathetically.

-I´m Y/N-. You answered.

-Pretty name, it fits you- Oh so now Zemo talks. You smiled at him, criminal or not the guy was quite charming. Sam ignored him though, but Bucky gave him a look that would have made anybody else run in terror.

-Okay Y/N, we have some things to do first, but we´ll help you get out of Madripoor- Sam said as him and Bucky smiled at you. Again, in any other situation you would have melted right there.

-Thank you! I´ll do my best to be useful, even if that means staying out of your way-

Sharon sighed but she had a small smile in her lips. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, but you definitely made the right choice by convincing them to help you.

The way towards Sharon´s apartment was… strange. You had tons of questions, but you really didn´t want to get yourself more involved, so instead you tried making conversation, and Sharon seemed interested in your life. The three men were sitting in the back and you and Sharon were together at the front. She was driving.

-So, what led you to a place like Madripoor, and more specifically, to Selby?- She seemed to have no intention on asking the guys more about their problems, and you didn´t hate talking to someone that wasn´t another boring neighbor. She seemed genuinely interested.

-Well, my brother is the type to get himself into trouble. He managed to owe a guy so much that he threatened him, so I had to buy some things from Selby to give to the guy what my brother owed because if he shows his face in Madripoor he´d get killed at the first step inside- In your voice the pain and concern was evident. All the hearts that were inside that car ached a little bit, not just at your suffering (since you were, in the end a stranger), but also at their own.

-I managed to finish the deal with Selby before you guys arrived, now I just need to get a message from him to confirm everything is fine. But, of course, I had to be at the wrong place in the wrong time and I now got myself into more trouble than my brother. I´m sorry, I really am. It´s pretty clear you guys have a lot in your hands now, so I really appreciate your help, all of your help- You finished, smiling at Zemo. He seemed to want to smile at you, but your words took him by surprise again and he only nodded.

-Well, it´s the least we can do, you did find yourself at the worst place and time. And I hope you get that message from your brother soon- Sam said.

-Thank you, Sam-.

The rest of the drive was silent, except for the occasional complaints from Bucky at how close Zemo was to him. You couldn´t help but giggle and little did you know, whenever that sound exited you, the three men went silent just to be able to hear.

Sharon´s place was HUGE, and quite frankly, a little too much for you, but it was nice. You got a fresh change of clothes from Sharon (you were curvier than her, but she seemed to have something perfect for you) and without interfering, you heard the conversations going on between Sam, Sharon and Bucky. They clearly had many issues with Zemo, and he was completely aware of it so he too remained silent.

Bucky seemed to take some pity in your soul and explained the situation a little bit. A version of the serum that had been used to create Captain America had been recreated and they needed to find it and destroy it while stopping the group called the Flag Smashers that was using it to go back to the way things were during the Blip. After the explanation you had mixed feelings. You didn´t vanish during the Blip, and with all honesty, even before it you came from a pretty privileged place, so during it nor after it you never had a problem, but you were aware of how things had gone for the people that came back, and you couldn´t help but agree with Sam when he said he sympathized with the fight, just not with the way they were fighting it. They also explained more about Zemo, but again, you agreed with his fight, just not in how he fought it. You completely agreed with his idea that no human should have more power than others, especially in the already capitalist world we live in. People with a lot of money were a problem (not for who they were, but for what they have that others don´t) and adding superpowers to money could never end in something good.

They respected your opinions, and even agreed on most. But before you could continue in your conversation and Zemo on his listening, Sharon announced she would help find information on the name they had earned from Selby, so you needed to just blend in her party while she took care of that. You were more than happy, you loved parties.

The peaceful and wide space you once knew as Sharon´s first floor was now covered in all types of people dancing to all types of music. You had always enjoyed dancing and singing, but by the first minutes you had it clear that Sam and Bucky didn´t particularly love parties, and that Zemo had missed the feeling while in prison.

After unsuccessfully trying to convince Bucky and Sam to go to the dance floor with you, you headed towards the Baron and smiled widely at him.

-How long has it been since your last party?- you asked leaning closer to him because of the loud music.

-Too long for my liking- He answered, and before you had any time to react, he grabbed your hand and had you spinning around at the beat in a mixture of laughter from the both of you. All the time you spent in the party was also spent holding Zemo´s hand and dancing ridiculously to the rhythm. Both yours and Zemo´s stomachs were aching from laughter, and to all honesty, you never expected to have this much fun while being basically a fugitive.

If you hadn´t been so immersed in your fun, you would have noticed the hateful gazes both Sam and Bucky were directing towards the Baron. But they had said no to dancing with you, so this was their fault.

You had no idea how much time had passed, it could have been two minutes or ten hours, but you were having the time of your life when Sharon called you back with the information she had found. You all called it a night and went upstairs. She stayed down because she was, in the end, hosting the party, but the three guys and you were ready to try to sleep.

Before each one headed to your respective rooms, you checked your phone and discovered two things. As you read the first one your heart felt a calm you hadn´t experienced in a long time, but when the second one came in… Bucky had to catch you to keep you from falling.

Your brother was safe and sound, everything had worked out, but he had used his connections to now if you were alright and found something. You only needed to get away from Madripoor to escape the bounty-hunters, but after being put on the list of bounties, the Flag Smashers had you on the spot because they were now convinced you had teamed up with Sam and Bucky, so now, according to them, you were their enemy as much as Sam and Bucky were, so even if you managed to leave Madripoor, you knew you couldn´t just go back home, not without the guys at least.

[ka-writes]

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Notes: READ WARNINGS!!

Please I really want you to be safe.. anyways, this is mainly a set up for the next chapter.. it has a shit ton of angst prepare yourself.

Also am very sorry it is late!! ‘‘Twas very hard for me to start writing it, btw I started another AU please go check it out, thank you <3

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Warning: Torture I go into detail, gore, cussing manipulation, characters lose sense of reality.

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In case you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 6:

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Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Ao3 link for this work:

And my other AU:

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Change 7: This is a dream… right?

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He was back where he started this whole thing.

In a cage.

One cage over from the door and now in the middle of the room. It felt empty and bare, yet full of an uncomfortable sense of dread and fear, though he would never admit that aloud.

This time there was only one other cage in sight. The room had changed as well. It was no longer covered in grime, or smelled of blood. Instead it was a sickly white and smelled of rubbing alcohol. Which caused his nose to burn with the overwhelming scent of the cleaning supplies, making the entirety of the room feel more and more like one of those horror stories in hospitals, the only difference being that this one was real.

The thing that replaced the other cages and humans was an operating table with vials and tools that Tommy couldn’t identify.

There were no lights currently, except for the same small door window, which was the only thing that really stayed the same.

It was cold, it felt empty. There was no description fit for the amount of dread Tommy felt. It was built up after laying in the dark for so long. It burned his gut and made his head swirl with thoughts of what would happen next.

He wouldn’t ever admit he was scared, but the situation kinda explained itself.

Without warning the door swung open. No squeaks like last time, just a smooth motion allowing the room to be basked in yellow light from the hall.

Then the lights turned on, immediately causing Tommy to shut his eyes. His head started throbbing and every fiber in his body screamed at him to run. The lights turned into blurry blinding blobs that lit everything in a white fire, making it apparent that the room was indeed scrubbed of any stains or blood. Once his eyes finally adjusted, his migraine caught up to him, making the entire thing unbearable.

“Hello there!” An alien stepped in the room. Their features were outlined in white and their skin wasn’t even recognized, simply because it looked like a shadow. They had claw-like hands and wore glasses over their white to red eyes. They had a black doctor’s coat and wore black pants with white knee high boots. They had a devilish tail along with devil horns and a floating white halo. Their fangs poked out from a blinding white mouth, which was curved into a practiced smile.

“My name is BadBoyHalo, but you will refer to me as Dr. Halo.” They finished with a sickly sweet tone and a side smile, “My pronouns are he/him, and I will be taking care of what happens while you’re here.. not that you will ever leave of course.”

His mind was racing. Everything told him this was real, but he couldn’t help but pray that it was all a sick dream.

“Now we will start off easy and move onto the harder stuff later! Please refrain from trying to run, we have a shock function attached to your translators.” This caught him off guard. Why was he using plural tenses?

He looked towards the other cage, that’s when he noticed the strange bee alien also wearing a petrified expression. His eyes didn’t wander to the other cage, only watching Dr. Halo.

“Now who do we start with?” The doctor asked, even though he clearly already knew. A twisted smile shone on his face letting the light catch the awfully amused glint in his eyes, “Let’s start with the droneling!”

——————

There was no explanation for where the two went.

They simply vanished. No traces to follow or reasons to run.

The only logical explanation was Dream catching them. Which meant Techno would have to ask around for where the ship was harboring. The only problem being, he was awful at talking to people.

“So what do you wanna know?” A tall Wollylock person asked, she was the only known person to know anything about Dream, being his mother and all.

“Er- information on the Dream Team Ship.” Techno stated rather awkwardly.

“Why?” The captain asked, impatience clearly visible with her expression.

“They took two starlings from my crew.” At that the captain practically fumed with furry.

“I will help. After all, that boy needs to learn some manners.” The captain stated, her determination was infectious. “What is your craft’s name?”

“The SBI Craft, piloted by captain Philza.” He said robotically.

“Course it has to be Phil. That man has what, four kids he claimed to his crew..”

“Technically, I am not a kid, neither is Wil- Er our scientist, so really he’s only harboring three kids, now one since two were taken..” Techno decided that was the best explanation he could come up with, though there was really no point.

The captain chuckled and brushed off the other’s attempts at defending the crew. “Just send me the ship’s cords and your captain’s contact and I will be in touch.” With that the captain slid a communicator over the table and walked out of the sketchy bar.

Techno made his way back to the ship and delivered his captain the news. He tried to ignore the gut feeling that everything was wrong…

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(The next section has graphics depictions of torture and gore, please skip this section if it could or will trigger you in any way, there is a summary at the end. Thank you <3)

The world moved unbearably slow. The cage opened ever so smoothly, making him want to throw up. It was the sign that everything was going to go to hell.

That’s what this has to be right? A hellish nightmare that wasn’t real..

No that wasn’t right..

Did it matter?

A hand yanked his wrist out of the cage and into the blinding white room, that felt like fire surrounding him as he stepped to the operating table.

Needles and scalpels were set neatly on a silver tray. The restraints were heavy and felt like they burned his wrists and ankles. He was pushed onto the table as the ‘doctor’ slapped on gloves. More restraints were clipped over his waist and thighs.

Then something pinched his leg. He felt the blood rushing it’s way down to the cut, as a scalpel carved out a rectangle. He could hear scissors cutting something, and distant screams… were they from him?

He didn’t know at this point. More agonizing cuts on his legs along with a couple of needle pin marks.. a couple snaps of an illusion disk and a bit of writing, on both his skin and paper..

He couldn’t really feel anything after the first one, only simply knowing that his body was reacting to the pain yet his brain hadn’t quite caught up with reality.

It was like he wasn’t exactly controlling his body, just simply existing in the dream-like state. Time didn’t exist there, neither did recognition of the pain. Emotions ran wild. Turning all of his thoughts sour as he attempted to remember what happened.

It wasn’t until the doctor un-clipped him and put him back into the cage that he noticed the other.

That’s who did this to him. That’s the person that pushed him through pain.

The human wore a terrified expression as the doctor took him out for his turn.

He couldn’t help but smile at the other’s pain. The other deserved it..

Right?

(If you skipped this, Tubbo got tortured and blamed Tommy for the situation.)

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“IT’S BEEN A FUCKING MONTH! And you still haven’t found your son’s damn ship?!” The man on the other line was furious, and rightfully so.

Puffy undoubtedly understood the anger the man had. I mean she had been in the situation before when her youngest was kidnapped by another crew of pirates. The only difference in this situation was she was fighting against her son, her duckling… when did her duckling turn sour?

“You’re right about that, Phil. I can assure you Niki is doing everything in her power to track them down, along with Jack.” Jack joined the team after Puffy met Niki.

She must admit that having someone working in the ISF had its perks. Though no one could fully trust him. For good reason of course.

“Ponk is ‘talking’ to Sam, he sure as hell ain’t cracking yet.” She finished bitterly, “Like I said Quakity is waiting for his monthly letter from his fiancé, which would hopefully give us a clue at where to look.”

“I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it’s been a month.. Wilbur said the humans barely last a full week if they aren’t treated..” The worry was lining his face and causing the bags under his eyes to look more like nasty black eyes. His face was sullen making it apparent the man hadn’t been eating properly. His wings ruffled at every noise and he seemed to be running purely on coffee. Puffy wanted nothing more than to return the man’s unofficial sons back to him.

——————

Everything was great!

The plan worked perfectly, and Sam hadn’t cracked yet.

Meaning he could easily start on the next faze. The only issue would be he’d have to gain both of the starling’s trust.

Even if the present was a bitter reality lined with things that would annoy him, the end result would be worth it.

Having a human and a nuke expert by his side would allow him to have everything he ever wanted.

Power.

Not just power, but all the things that came with it. He wouldn’t be questioned again, and everything and anything he said would be the final word.

It would be hell for those who crossed him, and even worse for those who abandoned him.

Wilbur, Sam, Ant, Quackity, Foolish, and even mother dearest, Puffy. They would all pay for their disloyalty. Once this is all over, they would never cross him again.

I mean he did give up everything to gain this life.

There was nothing to lose and everything to win, and he’d be damned if he didn’t win.

I mean he sold his soul for this!

It was all worth it.. right?

Of course it is. Stop doubting me child.

——————

28 days of torture, and now they were sitting with their captors playing house.

It was wrong. So utterly wrong.

“Eat your food Tommy.” The captain commanded.

Tommy complied not wanting to go back in the cage. Every day he woke up there, more things were shoved into him and more pain was given.

“You too Tubbo.” The command was given and the other complied, the same fear visibly shown.

“Reports.” Dream stated sternly, the rest of the crew compiled without hesitation.

It was a bunch of regular reports of how no one knew where they were, what supplies needed to be restocked, the current condition of the ship, and any developments with the news. A bunch of boring bullshit. He bit back any sarcastic remarks that threatened to spill, but refrained in fear of what they would do to him.

The crew was dismissed leaving Tubbo, Tommy, and Dream alone.

“I want both of you to listen.” Dream started his tone raising all hairs on the back of Tommy’s neck, “Phil and his crew led you to us. They didn’t comply the first time and poisoned your minds. We did the right thing, and fixed you. Now, there are some rules you have to follow. You may not wander the ship, only go anywhere with one of the crew members. You will both share a room and follow the same schedule. Anything you do that is not an order deserves a punishment, for it is proof of what the other crew poisoned you with. Now! Go to your room, it has a black door.” With that the man finished and the pair headed towards their room.

The speech sounded right, yet felt wrong. But everything was justified, therefore it was fine. Plus the worrying was just a problem for future Tommy, maybe that’s what Dream meant by the other crew poisoning him.

The other said nothing as they entered the room, only fixing Tommy with a bitter gaze which turned into something of confusion. Neither one slept, they couldn’t bring it in themselves to sleep, especially since Dream hadn’t told them to.

Instead both of them settled into a silence as they lay on their bed, only getting up when the man told them too. This was all they could really do as they faced their new reality. Slowly but surely their brains began to believe every word of the speech. Finally when the man asked to join him, a bubbly sickly joy gave them the grace to finally help their rescuer.

Six months after the initial capture, one month of torture and five months of vigorous training, consisting of fighting, weapon design, and hours of studying blueprints, they were finally able to go on their first mission with their rescuer, not questioning anything any of the crew said at this point. Sick months of training and they became living weapons ready for whatever the cruel world threw at them…

This is a dream.. right?

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Chapter 7- End

Words: 2221

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Notes:

Hahahaha I am in pain from writing this... please bare with me.. ;-;

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Dream is being a manipulative bastard... I mean the character. More specifically my take on Dream’s character in this situation... ahhhhh

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I hope you’re staying safe, don’t forget to take care of yourself!! <3 also likes are appreciated but reblogs are always better! <3

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[yummyinmytwistedtummy]

Draconic Instinct: Malleus x Reader vore

So... this was originally going to be posted on the 7th for @twistedtummies2′s birthday, but I saw that they were having a rough time recently and decided to post it a bit earlier. I’m a little unsure about how this one came out but I’m gonna post it anyways. I hope ya’ll like it, and happy early birthday/happy easter @twistedtummies2.

I swear I didn’t mean to make it so romantic. It just kind of happened.

   There were hardly any words to sum up how you felt at this moment, but to say the very least you no longer envied ant man's power of shrinking on command. You supposed fictional characters couldn’t get vertigo but you certainly did and it wasn’t pleasant.

   Groaning, you sat up and held your stomach and head. It hadn’t taken you long to figure out what happened. The only thing you were left wondering was how and why it had happened.

   With awe and slight fear you gazed at the world around you and how different it was to when you weren't the perfect size to soak in a teacup.

   Everything was 10 times the size it had once been. Maybe even bigger. Bushes loomed over you, flowers were bigger than your hands, grass was like walking through a corn field, and when you looked up at the trees they were larger than skyscrapers. In comparison you were roughly the size of someone's palm. 

   Being shrunk definitely wasn’t on your bucket list, but NRC never really seemed to care about what you wanted. “Great, how am I gonna get back to the dorm now?” You huffed and placed your hands on your hips. 

   Several ideas came to mind yet none of them were actual solutions. You couldn’t walk, it would take forever. You couldn’t call anyone since your phone had cracked when it fell from your hands before you shrank. You also couldn’t ask Grim for help since he was already back at the dorm.

   The one day you actually needed his help he was sick because the little furball ignored your advice and ran out into the cold rain the night before. You sighed and looked at your surroundings again. 

   It was rather odd that you were shrunk today. Not that being reduced to a few inches tall was ever normal, but today was a particularly peculiar time to fall victim to more troublesome magic. 

   Today was your birthday. 365 days in the year and today was the day that something like this happened to you. At this moment your gorgeous beau was waiting for you back at the ramshackle dorm with some movies so you could cuddle up and relax together after a long day of school.

   Although you doubted Grim would let you have any alone time with the prince since he was so sick. A sick Grim was a clingy Grim. You didn’t mind as long as he was comfortable but you had been hoping to watch your boyfriend indulge in some ice cream later that evening. You still loved Grim but you were a bit bitter about the fact that your favorite bonding activity with your boyfriend was cancelled.

   Now you couldn’t care less about it as it seemed that you might miss the evening all together. A frown decorated your features and you grumbled unhappily about the situation as you began to walk in the direction of the dorm.

    You would never make it home in time, but there was no use in standing around and pitying yourself. As you walked you tried to recall anything out of the ordinary that had happened during school. Besides the birthday wishes and occasional presents, everything checked out.

   Maybe it was someone’s unique magic. You hadn’t seen anybody around as you were walking home but then again you weren't really paying attention either. Apparently you weren’t paying much attention now either as you hadn’t noticed the giant teen approaching you until it’s shadow fell over your very tiny figure.

   You looked up and gasped. A very large hand was reaching down to grab you, which had been the cause of the shadow. You did what any sane person would do and tried to book it. The giant hand was faster.

   “Let me go!” You shouted angrily, but stopped when you were swung upwards in a way that made you worry that you were going to lose your lunch. “Oh boy…” Even after the ride was stopped you felt dizzy.

   “Well, well, well, lookie here. The high and mighty prefect of the ramshackle dorm!” A smug looking face appeared in your vision and you had to hold back a scream.

   The giant in front of you was the owner of the hand that had plucked you from the ground. He was dressed in a Savanaclaw uniform and resembled a bear. His smirk displayed two rows of sharp teeth that in any other situation would make you swoon. Right now though your fear conquered your kink.

   “Got ‘em good there Bazz. Aw look at ‘em all tiny and trembling. Hahaha!” Another student who you didn’t recognize came from the side and sneered at you. “What a weakling. Hardly fit to be called a prefect, especially without any magic.”

   Oh… That’s what this was about. You glared at the two men and started struggling. “Put me down you oafs!” It had been a while since you first arrived at NRC but it seemed that some people were still insistent on bullying you about your lack of powers. 

   This wasn’t the first time that other students had decided to pick on you. People sneered and called you names in the hallways all the time. It wasn’t hard to ignore them after a first few weeks and soon you began to think that they were just words. 

   No one had tried anything like harming you so far, but it wasn’t entirely out of the question. At a villain school it’s generally to be expected. It was why you so often only travelled with others. Your fellow students that you had established relationships with and trusted accompanied you back to the ramshackle dorm most days. And if they weren't around, Grim was usually there to take care of you.

   Except for today.

   You were in no way a weak individual, however it was much harder to defend yourself when you were 5 inches tall.

   The second student, a Scarabia student from the looks of it, had a curly mop of red hair and cheeks spotted with hundreds of freckles. His eyes were a light blue color and his crooked smile revealed good dental work. He would have been more attractive had he not been leering at you or practically peeling apart at the seams from sunburn.

   Bazz, the bear manimal, had dark skin and medium length black hair. His eyes glowed yellow as he smirked with teeth so disgusting they almost matched his eyes.

   Several more students, from nearly all the dorms, crept out of the shadows and surrounded your initial two captors. The color drained from your face and you willed yourself not to tremble as a series of horrific opportunities entered your mind.

   “Oafs! Ha! We aren’t oafs, you're just a shrimp!” The group laughed and you glared at them with as much malice as you could muster. “Not that name calling ever does anything.” Bazz drew your attention back to him. “We had hoped that by telling you that we didn’t want you here, you would get the message and scram. But some herbivores just don’t get it, so us predators, both physically and magically, have to teach you where you belong on the food chain!”

   You gaped and let your eyes widen. Did these buffoon’s know who you were? That you had saved their arses on several occasions, both from others and themselves. You weren’t super buddy buddy with Leona, (cause he’s a pain and doesn’t like you very much anyways), but he still seemed to care about you enough that he didn’t want you to die. At the very least Ruggie could still get some free chore help out of you.

   And if Kalim and Jamil found out what one of their students was doing they would both be unhappy, angry even if he actually managed to hurt you. There was also the deal with Azul, situation with Riddle, and the show Vil put on as well. Truthfully there were so many reasons that they shouldn’t hurt you. It was almost shocking that they still wanted to hurt you after everything.

   One thing you did notice was that there wasn’t a single Diasomnia student in the bunch. That comforted you a minor amount. At least no one in your boyfriend’s dorm disliked you enough to go behind their dorm leaders back in order to get rid of you.

   “G-guys, let’s just t-talk this out.” You held out your hands in hopes that you could calm them into a negotiating state. “Listen, you don’t want to do this really. So if you could just turn me back I’m sure we could work somethi-”

   “Shut it, meat!” the savanaclaw barked at you. The noise made your ears ring and you held your hands over them to muffle the loud shouts. “Heeheheehe… is the little herbivore scared. That’s alright no need to be shy, I like it that way.”

   The circle of boys surrounding you, howled with laughter and you cringed from the stimulus. 

   As the laughter died down, Bazz looked at you closely. “Scrawny thing like you would have barely made a meal full-sized. Guess we’ll have to kill you the old fashioned way instead.” You gasped and began to thrash in his grasp as some of the students whistled. 

   “Bazz, you should feed her to yer snake!” “Bazz! My little sister’s been looking for a new doll to dress up!” “Bazz, hey! My dog needs a chew toy and that thing is the perfect size.”

   Threatening ideas that all promised a painful demise bounced around the group, each one more horrific than the last. The scarabia boy looked like he was about to lose it with laughter and Bazz watched you struggle as if it was the most entertaining thing in the world. No one noticed the clouds above head slowly circling and becoming denser. 

   “Alright alright! Hey everybody shut up!” Bazz, who you had concluded was the leader by this point, shouted at his lackeys. “I’ve decided how I wanna kill ‘em.” he said darkly with a smirk. An almost crazy look came to his eyes and he turned you so you were on display for the whole group to see. 

   “This little magicless shit and their raccoon thing have been plaguing this school for too long. I saw we knock out two birds with one stone and get rid a both of ‘em at the same time.” he paused for dramatic effect. “We’ll coat this one in tuna and leave it for the racoon to eat, and when he’s finished we’ll tell the headmaster and he’ll be expelled!”

   The group cheered and you moaned in utter exhaustion with a dab of hopelessness. Why was this school so ridiculous. You swore one day these imbeciles were gonna set the school on fire and when they turn to you for help, you were just gonna roast marshmallows and watch them panic. 

   A part of you was scared of course, you knew how Grim got when it came to food, but there was no way he wouldn’t notice you. Besides you weren’t really all that nervous anymore now that you noticed the sky.

   Dark clouds swirled around and flashes of green lit up the sky momentarily before dying down. Malleus was obviously looking for you and he was obviously not happy. Moments after you realized he was coming a massive lightning bolt struck the ground only feet away from where the pod of students stood.

   You screamed and shut your eyes as pain lit up behind them. You were swung around as the bear man protected his eyes as well and nausea took over you temporarily. 

   Even after you opened your eyes, only blackness filled your vision. Luckily you could still hear pretty well and relief flooded your veins when you picked up the voice of your boyfriend.

   “Hmm… it appears a bunch of scoundrels have decided to pick on my darling. Unfortunate as it seems, I am at fault for letting them walk home alone. Please return them and I won’t harm you.”

   Malleus was a frightening person to be up against, however the number of other students seemed to give them hope. “Not happenin’” You heard Bazz growl. “I caught ‘em so their mine!”

   The dark fae stiffened and you inhaled sharply. Thunder boomed and some of the students appeared frightened for a moment before attempting to return their expressions to confidence. They failed miserably.

   Malleus’ eyes widened before slanting dangerously. His pupils which were already slits, thinned out in an even more reptilian like way. His cape billowed around him as the wind picked up as a result of his rage.

   Being possessive doesn’t even begin to cover how Draconia feels about you. To him you were the most magnificent treasure in his entire hoard. The shiniest most beautiful precious gem he owned and his mate. After many many years of near solitude, Malleus had come to appreciate your company more than he could describe with words. Hearing another try to claim you ignited the fire in his belly and drove most logical thought from his mind. 

   The only thing he was thinking about was getting you back to him, completely unharmed. You supposed this might be the reason that the next events were so seemingly out of character for him. 

   He growled threateningly and the students took a step back. Two of them ran for it and one looked like he was just about to. Bazz and the Scarabia student stood stiff and nervous but didn’t back down. 

   Your eyes finally adjusted and you watched as a pomefiore student foolishly took a step forward. As first years they had practically nothing to use against the dark prince, who waved his hand and a gust of wind blew the student over like he was made of cardboard. 

   Malleus obviously wasn’t in the mood to play, yet he didn’t take out the students just yet. He decided he would show them something. “Bring my treasure here!” he snarled. Bazz shook but didn’t comply.

   “Fine, be that way.” the half dragon snapped his fingers and you were effortlessly teleported into his hands. You knew from experience that he could only do that to smaller objects so you supposed it was a good thing that you were shrunk.

   “Malleus!” You cried out and looked up at him with relief. His eyes momentarily flashed with the familiar adoration that he used when he gazed at you everyday. They turned dark again when the Scarabian boy shouted, “Hey! We caught that little rat so it’ ours. You're gonna have to fight us if you really want to take them!”

   “I will.” his voice was eerily calm as he stared them down. “In due time, but first,” he raised a finger and you squealed when he lifted you suddenly. “I need to tuck my treasure where it will be safe. I wouldn’t want my mate getting damaged or having to see the gruesome mess I am going to turn you into.”

   Confusion etched itself on your face but quickly shifted into understanding. Scared understanding, but understanding no less. “Umm… Mal… I don’t think-” 

   “Shh…” he quieted you and smiled at you softly. Despite your fears you nodded, giving him permission to continue. 

   The two of you had discussed this before, as he was well aware of your interests, however you had both decided that it wasn’t the time yet. Now, apparently was the time as you found yourself hovering over him in anticipation of what was to come.

   You glanced to the side and saw the last 4 students’ faces undergo the same transition yours did except they appeared much more horrified. Squirming, you looked down and gulped when Malleus gave you one last comforting look before stretching his jaws wide beneath you. 

   A flush crept onto your face as you gazed down into the open maw of your boyfriend. His teeth were sharp like spikes waiting to clamp down and tear through anything that he decided to consume. Each dip and crevice of pink pulsing flesh was oozing with clear slime. The back of the throat was illuminated by a strange green glow that came from below. Hot, stale breath washed over you and blew your hair slightly.

   Nervousness and anticipation spread through you as you were lowered into the large mouth that you realised resembled a sort of odd cave. His long forked tongue curled around your torso tightly as it carefully pulled you past the sharp fangs and into his mouth. The action was weirdly comforting as you picked up on his concern for your wellbeing. 

   Soon you were pulled completely into the slimy maw and watched, mildly afraid as the jaws shut, sealing off your exit. The tongue unwrapped itself and slid over you instead, prodding and feeling as it tasted you. It particularly enjoyed any part of you that wasn’t covered by clothing. And as your shirt was pushed up slightly so the tongue could lap at your midsection, you felt and heard Malleus humm in delight.

   You squirmed and giggled as the tongue continued to tickle you as best it could. It pulled back suddenly when a loud groan echoed up from below, telling Malleus that it was time to eat. He had never been one to deny himself of food if it was within appropriate terms so he tipped his head back and you felt gravity shift as he began to swallow you.

   The fae grunted and swallowed thickly, using a finger to trace your form in his throat. He scrunched his face as you sank slowly down past his chest, which he thumped in order to speed up your journey. And finally he felt you plop into his stomach.

   You panted for breath as the ride down had been far too tight for your liking but almost immediately gagged when you were hit by the horrid stink of whatever meat and sweet dessert Malleus had eaten last. 

   The gut around you was fairly large and spacious compared to the size you currently were. The walls pulsed and throbbed as they sensed you in their space. It was almost as if they were trying to locate you. That’s when you realized they were. 

   A high pitched whining sort of sound alerted you to the fact that your boyfriend was checking to make sure if you had made the journey safely. Quickly you trudged through the sludge, which tingled your skin when in contact, and placed two hands on what you assumed was the front wall of the stomach. 

   You could see due to the eerie glow in the stomach but you weren’t quite sure which direction you were facing. You received an answer when a handprint pressed against you in a comforting manner. 

   “I’m alright!” you called, “Don’t worry about me!” The stomach lining tensed and you heard Malleus growl, “Impossible!” You blushed and smoothed your hand over the slimy walls in appreciation for his undying concern for your wellbeing. 

   Outside, the remaining two students who had failed to flee when they saw Draconia swallow his lover whole, trembled in their spots. Both whimpered when his gaze turned towards them and fixed with a cold and dangerous stare that promised pain. 

   “You!” the dark prince seethed, “attempted to take my mates life!” His voice raised and lightning flashed behind him. “And for that, you will pay dearly!”

   You were flung backwards into the sludge as you felt Malleus jerk swiftly as the fight began. He pointed his staff at the two buffoons and muttered an incantation under his breath before a large jet of light blasted towards them. 

   Both jumped out of the way just in time for the laser to scorch the ground where they had previously stood. 

   They looked at each other fearfully and then back at Malleus. Scrambling, they attempted to stand up and fight back, but neither were successful as they were suddenly blasted by another powerful spell. 

   Your boyfriend smirked wickedly as he watched the two students deform and shrink until there was nothing left but two large rats screeching panickedly in the grass. “You’re lucky my mate disapproves of murder. Otherwise you would be in hell right now!”

   Lightning struck again and Malleus vanished from his spot, leaving the, now rodents to scamper off into the woods, hoping the spell would wear off. 

   Flickering lights flew around the room as its owner appeared out of thin air, transported home with magic. He sighed and leaned his staff against the wall with a huff. You were quiet as you listened to the dark mage begin to undress enough to leave his midsection exposed. 

   He gently sat down on the bed and you gripped the stomach wall to remain balanced. He leaned back and grunted, placing a palm over his stomach. “Darling, you are still alright?” his voice sounded slightly strained and you raised an eyebrow.

   “Um, yes, yes I am.” he sighed in relief. “That’s good. In that case please do excuse me but-” you didn’t hear him finish his sentence before the air around you thickened momentarily before rushing upwards in a loud blast.

“GRRRRWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRP!!!!!”

   You gasped and felt your legs weaken beneath you. The large eructation bellowed around you and seemed magnified from you being inside of him. 

   Malleus moaned softly. His eyebrows drew together and he sat a bit straighter on the bed. “My apologies, darling, it appears you gave me quite a bit of gas.” He muffled another burp, which rumbled deeply in his throat and blew the fetid air out the corner of his mouth.

   “N-no need to apologise.” you said hesitantly. You were very aware of your boyfriend's aversion to rudeness, however, your interests didn’t care much and you always found yourself shaking at the knees when he let loose a bit. 

   He smirked and rolled his eyes at your reaction and wished he could see your no doubt adorably blushing face. His hand rubbed large circles over his stomach and a low purr like sound began to rumble through his chest.

   You trudged over to the wall again and placed your hands against it. He pressed back lightly in conformation that he knew you were there and you smiled fondly as you began to rub the stomach lining.

   He let out a low croon and you felt him sink into the bed. You could almost see the look of pure delight that would slip onto his face anytime you massaged his belly. If only you knew how much better it felt to him now that you were applying your ministrations from inside.

   Malleus hummed softly and peered down at his stomach with a loving and satisfied gaze. You were safe. Away from those bullies who he would further deal with later once you weren’t around to stop him with morals, as most humans had. Safe, warm, delicately tucked away inside of him, where nothing and no one could get to you. 

   His most valuable possession, most treasured jewel, most worshiped treasure. His mate. HIS! The instinctual possessiveness and protectiveness had died down a bit now that he was back in his ‘nest’ with his mate, safely stowed away in his stomach. Now feelings of regret and guilt began to fester within him as he thought about how he hadn’t really asked for permission before swallowing you.

   “Darling?” you stopped rubbing and looked up, not that you could see him, “I… I wanted to say I’m sorry…”

   You made a confused face and pressed against the lining a bit. “Why?”

   “I’m sorry for several reasons, actually.” he sighed. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you in the first place. I’m sorry that I didn’t prevent such an event from happening. I’m sorry that you were scared and in danger while you were under my care. I’m also sorry that I ate you…”

   He paused and you cocked your head. “It’s… it’s a dragon's instinct to protect their valuables no matter what. For you… in such a position… I felt that you were too exposed, too vulnerable. Even if I had placed you in a pocket there was no guarantee that you wouldn’t get hurt. What I was sure of was my ability to protect my own body, so I decided to temporarily add you to it.”

   The dark fae wrapped his arms around his midsection and frowned. “Oh darling, I hope you can forgive me.”

   You stepped back from the wall and swung your fist at it as hard as you could. He was unable to stop a magnificently large belch from erupting past his lips, which you were quite delighted about but shoved those feelings to the side. You had caught his attention, so now it was your turn to speak. 

   “Malleus Draconia!” you said sternly, “If you think for one minute that I am going to let you blame yourself for something entirely out of your control then you’ve got another thing coming to you.”

   The half dragon stared in shock at his gut and let his jaw drop. 

   “It is in no way your fault that those jackasses decided to pick on me. In fact it was bound to happen sooner or later so it was only a matter of time. Besides you can’t be with me 24/7. It’s just not possible. So you stop being sorry about it this instance or I am going to give you the gut ache of your life!” You kicked his stomach again to prove your point and he released a deep burp into his fist. 

   “HHHHRRRRRMMMMMMMRRRRRLLLLPPPHHH!!!!”

   “Oh and another thing,” you started, “I have no idea why you would be sorry in the first place, since you saved me.” He paused and knit his eyebrows together as he thought about it. “You saved me Malleus. I’m safe. I’m safe and I’m not scared or unhappy or hurt in any way. I’m safe and in fact I’m also quite content.”

   The half dragon sat up in surprise. “Yes, that’s right.” you continued, “I am enjoying this experience deeply. True it would be a bit nicer if you could stop repressing, but I know how you feel about that. So don’t feel bad that you swallowed me to keep me safe. You probably could have swallowed me just to add some fat to your thighs and I would still be in heaven.” 

   He growled at the suggestion of him killing you, even if you would appreciate it due to your twisted sense of what's arousing and such.

   You chuckled and restarted rubbing his stomach lining. “Malleus, I love you. I trust you and your decisions. If you need to do something to keep me safe, even if it did make me slightly uncomfortable. I would still love you just as much.” 

   He began to purr again and sighed. “Thank you darling. I… I suppose you’re right.” he paused. “I love you too. So very much, and because of that, along with the fact that it is your birthday… I will indulge you as much as you like.”

   You paused and gasped. As much as you’d like…? You almost shook with excitement and Malleus chuckled, sensing your joy. “Shall I start with the usual?” You nodded vigorously, then realized he couldn’t see you and blushed in embarrassment. “Yes I would like that very much.”

   Malleus smiled at your enthusiasm and waved his left hand, conjuring a bottle of soda. He much preferred to drink from a glass and have his beverage stored in glass bottles, but for simplicity's sake he decided it would be alright to drink from a regular two liter.

   Another wave and he had sound proofed his room. Something he found himself doing often since you had begun to come over. 

   Carefully he unscrewed the bottle cap, wary of it potentially exploding. You heard the hiss of air being released and backed up against the wall in anticipation of what was coming next. The next sound you heard was a series of thick squelches and some fizzing accompanied by the noise of liquids rushing downwards. 

   Soon enough a waterfall of sweet, sugary soda cascaded through the open valve above. You squeezed your eyes shut and hissed when it splashed you as it hit the stomach bottom and mixed with the acids that pooled there.

   The liquid level around you rose steadily and you heard it bubble and hiss as it frothed incessantly upon exposure to the heat in Malleus insides. The pressure in the air doubled until it became almost too thick to breath. 

   By the time Malleus had finished the bottle, the liquid level had risen past your hips and rested just below your waist. He pulled the rim of the bottle away from his mouth and panted. Almost hesitantly he replaced the cap on the now empty bottle and placed it on the bedside table. 

   “Alright darling,” he grunted, “I’m HURP!- hah… I’m ready. Give it a good kick.” Almost immediately he felt a sharp pain in the side of his middle as you gave the inside of his gut a fierce blow. His stomach groaned loudly and the air pressure thickened harshly before Malleus opened his mouth and let out one of the loudest, deepest, longest belches you had ever heard.

“BWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRP!!!!!!!!!!!! - HACK!!!”

   It came to a close after a sheer 14 seconds of filling the room with its hellacious stench. The paintings on the walls had rattled and shaken in its wake and the bottle fell off of the table it was placed upon. 

   Your ears rung and you were sure your nose was bleeding by how intensely hot you felt. Your whole face turned a lovely shade of crimson almost as dark as Riddle’s hair. 

   Malleus gasped and moaned, letting his head fall back on the pillows. Despite his favor for elegance and manners he could never deny how simply incredible it felt to release a large amount of pressure from his stomach. 

   He puffed out his cheeks as he felt another massive burp roll up his throat.

“HHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRP!!!!!”

“BRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPP!!!!”

“BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLCH!!!!”

“BRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOORRRP!!!!!!!!!”

   Several more belches, all magnificent in size, erupted past his lips and echoed throughout his bedroom. You moaned and listened as your boyfriend continuously burped without restraint. This was a once in a lifetime experience and you intended to enjoy it to the fullest.

   Finally the burps tapered off and Malleus groaned, rubbing his throat which stung a bit due to the power behind the eructations. He looked down and realized that while busy emptying his stomach of gas, he had also hacked you up. 

   The ride up had been short and tight but you hadn’t been paying all that much attention when it happened so you couldn’t say for sure if it had been uncomfortable. Rolling over on his stomach where you happened to end up, you smiled loopily up at him and he flushed looking you over.

   It made him feel nice, seeing you so small and content. While you were in danger he hadn’t gotten the chance to appreciate how simply adorable you looked, being this tiny, or how delicious.

   Malleus’ stomach growled disapprovingly at having lost its new favorite snack but he ignored it in favor of muttering a short incantation which quickly cleaned you of gut gunk. Now clean, you stood shakily since his midsection was bloated a bit, and tried to walk over to your boyfriend's chest. 

   You ended up falling over, since it was slightly like walking on a waterbed that wasn’t totally full. Malleus chuckled and you saw his eyes flash a bright green before your perspective changed rapidly. 

   It was only moments later that you found yourself, full sized once more staring into the captivating eyes of your beau. 

   “Hello darling.” he spoke softly. “Did you enjoy yourself?” You nodded rapidly and he sighed wrapping his arms around you. His hand gently runs over your hair and you let your head sit on his chest. 

   The sound of his heartbeat fills your ears and you sigh. It was quite a relaxing sound, but you still preferred the low burbles that his stomach provided. The two of you lay this way for a while, simply enjoying the presence of each other. However Malleus eventually shifts underneath you and whispers your name.

   Curiously you look up at him and he beckons you closer. 

   Closer. 

   Closer.

    Your lips touch in a brief kiss and he pulls back with a smile. “I have a birthday gift for you, but first.” He loosens his grip so he can sit up, positioning you in his lap. You shiver in anticipation when he gazes down at you greedily. Finally he leans forward enough to lick a stripe up your cheek and bite your earlobe teasingly.

“HHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMLLLLLPH!!!! - Phoosh”

   As he pulls back he suppresses a thick belch and blows the leftover fetid gas into your face. Your eyes water and you cough while inhaling deeply at the same time. You opened your eyes and Malleus could have sworn he saw hearts in them.

   “Thank you…” you breathed and he smirked. “Mmmm… as delightful as it is teasing you and getting to see...” he flicked his tongue along your lips, “taste your sweet blush. I do have an actual gift for you.”

   He moved so you could see the table where he had previously placed the soda bottle, and lifted a hand in a swift motion and whispered a few words. Suddenly a large ice cream cake appeared with a scrawled “Happy Birthday” on top. 

   The ice cream appeared to be chocolate vanilla swirl, and the frosting on top was vanilla. Decorative chocolate thorns encircled the cake’s base and had been arranged to appear as if they were climbing the dessert. Just above the wording a candle in the shape of a spinning wheel sat delicately. The spindle part was engulfed in a small green flame that danced almost eagerly as it waited to be blown out.

   You gasped and turned back to look at your boyfriend in surprise at the complicated cake he had (ordered you presumed) gifted you. The overly large size and ice cream part didn’t slip your notice and you had a feeling this night's adventures with your interests were far from over.

   “And one more thing.” Malleus spoke hesitantly, as if nervous by the next gift. He waved his hand and a small box appeared. He handed it to you and you opened it carefully. Inside sat a silver ring that had been made so detailed it looked as if it had literally been woven together with several tiny vines of thorns. Right in the middle of the ring was a small emerald which flashed in the candlelight.

   Your eyes widened and you glanced up at your beau who looked as if he was holding his breath. “It’s to signify our relationship. It’s not an engagement ring, it is meant to be worn on your right hand.” You watched as he gently slipped the ring onto your right hand. 

   In the valley of thorns we have something similar to the gallagh ring that you told me exists in your world. Instead of wearing it a different way depending on your relationship, the gemstone in the middle turns black when you are single. It turns the color of your partner's eyes when you are in a relationship, and when you become married it permanently changes to that color and the band turns gold.”

   He explained how it works in a quiet voice while you admired the pretty ring and your hand held in his. Malleus pressed a kiss to the ring and looked at you nervously. “Do you like it?”

   You threw your arms around him and smiled wide. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received. Thank you so much Malleus.” You pulled back still smiling, he sighed in relief and smiled back. “That’s good to hear.” he looked like he was about to say something else but was interrupted by a loud growl that came from his stomach.

   “Sounds like you’re hungry. Why don’t we eat some cake?” he smirked and tightened his grip on your waist just a bit. “Hmmm. you mean, you eat some cake and I eat all the rest, only to end up with a big bloated tummy for you to rub?” You blushed fiercely. 

   “Yes, I do believe that sounds like an appropriate way to end the evening.” He leaned forward and kissed you once more. “Although you will always be the sweetest treat I have ever had the pleasure of tasting.” You giggled. “I love you too, Malleus.”

[dreamersscape]

In Which I Attempt to Wreak Havoc Upon Panharmonium's Heart. Or Something.

Because I am an awesome friend, clearly, and possibly making people sad/verklempt is definitely an excellent way to (belatedly 😔 but I did start before the 15th!) celebrate Kakashi's birthday, right? ;)

I will admit up front that this is nowhere near as deftly structured and compiled as your Kakashi fanmix, @panharmonium, but that is precisely why I'm not even going to try to organize all these songs into individual playlists. Yet. Plus, I have a tendency to over-explain so this way I can better expound on why certain songs remind me of certain characters. Sorry that I sorta went a little... overboard?

Everything--except a few that aren't available on spotify, I'll link to them directly--can be listened to HERE.

What I'm Looking For - Brendan Benson | Kakashi → I may be a little biased with this one because it fits SO many of my favorite characters so well, somehow, but there's just something about the upbeat/tongue-in-cheek musical cues/delivery of lines such as 'I visit hell on a daily basis, and I see the sadness in all your faces' that just feels so Kakashi to me.

Happy Ending - MIKA | Kakashi → This is presumably a breakup song, but I enjoy it so much more in a non-romantic context (and the song itself isn't really boxed in with overtly romantic framing, so I appreciate that!). Anyway, some very important instructions IMO for listening to this with Kakashi in mind: everything before the bridge is about Kakashi up through his ANBU years, but when you get to the 'little bit of love' refrain, picture Kakashi meeting Tenzo, and then becoming Team 7's sensei, opening back up to Gai, adopting all the other leaf genin, assimilating Sai and Yamato into Team 7, and it keeps building with Kakashi gaining more and more loved ones to fill the hole in his heart, and then cry tears of joy with me! Just my personal suggestion. :D

Light - Sleeping At Last | Kakashi & Team 7 (/all his kids)

with every heartbeat I have left I will defend your every breath

→ I've seen this song used for ship vids and I'm all ????? about that because this is clearly a song about the love you have for your child! But I suppose if one of my favorite pastimes is aggressively re-interpreting love songs in non-romantic ways, I can't begrudge the opposite process... too much, lol.

Heroes - MIKA | Team Minato

your blood on me/and my blood on you/but to make you bleed/the only thing I wouldn't do/.../I wish there was a way/to give you a hand to hold/'cause you don't have to die in your glory/die, to never grow old

Long Lost Friends - Transit | Kakashi & Obito

how long/do you have to say that/this is not the person I used to know/you are not the person I used to know/.../because lately, you've been looking at me like you've seen a ghost/and isn't it obvious who's been missing who the most

→ What the heck! What the heck! What the heck! What the heck! What the heck!

Against the Voices - Switchfoot | Kakashi

'cause everybody knows/the hardest war to fight/is the fight to be yourself/when the voices try to turn you into someone else

Out of the Darkness - Matthew and the Atlas | Obito? Yamato? Kakashi? Itachi & Sasuke? Naruto & Kurama? → I'm a bit undecided about this one, or if I should just not worry about choosing one character and just let myself feel all the "inner darkness is not an innate characteristic, Danzo! They're just grieving/in a lot of pain, and they can find their way out of that dark place!" feels.

Save A Place - 1969 | Kakashi & Sasuke

so I'll keep away and save a place for you/and I'll only make the same mistakes as you/.../when all the blood all over your fingers is dried up/the pain will still linger

→ I'm not uber-confident in picking out really fitting Kakashi & Sasuke songs yet, but I hope this hits a lot of the right notes for you. :)

Thrive - Switchfoot | Kakashi

I'm always close, but I'm never enough/I'm always in line, but I'm never in love/I get so down, but I won't give up/I get so down, but I won't give up

→ See, it says right there that he's never in love! Not the crux of the song, and he's not always 'in line' either, but still! :)

Disarm - The Civil Wars | Kakashi & Obito

the years burn, burn, burn

→ I don't know how I keep collecting fictional relationships that work so well for this song, but literally every single line of this song hits so hard for these two?? Will never recover from this. (Also, I usually disregard when 'my love' pops up in the last line of the chorus, as the mood dictates. :) It's pretty incidental as is IMO.)

Renaissance - Paolo Buonvino & Skin | Sakumo & Obito & Kakashi & Naruto

let me show you one last time/let me show you one last sign/you can find it/I can't say that I can change the world/but if you let me, I can make another world for us/let me suffer all for you/make this vision all brand new/we can fight them/I can't say that I can win it all, [but] come with me and I will make my words stand tall

→ Okay, this is a very odd choice given that it's actually the theme song for a different show about the Italian renaissance (if you happen to see this, Mirjam, don't hate me!), but this could be IT! The "those who break the rules are scum, but those who would abandon their friends are worse than scum" anthem that's all about building a better world based on these principles! I really hope our sharing-a-brain talent translates to listening to this song in this way because I am feeling SOME KIND of way about this!

The Lament of Eustace Scrubb - The Oh Hellos | Kakashi → I really liked the song you chose from this album for your fanmix, so now I've feeling a tiny bit too on-the-nose with my choice, but I guess this is just a Kakashi album all around. 😆

Glass Heart Hymn - Paper Route | Kakashi(+ Obito) & Sasuke(+ Itachi)

memories as heavy as a stone/ I am empty, in my end you are my beginning

This Is Home - Switchfoot | Yamato & Kakashi (+ Team 7)

and now, after all my searching/after all my questions/I'm gonna call it home

→ All finding-where-you-belong songs are actually Yamato songs. True story!

Faust, Midas, & Myself - Switchfoot | Obito

you have one life left to leave/you have one life left to lead

→ Could this be any more perfect for Obito? It even has creepy-old-man!Madara!

Pluto - Sleeping At Last | Kakashi

Always Gold - Radical Face | Kakashi & Obito/Sasuke & Itachi/Naruto & Sasuke

all my life, I've never known where you've been/there were holes in you, the kind that I could not mend/and I heard you say, right when you left that day/does everything go away?/yeah, everything goes away/but I'm going to be here till forever/so just call when you're around

→ ...but mostly Kakashi & Obito because 'there were holes in you' 😭😭😭

Lemon Boy - Cavetown | Yamato & Kakashi → You already know the delights of this song of course, but I gots to be comprehensive. :)

Everywhere I Go - Lissie/cover by Sleeping At Last | Kakashi & Team Minato

danger will follow me now everywhere I go/angels will call on me and take me to my home/well, these tired eyes just want to remain closed

→ I chose the Sleeping At Last cover for maximum angst, 'cause sometimes it be like that.

Uneven Odds - Sleeping At Last | Kakashi

maybe your light is a seed, and the darkness the dirt, in spite of the uneven odds, beauty lifts from the earth

→ ...just like an earth style: mud wall :') Okay, okay, bad jokes aside, the seed metaphor of course makes me want to associate it with Tenzo, but this is clearly a Kakashi song!

Twenty-four - Switchfoot | Kakashi & Obito

life is not what I thought it was twenty-four hours ago/and I'm not who I thought I was twenty-four hours ago/still I'm singing spirit, take me up in arms with you/you're raising the dead in me/I wanna see miracles/to see the world change/wrestled the angel for more than a name/for more than a feeling, for more than a cause/I'm singing spirit, take me up in arms with you/and you're raising the dead in me

I'm Still Here (Jim's Theme) - John Rzeznik | Kakashi

and how can they say I never change?/they're the ones that stay the same/.../they can't tell me who to be/'cause I'm not what they see/.../and their words are just whispers/and lies that I'll never believe

→ Yeah, I might've accidentally imprinted on Treasure Planet as a 14 year old, and then someone made sure this song would forever live in my heart by making a fanvid of it with my favorite character from my robin hood show, but! He's still here!

See You Again - Wiz Khalifa (feat. Charlie Puth) | Kakashi & Obito/Team Minato

how can we not talk about family when family's all that we got?/everything I went through, you were standing there by my side/and now you gon' be with me for the last ride

→ I am being very unoriginal here, and there are in fact already fanvids made for these relationships set to this song (along with many others featuring different Naruto relationships), but I don't think I'll be able to rest until I translate the movie playing in my head whenever I hear this song now into an actually watchable format. After all, they have come a long way from where they began, and I intend to make that both as touching and ironically hilarious as possible!

Goodnight, Travel Well - The Killers | Kakashi → Admittedly, I got this idea from a magnificently crafted fanvid done for my robin hood show, but I genuinely think it would be really interesting to make something similar for Kakashi centered around the time he technically died but got better? I don't know how to explain it, but I think it fits quite well.

30 Lives - Imagine Dragons | Kakashi & all the people he's loved and lost → can be listened to here.

A Pound of Flesh - Radical Face | Kakashi

then today I wake up feeling easy/and find I'm on more familiar roads/I got a darkness wrapped inside me/but now it ain't so hard to let it go/so keep a candle burning in the window/I'm almost home

Hold Back The River - James Bay | Kakashi & life getting in the way of him being with his precious people (you may be sensing a pattern here) → @the road of life: Let! Kakashi! And his People! Hold! Each! Other!!! Also, 'tried to square not being there, but think that I should have been' is absolutely about Sasuke's defection and Kakashi adding it to his long list of undeserving self-recriminations.

The Fall - Imagine Dragons | Yamato & Kakashi → 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

Shadowman - K's Choice | could work equally well for Kakashi or Obito, I think

any time tomorrow a part of me will die/and a new one will be born/any time tomorrow/I'll get sick of asking why/sick of all the darkness I have worn/any time tomorrow/I will try to do what's right/making sense of all I can/any time tomorrow I'll pretend to see the light/I just might/.../and doesn't it make you sad?/to see so much love denied/see nothing but a shadowman inside

Paint - The Paper Kites | Kakashi & Team 7

still there's a wound and I'm moving slow/though it don't show, though it don't show/I've got a hole where nothing grows,/how little you know, how little you know

→ A song for just how much Team 7 doesn't know about their sensei.

Always Find Me Here - Transit | Kakashi → ...most likely at the memorial stone. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (why am I like this)

Taste - Sleeping At Last | Kakashi

it’s bittersweet, it’s poetry/a careful pruning of my dead leaves/it’s holy ground, a treasure chest/I'm on my knees and only scratch the surface/like fists unraveling, like glass unshattering/we’re breaking all the rules, we’re breaking bread again/we’re swallowing light ’til we’re fixed from the inside

Help - Hurts | Yamato & Kakashi

take my hand and lead the way/out of the darkness and into the light of the day/.../'cause I know what I've been missing/and I know that I should try/but there's hope in this admission/and there's freedom in your eyes/.../I can feel the darkness coming/and I'm afraid of myself/call my name and I'll come running/'cause I just need some help

→ NO ONE TOUCHE ME.

Your Soul - RHODES | A mish-mash of Kakashi & Tenzo and Rin & Obito & Kakashi and Gai & Kakashi vibes? → So like, 'oh you know when you're alone/I'm holding on and on and on and on/to your soul' reminded me of your 'when you're all alone...the only thing you really think about is dying' 'but when there are two of you...the only thing you can think about is surviving.' and now kakashi - who just saved his life - is asking him 'did you want to die' and yamato is saying 'no' there are two of them and yamato wants to SURVIVE. tags as well as Gai's steadfastness as a friend, and 'I just wanna hold your hand' made me think of Rin's "Well then, I'm just going to have to connect the two of you." while holding their hands, and the sunlight/'soul shine'/'your light' motif is just A Lot in this song!!

7 Years - Lukas Graham | Kakashi → Alright, yeah, there are already approximately a gazillion pre-existing Naruto AMVs for this song and even one or two focusing on Kakashi, but they don't capitalize on all the angst possibilities in many of the lyrics or reach the fluff potential of 'will I think the world is cold or will I have a lot of children who can warm me [when I'm old]' and I cannot abide that!

Putting The Dog To Sleep - The Antlers | Kakashi & Sasuke → Okay, on one hand, this song is One Big Oof. But I do like the (potentially odd) way I've conceptualized it for Kakashi & Sasuke? Like, the first half is Kakashi going through all the tragedies in his life and getting lost in ANBU, but then in the second half it transitions to him wanting to prevent Sasuke from having to be as alone as Kakashi once was and they can face life together? It makes me emotional!

Trust Me - The Fray | Kakashi & Obito

I found a friend, or should I say a foe?/said there's a few things you should know/we don't want you to see/we come, and we go/here today, gone tomorrow

→ There are a few lines that call Tenzo & Kakashi to mind, but mostly it's Obito & Kakashi.

The Lightning Strike (What If This Storm Ends?) - Snow Patrol | Kakashi → I had to, right? My mindscape is a little murky/scattered about what specifically I want to think about when I listen to this, but obviously it has to do with Kakashi in one way or another.

Kettering - The Antlers | Team Minato(???) → Honestly not sure if this will make any sense, but yeah, vague team minato vibes?

Swans - Unkle Bob | Kakashi & Obito/Rin/Minato/Kushina/Sakumo → They should be by his side always!!!

Looking Too Closely - Fink | Kakashi → I honestly feel rather ambivalent about this one too, but I can't deny 'truth is like blood underneath your fingernails/and you don't wanna hurt yourself, hurt yourself/looking too closely' always destroys me because... well, you know. I love suffering. :(

Souvenirs - Switchfoot | Kakashi & Obito & Rin

wolves - Switchfoot | Kakashi

snowfall for the battlefield/roses for the father's sons/see them red on the ground:/bleeding/when the revolution came/we were more than hungry men/we were hoping for more:/bleeding/end. begin again./all of my world is collision and spin/hope is a world that has yet to begin/awaken, oh sleeper/awaken, oh sleeper/a new day begins

→ I wanted a wolf-related song too. :)

PRODIGAL SOUL - Switchfoot | Obito, Itachi, & Sasuke; just all them wayward Uchiha boys

Coming Down - Dear Euphoria | kid!Kakashi & his relationships

the shell/that I wore/it wasn't for fun/it wasn't to make you/stick around/it was for survival/it was what I've learnt/it was for the sun/.../our love has grown/our love has flown

→ Another one I'm a little unsure of whether it makes sense outside of my head or not, but I like the vibes?

Ghosts That We Knew - Mumford & Sons | Kakashi & Yamato? → Hmm, can I maybe submit this as a Kakashi-&-Yamato-just-need-to-mske-it-through-this-war-so-they-can-have-a-bright-bright-future song?

All Is Well (It's Only Blood) - Radical Face | Kakashi → ...he said as he's bleeding out or after he's thrown himself in the line of fire protecting someone he thinks is a better person than himself...

Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons | Kakashi

when the hour is nigh/and hopelessness is sinking in/and the wolves all cry/to fill the night with hollering/when your eyes are red/and emptiness is all you know/with the darkness fed/I will be your scarecrow/you tell me to hold on/oh, you tell me to hold on/but innocence is gone/and what was right is wrong

→ In a similar vein to the previous song. But goodness gracious! Were they NOT straight up describing Kakashi here?

Amaryllis - Shinedown | Yamato & Kakashi → Just tossing this one out there, not sure if it will make sense or if it's a reach... but I like it?

lost 'cause - Switchfoot | Kakashi & Sasuke

are we a lost cause?/or are we just lost 'cause/we won't be the future we refuse to see?/and if I'm your lost cause/it'll be your lost 'cause/you won't see me as I am, the possibility/that I'm not the enemy

→ 214 feels. (And before and after that, but yeah.)

Through the Ghost - Shinedown | Kakashi & Obito

so many silent sorrows/you never hear from again/and now that you've lost tomorrow/is yesterday still a friend?/.../everything that mattered is just/a city of dust/covering both of us/did you hide yourself away?/I can't see you anymore/.../did you hide yourself away?/are you living through the ghost?/did you finally find a place/above the shadows so the world will never know?/the world will never know you like I do ... like I still do

Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men | Kakashi → Just Kakashi having little chats with his ghosts, totally the most heartwarming way to conclude this section. 😅

Sleepyhead - Passion Pit | Kakashi → Just kidding! Here's a slightly less morbid song for the Most Tired Boy Of Them All.™ (Random aside: this was my customary song to listen to on my walks to 8AM organic chemistry classes; I found it strangely soothing! On a different occasion, after a particularly long day for her, one of my roommates didn't have the energy to make it to her bed but nevertheless requested a lullaby from us. So I obliged by playing this song for her, but she didn't seem to gain the same peace of mind from it as I did. 😄 I know it's not my place to propose anything like this, but it does amuse me to imagine bookends!Kakashi in these situations, even though it's not OChem classes he has to go to.)

General/Miscellaneous:

Rise Above It - Switchfoot | Ensemble

don't care what they're telling me/we can be what we want to be/.../just because it's law doesn't mean that it's fair/.../don't believe the system's on your side/.../the curse is spoken/the system's broken; rise above it

→ I mean, how could I not think about Naruto when this song also has the lines 'hear us sing tonight like the last night on earth/we will rise like the tide/like dead men coming back to life/we are rising, rising'? It's fun to be literal sometimes!

Doorways - Radical Face | Allllll the traumatized children → Someone has to put all those tragic childhood flashbacks to good use, after all.

Ghost Towns - Radical Face | take your pick of Itachi, Sasuke, or Post-Kannabi-Bridge!Obito

there's no comin' home/with a name like mine/I still think of you/but everyone knows/yeah everyone knows/if you care, let it go

Blinding Light - Switchfoot | Hey, Hiruzen? You may have coined the phrase, "children are the king" but I don't think you truly understand it... (insert Princess Bride joke here)

hey boy, don't believe them/we're the nation that eats our youth/.../still looking for the blinding light/still looking for the reason why/still looking for the sun to shine/all my life I've been living in the darkest night/still looking for the blinding light/to take me higher and higher

Brother's Blood - Kevin Devine | EVERYONE → ...but certainly so much you could do with Itachi & Sasuke, Obito & Kakashi, Shisui & Itachi, even Hashirama & Madara! Sakumo's teammates turning their backs on him and saying 'I don't know one thing about my brother's blood'?!?! There are SO MANY ideas I have for this song! It gives me chills and makes my brain scream.

We Need Each Other - Sanctus Real | Ensemble → Already mentioned this one to you, but I have to include it here for thoroughness' sake!

Whispering - Alex Clare | the Hidden Leaf's lost/ostracized children/orphans

who will care for the falling?/who will care for the falling leaves?

So this is probably a strange concept to come up with and apply to this song, but the 'whispering, whispering, whispering' parts brought Konaha's virulent gossiping/passing judgement about others and often kids they don't even know problem to mind, too, and yeah?

The World You Want - Switchfoot | Ensemble → If I were to make a fanvid set to this song, I would definitely keep a broad focus, but I can't deny that the lines 'you start to look like what you believe, you float through time like a stream, if the waters of time are made up by you and I, I could change the world for you, you change it for me' FOR SURE has strong Obito & Kakashi/Kakashi & Tenzo vibes.

Red Eyes - Switchfoot | Ensemble, but definitely many dashes of Uchihas 😄 → I would like to thank Masashi Kishimoto for creating a world where red eyes are a Thing of Importance so I can one day make a fanvid using this song in not just the tired or teary bloodshot-red eyes way, but in a very literal sense too.

TAKE MY FIRE - Switchfoot | The Will of Fire → 'Cause I think I'm sooooo clever. 😄

Above The Clouds Of Pompeii - Bear's Den | various parent & child relationships → This obviously derives from the not-caring-about-your-female-characters problem, but it always gets me that all the single parents in the Naruto universe are almost invariably the fathers! I guess sometimes you can safely guess that the mothers are still alive/exist, but either way we hardly ever get to see them. :/ The one exception I can think of right now is Kurenai, but maybe I'm forgetting another conspicuous single mother. Anyway, I don't know if this helps or hinders more a potential Naruto fanvid for this song, but regardless, it still gives me feelings?

Who We Are - Switchfoot | Ensemble → It just makes me inordinately happy that the chorus for this song starts with 'who we are (in the fever of our youth)', you know? :D

Brother - Kodaline | all the friendships we can stuff in here and then some → Quite a well known song I'm pretty sure, but I love how many dynamics one could showcase in a potential fanvid of this. And, not gonna lie, 'oh brother, we go deeper than the ink beneath the skin of our tattoos' deserves to be used in some sort of Tenzo 'n' Kakashi or Team Ro fan creation!

Special Bonus:

Shake It Out - Florence + The Machine | Kakashi & Obito → I'm not sure whether I would have realized how well this works for Kakashi & Obito on my own, funnily enough, but then I found this fanvid of it (containing only scenes you've seen naturally!) and it hit me like a ton of bricks. It's so well done!