#but if i actually did that in one day my college wouldn't like it lol. they have to be scaryyyyy and impossible to pass. sure thing love <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[lilacerull0]

and i am not really worried about getting into next year anymore

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.63)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: you never thought that just cuddling with Hobi on a cold day could lead to this; his pants off and you begging "Daisy please-"

Tags: fluff, a little hurt but mostly just comfort, first times, soft cuddle sex, unintentional mutual somnophilia, knotting, scenting, under clarified limits, a touch of slick kink, breeding kink, a touch of size kink (you know the good stuff), unrealistic amounts of cum, implied belly bulge, implied feral sex, small triggers after sex, small references to past abusive relationships, hole check's, knot checks, dom/sub undertones to later scenes but not in the main smut,

W/c: 14.2k

A/n: thank you guys for being patient for this next chapter :) it's one of my favorites so please give it lots of love! i know we've all been waiting for hobi's confession and the completion of their arc, did i do it justice? Also i'm sorry that i have a pathological need to end every single chapter with a cliffhanger lol, this one is no different!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

(5 years ago. Before Yoongi. Before everyone.)

Jung Hoseok cleans his arms in a bathroom. He is 21 years old, there is lipstick on his fingers, and nothing bad has happened to him yet.

Bad is all relative of course. Some would call growing up in a rich area while living in a one-bedroom apartment bad. Some people would call not really knowing your parents because they work late nights bad. Some would even say that the fact that they won’t pay for Hoseok’s college education a fucking tragedy.

But between you and me and Hoseok; other people wouldn't know a fucking tragedy if it hit them in the fucking face. Talking to some people about your suffering is like trying to make a toddler shoot the broad side of a god damn barn with a double barrel shotgun. Or like those little lemon slices they put in the water at olive garden-

It's fucking useless. And you're more likely to be sent to the hospital than get some actual fucking results. Weather it's because of food poisoning, a bullet wound, or because some idiot you trusted thinks you're a god damn suicide risk.

See right? Talking about your problems is fucking useless.

But he’s always been able to focus on the brighter side of things. It's a blessing and a curse because optimism always lies to you. It's easier to be happy than it is to be upset, at least for Hoseok at this moment.

At least he was an optimist until they ruined him a little. After this year, finding the silver will take effort.

The tiles beneath his feet are cold to the touch. He knows that there’s a button somewhere to turn on the heated flooring but he just can’t find it. Hidden and unfamiliar as he is with this den. So different from his own little dormitory halfway across the city.

This fancy three-bedroom apartment is one that he will move into in precisely 4 months once they make it official, he’ll live here for exactly 2 years 3 months, and 8 days before being kicked out and moving into the pack's den. It’s exactly 2 years to the date that he meets Min Yoongi in the record store.

But nothing bad has happened to him yet. Today he is just himself, No idea of what's about to befall him and that It won't just be bad.

This apartment is upscale, with its wainscotting and long gauzy curtains that barely keep out the sound of the city streets 5 stories below and the lightly warm June morning. He’s not quite sure who pays for this one yet. Hasn’t had the chance to ask, he's only been seeing this pack for 2 months. This Hoseok is shyer than the one you know. Timid and unsure of where he should place his dulled claws.

It's all awfully mysterious. The question of "What do your parents do?" and the answer pressed to a raised finger. The truth lingering between lipstick and manicure on a single giggled breath.

"That's a secret"

He casts a glance around the bathroom, the marble counters, the plush hand towels, and even the designer soap is forghein to him.

Rich people.

It's one part tired jealousy and one part true distaste. Even if Hoseok had all the money in the world he wouldn't waste it on painting a bathroom white or powdery Dior soap. Why not blue or orange or green or pink?

(Oh Hobi. The pack’s bathroom will be green one day, with delicate tiles in the shade of the lightest moss. Not yellow-toned and not blue. he's going to help yoongi pick it out, He just doesn’t know it yet).

Their apartment is just a few blocks from the college that he attends, a freshman but not for much longer. A freshman, along with the pack's youngest. Her on the business track and him in a weed-out art department. The prerequisite humanities course is their shared battleground.

Out of everything in this story, this is the only true coincidence.

This version of Hoseok likes omegas with a bit of a dark side. The ones that are a bit bitchy, a bit entitled and alot pretty. The ones that hone their eyeliner to a vicious edge, or the male ones that act a little bit more like alphas and disobey gender norms. That’s what drew his eye to this pack's youngest in their hum 1 class.

He got a little melty when her eyes turned less “I’ll kill you if you even sniff in my direction” and more “A pretty alpha like you has to have a pack right?”

Hoseok had stuttered when he’d said that No- he didn’t.

Before long he’ll drop out because he just can’t cut it at art school. Just can’t spend nights with fingers black from charcoal, working on things that will one day be thrown in the garbage because he’ll have a pack to attend to. Good alpha that he is.

(It will be years before he realizes that it wasn't art school just mediums. He’s meant to use flowers to make things instead.)

They’re not his pack yet, not yet. not yet. Not Yet- But there is a gift waiting for him downstairs. A fancy set of pastels and paints. It’s the start of courting even though he’s supposed to be the one buying them gifts. He’s the penniless college student they’re the ones with the nice apartment. He’s the one with the knot, and they’re all omegas. It’s a give-and-take.

Yet somehow even though he’ll be the only alpha he knows he won’t be the pack alpha.

He cleans the lipstick from his fingers. Bright red. He knows he has it in other places too, down below the tugged low hemline of his pants pulled on after they were done fucking.

The last thing he wants to be is like the other alphas in the fraternities on campus, the ones that holler at all the omegas shit like “I can taste your slick from here baby,” and “want to study anatomy together? I’m a hands-on learner” Hobi dreads the idea that he might be like that. Even a little bit. Even unintentionally.

But still, their words from earlier ring in his ears.

“They haven’t been dating for that long, you can’t expect us to be comfortable all the time with you in our nest, it's a really intimate thing for us."

Hobi feels like one of those phraternity alphas when it makes him uncomfortable.

It’s reasonable that they wanted to give his knot a ride and try him out before they make it official. One alpha and four omegas, these odds are every alpha’s wet dream. He knows his performance was Oscar-worthy.

It had been nice to be in a nest for just a little bit, Hoseok’s biology wants it, the tense knot between his shoulders all loose.

Hoseok has never been loved by someone who wanted to talk to him every day, it will be easy for them to reduce his focus to their beck and call.

There's 4 different colors of lipstick on his cock. Four different shades from four different women. His new packmates get to the carrot part of the carrot and stick arrangement.

In the future, he’ll deny that he ever thought of any of these women as that- as packmates. He'll say it was only ever Namjoon’s pack that he wanted in this way. He’ll say it never compared and it didn’t. Except for these first few months. These first few days.

Memories lie to us all the time; memory is the best secret keeper.

He watches one of his packmates sit on the edge of the nest, she wears the lipstick prints better than he does. Lining the inside of her thighs, her own lips smudged.

Hoseok doesn’t let the smile fall from his lips and she smiles back. She tugs her long hair free of a bun that she’d put it up in so that she didn’t get slick in it. It will be a few more months until she cuts it above her collarbones. Blunt to a brutal edge.

Hoseok’s sweatshirt is on the edge of the nest, and Hoseok watches as she brings it to her nose, breathing in deep. Hoseok is just about to say that she can wear it when she throws it onto a nearby ottoman. Not onto the floor thankfully. No omega has ever worn his sweatshirt before. Hoseok tries not to let the rejection of his scent sting.

She looks at the lipstick on Hoseok, there’s a bit on his lip. “Come here.” She asks, parting her legs.

Hoseok is a good alpha and goes.

~-~

(Now, You and Hobi)

When Hobi wakes it's because the pack is moving around the room, bickering, and struggling to be quiet, bickering a little.

Their low hum drum voices as they talk about “Jungkookie? where did you put my mittens?” and ”I sort of love that you still wear mittens, babe.” Yoongi’s deep rumble, “Did Jimin buy those for you too?” All teasing and understanding. Because if anyone knows how Tae likes to be teased, Yoongi does.

Tae’s fond little croon is so melodic it makes Hobi sigh, ears straining to hear more of it. “Yes, he did. Got pup matching ones too.”

Pup. that’s you. Curled in the center of the nest under Hobi's elbows. dozing but unable to lift your head from where it's pillowed. You’re sure that Yoongi knows you’re kind of awake or at least listening in because Yoongi knows everything.

You’re sure that as he looks down at you and Hobi tangled together, he’s doing it with a smirk. You don’t need to open your eyes and double-check.

The temperature of the nest is balmy, overly warm in the way that it gets when it’s cold outside and the nesting is hitting so particularly good that Hobi won’t even think of moving. (The way it feels when you come out of the cold and into the waiting arms of someone you love) Hobi nuzzles into the warmth in front of him.

A small storm brews outside. The snow has been falling since midday. Just a little here and there. But Tae loves how it looks with all the Christmas lights. There aren’t quite enough up yet but the holiday season is close.

But the snow won't last, soon it won’t be falling at all. It will all melt off by tonight, the afternoon is supposed to be sunny. Can sun showers happen with snow?

"Do you think we could walk all the way to the gym, it's not all that far! only like 10 miles. We could run it in like an hour!"

He listens to the others talk. The sound of Yoongi’s voice, gravely and vaguely upset. “Jungkook, you’re not really thinking about going to work out right now- You’ve barely been home for like 5 hours. I just said we could go do something not run 10 fucking miles.”

Jungkook always gets this way; when the dizziness of the seizures turns to restlessness and he's honestly fine but the others can't resist trying to baby him. Too awake to sleep anymore. He sounds grumpy, whiney, and pouty even though Hobi's eyes aren't open to see him turn his puppy eyes on Yoongi. “I’m never going to be able to sleep tonight if I don’t hyung- I’m gonna go crazy.”

There’s the faint sound of lips meeting and smacking. Kisses that are probably meant to soothe Jungkook. “How about we compromise pup.”

“A walk?” Tae offers, sounding hopeful.

“A long walk.”

You shift a little and Hoseok opens his eyes. You're mostly still asleep just settling, making yourself more comfortable with the new space no longer corralled by arms and bodies.

Hobi’s mouth is dry when he watches you shift onto your stomach your face half-smushed into the cushions, scenting them a little in your sleep. The homey scent fizzle in Hoseok’s bones tells him that you've scented him too. Being surrounded by the pack's scent like this makes Hobi’s skin feel like pop rocks. Like his bones are mentos and coca cola. All sensitive and tingly.

He’s cuddled with you before- through your nightmares and last night at the hospital of course- but it’s never been just the two of you in a nest. He’s never been the only alpha here, charged with guarding the pillows and blankets and you curled soft in the center.

Hobi tentatively puts an arm around your waist, tugging you a little closer. The house still hasn't totally warmed up yet and you'd be cold without some body heat. He does it slowly, seeing if you’ll wake.

There is a hand in his hair, petting softly, and he snatches his arm from around your waist the second Hoseok realizes he's being watched. Yoongi leans over the edge of the couch-turned-nest, smirking a little. The door shuts behind Tae and Jungkook with a puff of cold air, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

He would look intimidating if his beanie didn't have cat ears. 

The pads of Yoongi's fingers rub soothing circles under Hobi's jaw and his lips part unintentionally. “Be good yeah?” he says, whisper soft. Hoseok just nods, too sleepy to verbally respond.

They haven’t talked much about Hobi’s confession; that night on the beach what feels like ages ago. But everytime he thinks of it Hobi still tastes salt on his tongue and your name on his lips. 

Yoongi’s wearing the same look now that he did then; half hopeful and half worried. But if there was anyone that would object on your behalf, if Hobi wasn't allowed this closeness with you, Yoongi would tell him.

Yoongi doesn't say that you and him aren't ready for cuddling like this. Yoongi doesn't say that Hoseok should give you space or not cradle you to his chest like you are something as fragile and necessary and as doomed as his beating heart. Trembling and stuttering with the force of sweet expectations and hopes made hollow with satisfaction.

Yoongi does not realize that Hoseok's heart has not had a steady beat since he woke up holding you.

Yoongi doesn't say anything. Yoongi just drags a single knuckle down his cheek and leaves. Heading out after Tae and Jungkook who are, judging from the hallow sound of snow hitting the windows- are having a snowball fight.

“If one of those hits me I’m not holding anyone’s hand for the whole walk-“

The door keeps out the sound of Tae's sweet giggles and Jungkook’s pouted, "just one hyung- I won't hit your face-" 

And the two of you are alone. Wrapped up warm, quiet and hushed, just the two of you.

Well, except for Noodle.

The meticulously kept edge of the nest is all fluffed, Noodle makes sure of it. Small paws depressing the blanket as he kneads it and then settles on the edge. His purr is audible from here as he blinks slowly from the bottom of the couch turned nest. Jin wrangled him for a brushing yesterday morning and his coat still looks extra fluffy and kempt. 

Unwatched and unjudged, Hobi tentatively reaches to cradle your ribs again. Thumb smoothing down the center of your stomach, a little close to your belly button. You’ve got a little hair there. Hobi’s fingers like the feel of it. Not rough but not silky.

Your skin feels like champagne bubbles and sparklers, everywhere he touches your skin goes fizzy. Hobi looks down at you, breath hitching, and thinks Is it really so horrible to want this? Why am I so afraid of this? 

You wiggle a little closer in your sleep and Hobi’s arm goes vicelike.

Noodle's purr goes a little louder. 

Hobi doesn’t like to think about his last pack ever, but he recognizes that hollow ache and tug that says memories aren’t too far behind. And it threatens to swallow him until he looks down at you. The house is quiet but your eyebrows are puffed up like something very shocking is happening in your dreams. He doesn't want to think about them right now. 

He drags his nose across your hairline; scenting you. Tasting your emotions on his tongue. Comfort. Ease. Arousal-sweet. Not all that abnormal. Not nightmares then. He is always on the lookout for them. After Jungkook and the hospital, he sort of thought they might come back. 

Hoseok counts his stars and snowflakes, and rests his forehead against the nape of your neck.

Over the next hour, you’re restless. Moving, worming your way closer to him as he goes in and out of sleep. You make a soft noise and he shushes you. a growl that says to stay put and alpha's here.

You blink slowly up at him. Hobi pulls back, taking his arm from around your waist, feeling like he’s just stolen candy from a jar on the counter that’s for him anyway. You stretch and don't comment on it, yawning. 

Noodle hops closer, squirming between the two of you and stepping over your shoulders. Meowing right in Hoseok’s face. “Alright alright, I’ll feed you again.”

You snuggle into the warm hallow he left on the couch when he detangles himself, hand under your cheek watching him as he stumbles out of the nest. Noodle follows tail held high. It's truly horrible. Leaving the nest when every bit of Hobi's body wants him to stay in the warmth. The house is always so slow to warm up. 

“Fuck the floors are cold.”

“Quick,” you say, face above the edge of the cover. Hoseok rushes, doling out a single scoop of dry food and then running back to you. Hobi wastes precious seconds to grab his headphones from the kitchen table before collapsing onto the couch where you hold the blanket up, sealing the warmth and him back inside. The headphones tangle between the two of you and he falls with a giggle. Disappearing among the white blanket. He sinks thankfully into the warmth, into the safety that the nest offers. Into you.

Your warm arms wrap around his shoulders and his body shivers delightfully in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. Your jaw pops when you yawn and then he yawns too, a breath later. You laugh too and tuck your face into his shoulder.

“Fuck- it’s so cozy.”

It really is, the kind of cozy that only comes along a few times a year. A quiet to your bones that says there is nothing to do now but rest. The coldness that turns your bodies into these molten-loving things. Your warmth and Hoseok’s warmth. One warmth.

He breathes, deep and heavy.

“I don’t know if I want to get up yet.” The house is still quiet. Nothing but Noodles happy munching sounds and the faint scratch of big snowflakes hitting the windows.

Hobi’s heart beats frantic against yours and you sigh. “Wanna listen to some music?” He offers. Hobi always loves a backtrack, a little compliment for the exposition.

You nod, a little sleepy, but Hobi has a playlist for that. He’s got a playlist for everything including ’sleepy cozy pup time’. The headphones take a second to locate, lost in the nest. But when he does you share them. One earphone a piece, the sound turned low so you can still talk.

Hobi puts on a love song, and it makes you smell all sweet. Stretched out with your hair tangling because you’ve left it unbound, the split ends prodding at Hobi’s cheeks. He doesn’t really listen to the song, just watches you. Eyes closed humming softly.

Your scent sours and Hoseok's hand goes tight on your wrist. You tell him what's bothering you without him even having to ask.

“I saw this line the other day that didn't like." You look at the ceiling, not at him. "it said a love song is really good if you can’t tell whether they’re talking about another person or if they’re talking about god.”

You think about Jimin and Tae. You've been thinking about it since Tae talked about their childhood earlier and the bloody cross between the two of them. If holiness does exist, it’s in Tae. If there is anything like religion for you or Jimin, it's love. God has nothing to do with it. God's not the person who makes love songs sound good.

Hobi turns on his side, leaning on his elbow. “I’m not sure Jimin would agree with that either.”

You turn in time to see Hobi’s smile. It catches the sunlight, lingering right on his cheek. An octagonal shaft of sunlight that has traveled millions of miles to get there could not have found a more beautiful place to fall. He huffs a quiet laugh again, and you swear you might hear the highest note of a piano somewhere.

You wonder when he became so musical to you, maybe it’s just because he’s the person who made you love music so much.

(You can tell a love song is good, when it makes you think of Hobi).

“You’re still worried about him, aren’t you?” You rest your lips against his shoulder and Hobi’s body doesn’t move an inch. They’re soft where they lie not a kiss but not not a kiss either. You can rest your lips against his skin, you can rest your whole body and Hoseok wouldn't move an inch.

“Always worried, got to worry about Minnie. Always worried about everyone.” You mumble. Eyes closing.

The light comes through the windows all honey yellow, turning the bookshelves that Yoongi made gold instead of white. Turns the tops of Hobi’s hair a little red too, the brown has endless depths in the sunlight all burnt umber and Sienna where the sun hits, yellow ocher at the tips. The sunlight savors falling on Hobi, down to the last inch.

You try to keep your eyes open, struggling, and Hobi sets a hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair lightly.

"Go back to sleep pup."

You hum, already half there. He pulls you a little on top of him, holding you with a firmness usually reserved for too-large packages and the tenderness reserved for very fragile very precious things. It makes your whole body feel tingly at the edges.

“Thanks for not leaving the nest when everyone else did,” you think he might be asleep for how long it takes him to answer. But everything in the last 24 hours has left you feeling like you don’t want to be alone, that you can’t be left by yourself. He breathes up and it presses against your stomach.

“Didn’t want to go with the others- just wanted to stay here in the nest with you.” nesting is a biological need for alphas as much as it is for omegas, Hobi hasn't felt so relaxed in ages.

He murmurs, hand still skimming through your hair. His thumb rolling against the nape of your neck and you shiver hard into the touch, sinking further into him. “Is that okay?”

Your hand finds a spot under his arm and you use it to tug yourself closer, getting your forehead against his shoulder, the headphones slipping from your ear.

“Yeah. It’s always okay.”

Hobi tucks your hair behind your ear and puts the headphones back in.

The next time you wake it’s because Noodle is licking at your forehead, grooming you, and you hear the shutter sound of Hobi’s camera, his small giggle. You swat at noodles face and he bats at you a little before settling on the small of your back, fighting Hobi for necessary real-estate and howling when he gets pushed off.

“Nu, be quiet,” Hobi’s hushed words are answered with an equally quiet meow that sends you straight off to dreamland again.

You don't know how long it's been, it could have been hours or minutes the next time you wake. You just know that Hobi smells good, smells musky sweet caramel all drippy and heady, that you've got your nose pressed up against his scent gland. All surrounded by it. Surrounded by him.

The next time you wake is not so innocent.

You’re a little too close. Cuddling with Hobi in a way that you might with Yoongi- with Namjoon or Jungkook. All warm snug hot. Bodies and dreams tangled so thoroughly that it's hard to tell where dreamy wants begin and fragile delights end.

You’re warm at your front from Hobi and warm on your back from the sunshine streaming through the window. Warm all the way through. Until he moves his hand and you realize that’s from him too. His fingers splayed over your spine.

You think you can be forgiven for confusing them. Hoseok and sunlight are one and the same.

The apex of your thigh is pressed tight to his hip just where his thigh starts. Your leg hitched over his hip and tight to it. The fabric of his sweatpants and the fabric of your pajama shorts are all bunched up from your movements. Your knee bent at a comfortable angle. His scent is heady in your nose, pressed to the low tugged collar of his shirt just over his heart.

As close as you can be but still not enough.

You don't even realize your hips are moving, sleepily grinding against his thigh until it's too late.

Hobi grabs your hips and groans.

You stop mid-movement, thoughts sloshing sleepy. And oh, you were moving, weren’t you? There is a dampness between your thighs and the scent of slick and arousal sharp in the air. That comfortable pleasure hiccup in your throat that says you want to cum and can. could like this.

You jerk back from the warmth in front of you, startled into wakefulness as you realize exactly you were just doing.

Oh no- you didn’t mean- Hobi. Alpha, warm and comfortable at your front.

You start to back up, still half asleep, but terror and embarrassment flood you like the ocean floods the sea rocks at high tide.

Hobi groans, a deep near growl sound, and moves before you can back up even an inch. he was just as asleep as you just were until you pulled away. His sleepy brain still clings to you.

His hands slip lower, holding you tight against his front. His sleepy alpha brain is malfunctioning. Sweet omega needs to stay close. The source of his warmth and the friction against his front cannot slip away.

His hands are on your ass and your pussy is pressed flushed to his hip, and Hobi-

Hobi is your best friend, Hobi is your packmate and Hobi has to be unaware of what he’s doing. You’re sure of it. You try to pull away again from him fighting back more embarrassment than you've ever felt in your entire life, hands pressed to his chest.

But He pulls you right back to him.

Right into a unmistakable hardness poking at your stomach. Hard and warm. Right where you were grinding in your sleep.

Hoseok’s heavy breath brushes your ear.

Instincts are incredibly hard to describe. The way they hook into your consciousness and separate reason from action and want from logic. The part of you that’s in control, that recognizes that you and Hobi shouldn’t be this close like this if it’s not talked about, is so distant.

A needy sound echoes that might be from you, that is from you, as Hobi’s hands slide up your hips and under his sweatshirt. Cold hands on your warm hips and oh-

Hobi’s eyes are cracked open, looking down at you, watching you with pink cheeks. Tongue darting out to lick at his lip. “S’okey you just-" his eyes flutter closed again; breath warm against your face. "You take what you need.”

It’s only a testament to the pack's care that you associate these things with each other. Safety and coziness are just so close to pleasure and comfort. Your sleepy body associates this kind of nesting with sex. it's only natural that you'd get a little needy while inside of it.

You can get needy, Hobi doesn't mind.

Before either of you can say if you really should, if this is really a good thing to do without talking about it first. Hobi’s hands are on your waist, pulling you back snug, his hard thigh between your legs.

If you were more awake, you’d think better of it, you’d think so much but there is only that sweet pressure. The drag, the wetness, the soft little huffs of breath that he shushes when he lets you take what you need. Helps you with his hands on your hips and guides you back into rocking against his thigh.

You feel it all the way down to your toes when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass then back up again, underneath the hem of your shorts and then your sweatshirt- his too (all of you his). Rucked up to your ribs.

“Soft.” Hobi groans.

This must not be real. This has to be a dream. Because Hobi doesn't want to touch you like this, Hobi doesn't groan and twitch against your stomach or guide the movement of your hips with his hands into a slow grind that has you gasping against his jaw. Hobi doesn’t leave the seat of your pajama bottoms soaked with slick. Hole clenching around nothing already. Utterly boneless where you lie against his front.

There is one single moment where you look at each other, one single moment where you try to keep from going any farther. Even though you want it, even though he wants it too. If Namjoon and Jin have taught you anything they've taught you caution.

Hoseok can smell the others lingering on your skin, the spot on the top of your head where Yoongi rested his cheek. He leans down, brushing his lips over it. It’s such a tender gesture and it breaks the flood and he's tugging you up, tugging you even closer, desperation coloring his voice all sweet.

“Fuck- please.” His forehead rests against yours, “fuck I just need-“

You're not sure who moves first, who starts the kiss only that once you’re kissing him it’s hard to stop. One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.

Teeth clanging against each other, harsh as they nip. Kissing so good that when you pull apart for breath you're both gasping and it has nothing to do with needing air.

Hobi has such nice lips it’s no wonder that they’re heart-shaped. Made for kissing, made for the needy needy licking against the seam of his lips. He shifts turning you on your side, surging up to kiss you properly and put his weight behind it. cradling your head with one hand and your side with the other. You’re so pliant, so willing to let him kiss and take. You want him to take everything. arms around his neck.

He breaks apart, forehead resting against yours, heart beating so quick that he can feel it in his palms. Pupiles blown when he blinks. “If you take what you need, and I take what I need- Can we-“

Your hands thread hard in his hair. Tugging him back to your lips. Closer and closer. “Fuck Yes- please-“

You don’t know where the wanting comes from, why it’s raging through you like a fire. His lips move against yours frantic, you bite his lip and he jerks. Hovering over you with your back against the nest, all tingly and fizzy. Your bones feel like champagne popping, like shooting stars burning out.

Hobi’s hands shake when they touch your hips, just like yours do when you mirror him, your touches shy but just as hungry, tugging up his shirt, fingertips and nails pressing bluntly to his happy trail of fine dark hair. You can feel the way his cock jumps against your stomach and thigh when you scratch gently.

You pull back a little and sit up and it’s sacred; the way that he panics, scrambling to hold onto you. You're A little bit shy when you take off his sweatshirt, nothing underneath. hair fluffing when you get it free from the cotton.

Your bare skin and the cold room. You get goosebumps on your arms almost instantly when they cross over your bare chest. Hobi’s breath stutters in his chest, like roman candles flare and settle. Hobi takes his sweatshirt from you and sets it aside in his haste to hold you again.

He starts to tugs his pants down, getting tangled because he won't even pull back an inch from you. You kiss his throat, again and again making up for lost time. Sucking a mark there. His hands fumble with the waistband of his tied tight grey sweatpants. finding the loops and then freeze when he feels wetness. Pulling back and looking down just to make sure that that is what he thinks it is. you stop your kissing and look too.

There is a wet spot, darkening the grey material. Your slick from your grinding, the spot where you got so worked up and felt so good that you couldn't even help it. He pulls back so that the light can kiss it but yeah that's definitely from you. Evidence of how much you want this. Evidence of how much you want him.

Hoseok thinks you might have actually set his body on fire. Is about ready to start checking your fingers for matches.

You blush so hot that you think you might be burning in embarrassment. Hands between your legs, clutching at the material of the nest, so embarrassed you can't watch as Hoseok looks down at it and then up at you.

“I’m sorry I- I can’t help it- I'm always-“

Hobi’s hands smooth over the wet patch, splaying up to cradle his cock where you’ve left your mark. And he looks at you, jaw rolling and eyes dark. He doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

It’s hasty how you both move to take his pants off, and he kicks them to some forgotten corner of the nest, his boxers pulled off too, and then clings to you. You cling to each other. Kissing again. Hands knotting through his hair and tugging.

You glance down and oh- Hobi has such a pretty cock. the prettiest in the pack maybe (don't tell Tae), Flushed at the tip, hair neatly trimmed and curving up.

Your bare thighs press to his adds a whole new level to this, the skin there is sensitive and unknown. Lying thigh to thigh somehow feels more intimate than chest to chest as you lie the way lovers do, your leg, his, then yours again.

You’re damp between your legs when he touches, hands shaking. He doesn't bother to take off your shorts just tugs the soaked bit of fabric to the side. It’s been a long time since he’s touched a pussy but he knows enough to do it gently. Petting over your folds like he’s teasing a flower to bloom and opening a rose for a bouquet.

“Please” you gasp, hand vicelike around his wrist. Kissing his frantic pulse again. Hot lips and a cold nose drag down his throat. You hiccup as the pads of his fingers find your clit, shaking against him. "Please-"

But you don’t need to ask, you don’t need to beg. Whatever you need Hobi will give it to you. Your hands scratch as his back when he presses close, snaking underneath his sweatshirt. Breath heavy.

He kisses your neck and bites it when his length brushes the wetness between your thighs. Hot and honey slick. his hips press to your hips, harsh lines of his thighs pointing low that you like. There is so much about Hobi that you like; the way that he kisses, the way that he touches. oh- it’s better than you imagined.

His knuckles are glossy with your slick when he curls them against the nest, holding himself up.

Hobi bends down to skim a kiss across your neck, your collarbones, your sternum.

You laugh, your giggle high and bright. He has to pull back, not upset at all but wanting to laugh too, giggling too. “Why are you?”

Your smile means everything to him. “Your hair tickles.” It is kind of fluffy, kind of pulled everywhere from your kissing and you run your fingers through it, scratching a little around the nape of his neck, and Hobi is done playing.

He pulls back, already dripping a bit of precum, silvery and pearl like at the head of his cock, standing against his stomach. a little hidden because he's still wearing his sweatshirt. Checking because he can’t not check.

“Is this- can I- fuck are you-“

“Daisy, please-“ Oh, how that pet name unhinges him.

He won't make you wait another second for it, hands shaking as he holds your hip. Shushing your needy whimpers with a soothing alpha rumble as he guides his cock close. Giving you what you both need.

Hoseok is not as big as Namjoon or Tae or Jimin, but he’s properly thick. Not the kind of thickness that knocks the breath out of you but the kind that fits just right. Not enough to make you ache or hurt even a little. It doesn’t hurt at all when he eases in slowly.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

That might be because of how soaked you are; dripping messy underneath the warm humidity of the blanket. The visual of your glossy pussy robbed from him but unimportant as Hobi stares at your face, resting his head against your forehead. Watching your eyes dilate and eyelashes flutter. “There we go- fuck-”

It’s not worth pulling back to separate how close you are. How good it feels to press his chest to your chest, not even a single inch separating you. His kisses go gentle and messy, moving against yours in a gentle rhythm just like his hips after he gives you a second to grow used to it. Rocking just a little.

Hoseok has heard the others talk about your pussy, those moments that he tried to block out at the beginning and then started to file away once loving you got more real. But for everything he's heard from his packmates, nothing compares to the reality.

The closeness. The way your hips fit. The hot- too much- clench around him.

He understands a little maybe, fully buried in you for the first time, why they talk about it so much. Why Jungkook had slipped it into dirty talk a few times with Namjoon and why it had made him growl and cum so quick. Why Tae had teased Yoongi for hogging you.

Your pussy feels like an inside joke in all the best ways, the kind of inside jokes that always have you feeling both known and loved. You can’t remember what you used to laugh about when you were a teenager and if asked Hoseok would fail to describe why sex with you feels so full. Why it feels like highlights and golden ages, the golden hour drenching you. It’s not sex for pleasure’s sake and it's not sex for closeness's sake either- although that’s part of it.

It’s not sex at all, it's making love. With Hobi, it’s making love from the beginning.

It's not instincts and mating bond urges. It’s not one submissive giving to a dominant. It’s not about protection and safety even though that's there or because you're an omega and he's an alpha. Because he's a man and you're a woman.

It's just love, that's it.

And it doesn’t hurt at all. For either of you.

The eye contact is never ending, his warm and fucked out the more he rocks. Gentle at first and building up frantic. Hobi doesn’t fuck like the rest of the pack does either; he doesn’t speak, letting out these quiet heavy breaths and shushing your squeaks with soothing alpha grumbles. His thumb wiping away the few overwhelmed tears that slip out and a smile swallowing your hiccuping breaths.

"Fuck” he breathes, moving his hips a little faster. His stomach presses to yours damp and tacky with sweat. Hoseok’s doesn't fuck in and out all the way, hardly moving away from you at all. Just rocking in deep.

Hobi doesn’t stop hitting every spot, comfortable with these unending rocks of his hips, maddening in the way that he never stops filling you. Never pulls out even half way.

Your hands weakly clench in the blankets of the nest as he twitches right there. That sensitive spot inside of you that feels like courting ecstasy when he nudges it. It’s the same spot that Yoongi likes to tease at, the spot that only his long fingers can reach properly and Tae’s too when she’s really trying. Ghosting over it and petting at it until you’re mad with pleasure.

But Hobi doesn’t tease, Hobi just gives. rubbing against it again and again with every gentle roll of his hips.

you put your hand over your mouth to quiet your whimpers when he pulls back, sitting up just a little. Holding your waist and forcing your body further down on his cock, nudging it as deep as it can go and you sob.

Hobi grins, a little cocky, a little pleased that despite his size compared to the others you're still equally as wrecked.

“Right there yeah?” he teases, and then rocks against it again. thumbs pressing against your stomach where he cradles you. waist so tiny that they almost meet when he holds you.

Your cheeks are hot, and you have to turn and whimper into the pillow. he lets you shift so that you're belly down in the nest and he's behind you glued to your backside. lying his weight down behind you like a blanket. pressing you into the nest where you'll stay like a good pup.

Hoseok instincts are absolutely purring. omega, getting bred in such a pretty nest. Good warm soft omega.

Your hand laces with the blanket, needing something to hold onto and he kisses the back of your neck, treading your hands together as he keeps going. This new position lets him rock in even deeper, putting his weight behind it.

“If you keep going, I’m not gonna be able to-”

His breath ghosts your ear, lips dragging down the column of your throat to nip and suck gently at your scent gland, marking you there. his hand presses, holding you to the bed as he rocks harder. His barely formed knot already inside and growing, getting you closer and closer as it thickens. Keeping him right there at the spot and you on the edge. You're so wet it's making noises, soaking and dripping down his cock.

He kisses your mating mark, nipping at it, and you’re gone.

You cum, a wet gush around his knot and a broken whimper. a growl in his throat sounds loud in the empty house. It sounds like made mate happy, made omega cum for me. Hoseok's Alpha is absolutely preening watching your Legs shake, the nape of your neck sweaty, body slack and head tilting to bear your neck. both of your bodies messy from it, filthy and blushing with love.

Hobi’s not far behind, rocking another time, a third, a quiet satisfied breath into the back of your neck before his knot pops locking you together as he cums so gently. No growls or gasps, just hot spurts that fill and satisfy you. Knot popping and Locking you so close you can feel his cock pulse. So close you can feel the same heartbeat on his lips when kisses you, hurried kisses pressed to the nape of your neck that quickly go slack with sleep.

Your hand settles across your stomach, and oh- you realize why hobi wasn't bothered by how wet he got you earlier. He just keeps cuming, so much that it's leaking a little around his knot. You're not sure that Jimin or Tae or Yoongi cum this much, Namjoon definitely does- but thats kinda proportional.

he just keeps going, heat flooding you. Maybe he's only cumming so much because it's the first time, and he needs to claim you from the inside out. you're a little too dizzy to figure it out.

You feel like you might pass out. You don't know if it's squirt or cum or just sweat when he lies himself over you. cuddling closer despite the mess. Teeth at your bared throat, Sucking softly, Soothing.

instincts are kind of embarrassing at best, irrationally hot at worse. you squirm a little closer so that his knot goes deeper.

The sunlight spills across your cuddled forms, still underneath the big thick blanket. He doesn’t pull out, the knot keeping him snug tight. His hand is on your cheek, rubbing up and down your jaw. He pulls the blanket up around you. And neither of you says a word as your rapid breathing calms.

You’re not sure who falls back asleep first. Only that he wraps his arm around you and pulls you back on top of his chest, cuddled there. Knot warm and safe inside of you.

knotted together like this, you're finally finally close enough.

~-~

When Hobi wakes you’re watching him and his dick is out. Wet and slick and cold.

That would certainly cause him to be alarmed if it wasn’t for your expression; a little pale. Hands between your legs and looking at the doorway.

You just really don't want to drip cum onto the couch, like- obviously. Hobi didn't hurt you. But the brief terror at waking up uncuddled and so suddenly douses Hobi like a bucket of cold water.

The cold might be the actual reason for his sudden wakefulness. The wintry air in the room is jarring because the house is finally heating up. (as much to do with the heating system doing its job as it is with your activities earlier that turned the windows all hazy with condensation).

It's like someone had just come in and then abruptly left again. Your cheeks are pink, and there is a cloth on the side of the couch, folded and warm. You didn't get it for yourself.

“Don’t freak out, but Yoongi and the others walked in while you were asleep.”

You’re kind of glad that he wasn’t awake to see your mate barely contain his screech, jumping up and down with Jungkook in the entryway. Namjoon’s subtly grinning expression when he took in your appearance and paused in the cold doorway breathing in deeply. Tae wrapped around one arm; their walk interrupted by his return from surgery.

He groans, barely awake enough to think about the visual that Yoongi and the others were treated to. The consequences are better than a shot of expresso at wakeing him up.

But really, was there ever a possibility that the others wouldn’t find out about this? Does Hoseok even want them not to know?

He's too tired, too think about this logically.

Hoseok wonders why he didn’t wake to you holding him. He’s seen you hold the others, hold Namjoon in the morning when you smell like him. The way you wake slowly and run your fingers through their hair. The other alphas have a habit of cuddling up to rest their head against your chest. Hobi remembers that day by the beach when you pet his hair, he wants you to do that now.

But he can't fucking ask. Asking you to cuddle him would be fucking embarrassing.

“Shit." He shakes off his neediness and easily locates his boxers in the mess of the nest because they're bright red. Surreptitiously tucking his now soft and deflated knot back inside. You look away, letting him have that moment of privacy without comment. Your arms curl around your chest, you’re still nude from the waist up. thighs clenched togeather.

“Yeah uhm, they went back out to like- give us some space.”

"Did they say anything?"

You look away, wiggling over to the edge of the nest. "No. But they looked like they wanted to say a whole lot.”

You definitely don’t say that you heard their scuffle, Namjoon and Tae using their alpha privileges to wrangle an overly excited Yoongi and Jungkook. or that both of them had come back inside, both with pink cheeks smelling sweet at the sight of Hobi’s face pressed to your neck and the fresh hickeys at your throat.

(Hobi’s hickeys are always so small and cute. Tae can’t wait to take a picture and save it, for memory's sake. She’s half tempted to take out her phone and snap a picture of the two of you now.)

Your hiss of “Don’t say anything, I swear to fucking god if you wake him-" cured her of any bad ideas and had Namjoon grinning, his dimples showing.

Yoongi’s finger pressed to his lips in the doorway. Smiling wide and showing his gums. Omegas do get awfully protective over alphas in their nests. Especially post-knotting.

You’re honestly a little surprised that their muted shouting hadn’t woken Hobi. The closed door had kept out the cold but not the sound of them discussing on the porch; mostly Tae's insistence that they needed to get out of the house for lunch instead of heading back inside.

“But what if they need aftercare?”

"We shouldn’t leave them alone and unprotected.” (Classic Joonie).

“Yeah! What if they need cleaning!”

Yoongi snorts, “Gross Jk- I’m pretty sure the last thing they want is you licking up Hobi’s cum.”

“But he always likes it when it’s Jinnie-" that had your face and body heating (although that could just be Hobi- a literal furnace that he is wrapped around you).

Now his warmth is on the other side of the nest yet it feels impossibly farther away. As you both stew in silence under the weight of what you’ve done, what you just did.

Everything feels quiet and scary as you put yourselves back together in silence. You use the wet washcloth to keep yourself from dripping all over the couch while he looks for his pants in the mess of blanekts that smell like sex.

Thoughts like shit shit shit and what have you done ping-ponging back and forth across his brain. Mind bouncing between unlikely personal regrets and likely female rejection (of which he is only too familiar with).

Hobi doesn't like feeling rejected, it always brings up bad memories. He didn't wake up to you holding him. Is that a rejection or is his brain just making it up? People always hold each other after sex. Don't they?

You reach for his sweatshirt but before you can touch it a growl bursts forth from his throat and you freeze.

Hoseok scrubs a hand across his eyes, trying to wipe away the memories fitfully. Maybe it’s just because of the fact that he woke up and you weren’t wrapped around him. He's going to have to cuddle you himself if he wants it right now.

This first time with you reminds him of other first time's that didn’t end well. He's sorry for it the second it slips past his lips.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I just- my fucking instincts feel like they're on fire."

“So can I…?” you trail off. Your skin has goosebumps again. And Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s the casual nakedness that has him feeling so unmoored. A blush trailing its way up the back of his neck even though it shouldn’t be weird. He saw you shirtless every other hour during Namjoon’s rut for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah, just wear it- please wear it.” He can’t take back his growl, but he can meditate by watching you pick it up and hug it to your chest. Looking at him for a second as if to check that it’s still alright and he’s not going to snap at you again.

There is a hickey on your shoulder, the spot where it meets your arm. Hobi doesn’t know if it’s from him or someone else. It's a little too red to not be new. You don’t look uncomfortable being nude in front of him.

If anything, you look a little bit glowy.

You look at him and then pull it over your head. His cheeks still heating stubbornly as your chest moves a little, jiggling.

Why do girls have to just- girl all the time- it's honestly a little unfair how much hobi blushed.

He watches you, sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers as you stand up pulling the sweatshirt down your hips. He stares at you until you ask a little flustered by hiding it, “What?”

He tugs on the hem of his sweatshirt, slowly, carefully, leaning forward as he tugs on one of the strings with his teeth. His hands go to your waist pulling you close gently, half sure of himself and half afraid. Hoseok is always somehow half afraid. Is this allowed? Is this wanted?

He rests his head against your stomach, loosely twining his arms around your waist to pull you closer, still loose enough that you can step away if you want. All of this can stop if you don’t want it. He hopes you know that.

Hoseok looks down at your feet, not at your face. “I love it when you wear my clothes. I really don't know where that came from.”

“Careful,” you say, a grin in your voice. Your tone light because you don't want him to smell so sour again. “I’m gonna go for your pants next.”

You snatch his from the floor and dart away. Nothing excites an alpha’s instincts like a chase, and Hobi feels the fire light down his spine. His movements are a hunt-heavy blur. Brain honed in on you.

He catches you by the counter, your giggle echoing off the high ceilings. His blood heating again as he drags you by your hips and flops down into one of the bar stools, sitting you on top of him with a growl.

His hands grip hard around your waist, determined until he’s shy. Letting you go softly, “Sorry I just-”

“Instincts still? Don't worry I get it.” You give him his pants and sit up off his lap so that he can put them on. And now is not the time to get another boner Hobi- but it’s kind of hard not to when you smell so bred, so wholly satisfied.

Hobi did that. Hobi's the one who made you look like this drowning in the afterglow.

Your own instincts are telling you that you want to take the blankets from the couch and drag them upstairs, and tuck them in around the scents of the others. So that they can all see and smell how good you made your alpha feel.

Hoseok’s pleasure leaves an undercurrent to the air that’s intoxicating. Half sugar-sweet and musky alpha. Your body hums with it as he steps up close behind you, close enough you can feel his warmth and not his body, nose skimming the bruise he left close to your mating mark. Letting out a tired sigh.

You did just work off a lot of energy, regardless of the half-nappy half-cuddle fucking that just was; It's also left you fucking hungry.

As much as the kitchen has been a place of anxiety for you it really isn’t with Hobi there. There is still that tape line on the floor that guards you off from the stove, sink, and the fridge. Hobi steps out from behind you and goes to the fridge, getting out some of the prepped fruit that Yoongi almost always keeps on hand.

But you keep looking at the kitchen, the pans hanging above the sink, your mixer sitting dusty in the corner. The hanging mugs. Everything.

He brings it to you, setting it down in front of where you sit. instincts making his eyes fever bright. He watches a little too intently as you lift a raspberry to your mouth. Something about watching you eat cools his instincts, making him release a taught breath.

He watches as you lift another piece, a blackberry to your lips and bite down. Almost purring, too afraid of what might slip out if he speaks. He half wants to do it himself and feed you from his fingertips. But that’s a little too embarrassing to consider.

A minute later, after you’ve eaten half a dozen more pieces, he reaches past you, about to get a piece of peach. He doesn't think anything of it, but when he reaches past your face- you flinch.

It happens so quick that he almost doesn’t even catch it. One second your cheek is turned straight and the next your eyes are darting from him to the bowl. Scent souring with fear and memories from Geumjae.

Fuck. (No cuz actually- fuck Geumjae.)

You don’t look at him with fear, you just look at him with a strange sort of sadness in your eyes. Sorry. Like you’re sorry for being scared. hoseok's hand goes tight on the counter.

"I'm sorry."

Hobi sits down. Holds your hands in his, and waits for a second before he speaks. makes his words quiet and gentle because anger at someone dead and gone has no place here.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You have nice hands, warm where they press into his. And he cradles them, your knuckles flexing vaguely in his grasp, gentle but commanding.

“You’ll try not to, you mean."

You smile at him sadly. Hobi’s chest is tight with it. He needs you to know how much he means those words. How much he needs to mean them. But you both know how hard it is to promise that.

"No. I mean I’m not going to hurt you. Ever.” He repeats. You smile at him sadly again. And he knows his brief anger earlier when you touched his sweatshirt- usually such a normal thing for you- didn't escape you at all. But grief and mourning and memory always finds you at the worst times; after first times and on sunny winter afternoons.

The two of you are a mess, bodies teeming with the memories of failed loves, lost and broken. But you can ignore your triggers; such innocuous things as you wearing his sweatshirt and him reaching past your face. You can ignore your memories; the wretched and rotten ones, just for today.

You let the heavy moment pass and look at the other side of the kitchen. Hobi’s chest feels tight with something. Something that he needs to say but can’t just yet. You can only tell someone you love them for the first time once. You don’t get a second chance.

Hobi just wants to get it right.

You’re looking at the kitchen that Yoongi made for you, holding his hand still. using the other to feed yourself more fruit.

(Is there anything more intimate than holding hands with someone? It feels like more than the pads and lines of his fingers are pressed to yours. soul to soul and palm to palm. The future is written out right there but you ignore it. Love line, health line, fate. But the two of you are dedicated to writing your own end. Your love line is exactly the same length as his, not a millimeter longer).

Hoseok’s chest is still all tight. “What are you thinking about?”

“I haven’t made anything in months.” You sigh, sad. “I want to. I used to love baking, I used to-” you break off, sorrow making you quiet.

Hobi’s eyes are fixed on your shoulder. There are freckles there. He’s not sure why he’s never noticed them before or that you’ve got them dotting your back.

Hobi swallows past something in his throat. Pushing you gently from your chair until you're standing next to him. Cupping your waist because now that he's started touching you it's hard to stop. Now that he knows he’s allowed to touch you so casually, so affectionately, he going to keep doing it.

“Go. I’ll watch you, make sure you stay safe.” Because that’s the rule, isn’t it? Not that you can’t be in the kitchen at all, just that you need someone there to keep you safe.

The words feel tight in his throat, not easily said. I love you. He thinks as he watches you move to the mixer with a small but pretty smile that looks like daisies have taken root on your skin, everything sweet and flowering.

I love you. He thinks as he watches you get your cookbook from behind the mixer. I love you he thinks when he watches you place a mug from that morning in the sink. I love you he thinks as you get the sugar, the vanilla, the salt. He has to get up and get the flour for you, unwilling to have your arms strain underneath the heavy container, doting on you just because he can.

Just because he wants to, just because he loves you.

The shadow of what’s left on the bag hits his dark clothes like a ghostly outline when he holds it. The flour is a bit like you; everywhere he touches it leaves an impression. The rainbows from his suncatcher you put in the kitchen shift with the angle of the sunlight, winking out one by one as dusk falls.

He sits at the kitchen island and watches as you hum and flick through your recipe book. Golden hour fades to orange and pink the same way that roses fade.

He’s not sure why he blurts it out, why he asks, “What’s your favorite?”

You look up from your cookbook, everything is set out but still, the recipe is undecided. “What?”

Hobi can not look at you for this, instead looks at the kitchen island and the old butcher block countertop. Fingers toying along the edge where a knife left a gash.

“You always make everyone else’s favorites; Namjoon’s honey cakes, coffee-flavored things for Jin, the vegan stuff for Jungkook you know- but-” his eyes flick up to you in a moment of bravery. “What’s yours? What's your favorite?”

You think for a moment, a kitchen apart, fingers tapping on the countertop and Hobi can’t take his eyes off of you. His body feels a little achy but in that ‘was just fucked good’ sort of way that makes his breath deeper. Quieting some alpha part of him that always wants a little more. A little more scenting, a little more validation, a little more attention.

But everything can wait.

“My favorite thing to eat or my favorite thing to make?”

“Both. Either.” You glance at the clock. Going to the pantry for a second to double-check that you have everything you'll need. “I’ll have to make some of it from scratch but-" you look at him. “Do you have time?”

Hobi nods. “As long as you need.”

Hobi watches as you measure out the flour and sift it. Hobi watches as you wait for the eggs to get to room temperature and fucks with the playlist. His phone will eventually get splashed with coco but- it’s okay.

All of this is okay, all of this is I love you I love you I love you and I don’t know what to do with all of it, can you take someone it, please. I don’t have enough space in my body to hold all of it. Hoseok doesn’t speak for how sheer the impulse is just to blurt it out.

The yellow plastic mixing bowl keeps clattering against the counter as you stir the egg yolks until they froth up and fizz. Pouting you turn your eyes to him. “Can you help?”

Hoseok has to swallow back the words before they slip past. Hopping up a little too quickly. “Yeah of course.”

You don’t tell him what you’re making, let him guess. So many of your recipes need egg whites and vanilla. You let him put it together on his own. Hobi doesn’t peek at your recipe book and spoil the surprise.

Every action, every spoonful of sugar is I love you too, just say it. You don’t talk about the sex you just had and you don’t say I love you to him. You wait for him to say it first. You don’t say a thing besides; “Just a half teaspoon of that; drizzle it a little at a time, or else it clumps together. Good.” Hobi’s cheeks heat with every bit of praise and you have a lot of it for him.

Hobi looks away when you look up from the bowl, oh so carefully folding the batter and egg whites together. So gently that the hiss and bubble of whipped egg yolks disintegrating is hardly audible.

Hobi hasn’t baked since he was a kid; since he got into his head that chocolate chip cookies were totally something that an eight-year-old should be able to make on their own without adult supervision and almost burned his parents’ apartment to the ground. He tells you the story and you laugh.

He can tell that you’re making adjustments as you go. Adding in a bit of cinnamon, piping off the cookies in neat little lines, and then tapping them oh so carefully to get rid of the bubbles.

The stove preheats and then the tray goes in, filling the room with your scent. That cakey baking aroma that has him resting his head back against the cabinets when you sit on the floor and greedily breathing in.

You wait the 30 minutes like that, sitting on the floor between the cabinets and stove. Your feet pressed to his knees and a glass of lemonade between the two of you.

“You really like baking,” he says, and your eyelashes flutter, you must be getting tired. He takes your feet into his lap, using his hand to massage up your calf. Smiling when you sigh.

“Yeah, it makes me feel- I don’t know. I like making the world sweeter, just a little. Even if it’s just my little corner of it. Making things you guys like makes me happy too.”

“You know, you could go to culinary school if you wanted.” Hobi gets a little shy because you hadn’t explicitly told Jin and Namjoon not to tell anyone about your plans or your application (still pending). It will be a few more weeks until you find out, but that change is just on the horizon.

He's already seen Jimin perusing expensive leather bookbags and has overseen a recommendation letter coming from Namjoon’s email. Hobi might have read it for him to double-check because Hobi always notices things the others might gloss over. Jin and Tae had given it proof read too.

You make a noise in your throat, halfway between a hum in approval and a hum in distaste. “I don’t know, it seems like- a lot to do for a hobby.”

Hobi and you are the only two in the pack who wanted to go to college but didn’t. Couldn’t in your case because Geumjae wouldn’t let you and flunked out in his. He gets the lack of clarity in your voice; to go back or not go back. To try again or not try at all and not worry about whether or not you’re enough.

“I already started applying anyway. Namjoon and Jin and Tae put a lot of effort into helping me apply and-” You let out a frustrated sigh.

Hobi shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter. You can change your mind.” There is always time. You tap your toes against his shins and he grabs your feet and you jerk, ticklish. And he almost almost gives in to the urge to tell you he loves you right then and there.

“But could you be happy? Doing this all the time?” You turn, putting your hand over your eyes to peer into the oven and make sure that the ladyfingers are rising properly. “Doing it every day? Would it make you happy?”

You pause, hand on the door before replying in a small voice. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe I could be happy.”

You stand with a crack of your knees, sticking out your hand for Hobi and almost falling into him when he truly uses your hand to help himself up.

“Come on, we’ve got to make the whipped cream next-”

It goes like that, you both talking, and Hobi fucking with the playlist. Thinking three little words and not saying them.

You let the ladyfingers cool for a few minutes while you make the expresso. Dunking them in quickly. Piping out the honey-flavored whipped cream in sticky little dollops. Shaking out the cocoa with a practiced hand.

You make the caramel for the top last. Sugar-burning, glass-like little strands on top for a bit of crunch.

The tiramisu is a delicate creation, the layers perfectly spaced out in just the right ratio of cream to chocolate. You let it sit for a second in the fridge and when you take it out, you cut it into a single perfect little square and put it on a plate for him. Treading over the blue painter’s tape line and lingering by him where he sits.

“Try it.” You ask and he does obediently.

Hobi takes a bite of it, rolling the flavors around his tongue while you watch. You haven’t cut a piece for yourself just yet, but you have a fork. You stand on the other side of the kitchen island and take a bite from the other corner of the pan, humming happily when the taste hits your tongue.

It really is your favorite. You grin at the plate, “I could finish this whole thing in one sitting.”

Hobi takes another bite. It’s really good, the flavors are simple but delicate, each of them identifiable but yet cohesive. He could eat all of it too.

Hoseok swallows and realizes why it's your favorite; It tastes like all of you- like the pack.

The honey whipped cream is Jin and Jungkook, and the chocolate cocoa on top is your mate; dark chocolate like an Oreo cookie. Hobi thinks it might not be normal cocoa. The homemade ladyfingers are soaked through with Namjoon's coffee and the cake itself is a delicate dance of Tae’s cinnamon, Jimin’s vanilla, and your scent too. Buttery and yummy.

He's finished half of what's on his plate before he realizes that you added the crunchy layer on top, the caramel too.

That’s Hobi isn’t it? The Burnt sugar sweetness. He knows that’s not typical but still, you added in anyway. The smell of caramel is thick in the air. Sweet sweet sweet. Hobi always smells the sweetest when he’s falling in love.

The tiramisu tastes like the whole pack. Like love soaked threw. Hobi’s heart and body is full of it.

He thinks this might be his favorite too.

Hobi tries to blink back the wetness, really tries not to cry as he takes another big bite. He gets a little bit of whipped cream on his lip, licking it and sniffling. You pause, a bite hovering between the plate and your mouth before you set down your fork with a clink.

“Oh Hobi”

The space between you is nothing more than air as you quickly head around the kitchen island. You cup both of his cheeks and he sags into the touch, hands instantly going over yours to keep them there. Tears spilling warm and unabated down his cheeks.

Hobi decides right then he is beyond pretending that he doesn’t want it, that he doesn’t want you. Wet cheeks and imploring eyes.

“Oh Hoseok, what’s wrong?”

You’re standing between his legs and your collarbone rests against his cheek. Your hand runs through his hair and his heart pulses hard.

"I didn’t mean to make you cry. If this is because-” you trail off. You don’t say that you shouldn’t have had sex earlier because you can’t find it in yourself to regret this even a little bit. But you are sorry for not doing it in a way that didn't make him cry. If that's why he's crying.

“No it’s not that. I just-" Hoseok can hardly speak his mouth is so full of love that it bursts from him before he has a chance to think it through. Sobbing a little as he says it;

"I'm crying because I love you and I don’t know how to tell you.”

Hobi stutters and your hands on his cheeks go firm for a second before they relax. “I love you; I love being around you, I love that you're my best friend and that i get to love you too. I love living in this house with you. I’m crying because for the first time I get it-”

He can’t stop the confession now that it's started, and if he'd just open his eyes he'd get to see your smile but they're screwed shut tight.

“I get it, I get why once Yoongi met you, he couldn’t leave. I understand why he brought you back to us. But-” he hiccups and you giggle a little at the sound. His eyes shoot open and he realizes that you're crying too- that you haven't stepped away. You wipe away his tears with your thumbs and grin down at him.

“I'm so fucking afraid too- I can’t help but feel like the way we started just- fucked everything up. I fucked everything up back then by being jealous. I look at you and I’m scared I’ll fuck this up.”

You hold his face in your hands and think; I will be gentle with you, I will be gentle with you even if it kills me. You have never loved someone broken like you, and you know how easy it is to make a wrong step. But you’re sure when you say the words anyway.

“You won’t.”

“But-” you kiss his hands, knuckles, fingertips. His forehead, his lips Everything. Your eyes are focused and Hobi can’t look away.

“You won’t, you promised not to hurt me and you won’t.”

He falls silent, and you pull him in close. His lips still tingle from your kiss and you kiss him again, long and lingering, hard with the force of your conviction. It tastes like tiramisu.

When you break apart, Hoseok rests his ear on your heart and listens.

You should say I love you back, you really should return the words. But you think there will be other moments to say them. You'll say it when you wake up with him tomorrow morning, you'll say it when you fall asleep tonight curled close to him. There will be more time to say them- during a late-night drives when you look over at him in the dark. There are always going to be more times to say it and you’ll say it and mean it every time.

Unfortunately, life isn't so neat and tidy.

You wipe his cheeks and he wipes yours and you both giggle, leaning into each other. You get him a tissue for his nose and start laughing all over again. Being with Hobi will always be like this, half your lover and half your best friend.

“Do you want to go on a drive later, only,” you wipe tears from your own eyes, “want to take the others this time?”

He smiles, “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

He tries to pull you in for another kiss but you feed him a bite of tiramisu instead and it gets half on his cheek, “finish your cake alpha,” you command, and Hobi is perilous to disobey. the next bite you take ends up on your cheek too because he tickles you, and you blush when he leans forward to lick it off your cheek. All giggly and happy and close. You sat practically on the edge of the counter. Noodle meows and laps up some of it from the floor.

You don’t need to say I love you back, you already have. Hobi can taste it on the edge of every bite.

You cut him another piece and share it this time, and he can't stop looking at you, can't stop smiling.

You smile around a mouthful, "i'm gonna tear up that train ticket."

"Don't you fucking dare. We've gotta like- put it in a scrap book or something."

You clean up the tiramisu, thinking of what might happen when the pack gets back, thinking of how things will go now that you’ve settled this. They’ll be happy; all of you all together finally. This last piece of your little family finally falling into place.

Maybe it will go like this:

Maybe when the pack gets home, there will not just be tiramisu on the counter. Maybe there will be gluten-free lemon bars and honey cakes. Chocolate ginger cookies dusted with powdered sugar and freshly baked bread with cheese and garlic. Little personal cheesecakes that you made in a muffin tin dotted with jam preserve because now that you’ve started to bake again there might not be anything to stop you.

You already feel the urge in your hands, the urge to make things. You think it might have been learned from Yoongi.

Maybe they’ll come home with pizza, unsure if a party and alcohol is really the proper way to go about celebrating, but the cake from the bakery that Tae will buy as a joke, will have flowery lettering and “congrats for losing your Hobi-ginity"

It will make you laugh until your lungs ache like the fireworks have gone off. Will make him blush and rub the back of his neck in shyness.

When they come home there might be a few sly comments but the pack knows when to tease and when not to. Maybe Namjoon will take a hearty sniff at Hoseok’s throat, dragging it up and down the nape of his neck, huffing happily. (Namjoon has always been a little bit possessive of Hoseok the same way Jin has always been possessive of you, but that's pack alpha's for you).

Tae will tuck your hair behind your ears to get a better look at the mark he left on your throat, manicured fingers gently stroking over it. and Yoongi will shoot him a challenging look and drawl, "really daisy? is this really something you wanna start?" all playful. the way yoongi only gets when he's really really happy.

And when Jin gets home, Maybe he’ll drag you over his lap with some squirming because there is no avoiding this hole check. Not when Jin and the others have been waiting.

Under the hungry eyes of the rest of the pack, you would still squirm. Your mate watching and grinning as he nibbles a piece of pizza and just watches as Jin pulls your sleep shorts down to your knees. Leaving them there to pin your thighs together. Hand against the small of your back to keep you still.

Of course, the pack omega has to look after the two of you and make sure the lowest on the hierarchy is being safe without a stronger presence nearby. But your entrance is pink fucked warm, not red and inflamed. Hoseok’s knot is the perfect thing to warm you up, and Jin tugs his sweatshirt over your hips to keep you warm as he examines you.

Fingers drag your entrance apart to show the others how good hobi did. Prompting them to touch and feel for themselves, all of their fingers teasing at your entrance and all of them touching you. Tae and Jungkook holding your thighs, Jimin and Namjoon resting their hands on your ass to help jin hold you open better and yoongi prodding to feel-

They'd want to see his cum slip out, forced from your hole by your needy clench. Of course, they'd just fuck it back inside because not a drop can go to waste. one set of fingers and then another, jungkook leaning down to taste.

Jin’s eyes would be all dark eyes and honey tones, looking hoseok up and down, cheeks as red as the sweatshirt you wear. His praise makes Hobi feel just a little bit too proud for his own good.

Hobi would probably get a knot-check for that, because if the alpha has something to be proud of then surely the others need to check his ego (and only in the way that hobi likes).

The alphas would scuffle with him a little, wrestling to settle him. Hobi's instincts are still fever bright and he needs to be put in his place. To feel the pack for what they are; very necessary safety bumpers.

He'd go so easily after a few nips- Jimin would help pull his pants down so Namjoon could get his big hands around him, fingers teasing at the red skin around his base and making Hobi growl and gasp. Pausing to cup lower and make sure Hoseok's empty, that he didn't hold back breeding you. Tae would tutt and make him open his mouth, her finger teasing along his teeth just for shits and giggles. Just to make him groan.

Nothing makes an alpha more proud than getting to show off his teeth.

Jin would smile at the display, and croon. “Good alpha.”

Maybe Jin will pat your pussy lips softly before pulling your pants up, making you flinch and then relax and jungkook would bend down to give Hoseok's knot a little kiss before standing.

The whole thing would take maybe 5 minutes but it would leave the whole pack ravenous for more. The final evidence of this finally happening; all of you together and not fragmented.

As you should be, together.

Maybe later, after treats and pizza, you'll all get to go to the beach like Hobi promised. Two separate cars. And Namjoon might let Hoseok and Jimin do donuts in the empty parking lot without too much fuss. The smell of tires and gasoline ripping.

Jungkook whooping and Yoongi watching on with his grin, Jin in the back seat with you going “Oh- oh hope- slow down” looking a little green. But terrorizing the pack omega is kind of your job.

It’s cold and late at night but you’ll tear out across the sand. Running to the shore. Tossing your shoes into the dark and toeing into the waves. Yelling happy.

You and Hobi will try and throw Yoongi into the water and then the other alphas will actually succeed in throwing Namjoon, pushing him until he inevitably tumbles into the seafoam. All 7 of you will try and wrangle Jungkook into the same wet fate and fail.

Jin will tuck Namjoon’s wet hair back behind his ear and grin at him, his grin saying the words they don’t need to. Kisses tases like secrets and salt but that much has not changed. Might never change when it comes to the eight of you. All the secrets in the world couldn’t keep you apart.

You’ll get zoomy in the way that dogs get in wide-open spaces. You’ll run. Your feet slapping against the sand, tossing spray into the air as high as your laughter, chasing after each other. A bunch of barefoot kids in too-big bodies and sand between your toes. Hands clasped tight in each other’s so that you won’t let go. You won’t ever let go now that you've found them.

For once you'll be absent of all the things that drag you down. Lighter than the warm air that billows over the sea. Mouths that store special secret salty smiles for the better. Damp fingers that curl against warm wrists. holding onto each other tight even though you’re running and running-

Running.

Maybe.

But that’s not what happens. Instead, what happens is this;

You are sitting at the kitchen counter when Hobi gets a text. It’s from Jungkook asking about the pizza types that you’d want and

Yoongi’s left his phone, he says with a little 👀 emoji. But he won’t truly tease the both of you until he gets home. Of course Yoongi was too distracted by you and Hobi post coitous to grab it from the other room.

you to to the pantry to put away the flour and this close- you can hear another phone ring from the bathroom. It's it yours? Only No, it's not your phone sitting on the counter, but Yoongi’s. Lighting up with Jin’s contact information.

JinJinJin: 5 missed calls.

It's so like your mate to leave his phone in such a random place. You smile as you pick up.

Jin is already talking a mile a minute. Fear and panic make his words come quick and desperate.

“Yoongi- why the fuck didn't you pick up" You don't have time to respond. Don't have time to let him know it's not your mate but you that picked up the phone.

"I don’t know how the fuck it happened, I don’t know- but-“ he’s almost shouting over the phone, such raw panic in his voice that it has your body going frozen.

Jin lets out a broken sobbing breath.

"I shot Minnie.”

~-~

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Notes:

I ended up editing out a good portion of Hoseok ’s inner monologue at the begining, because I realized that at that point in time with the other pack he wouldn’t have been thinking stuff about how terrible it was because it wasn’t terrible yet. i probably should have even edited it fluffier if we're being honest. i think that would have been more unsettling.

The line where she says “One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.” Is a little hard to explain, she’s not thinking about Yoongi in that moment but the person she associates the most with love is Yoongi so- yeah it made sense. I feel like this line might make people go a little like “what??”

I swear if you guys didn’t cry a little at the ‘It doesn’t hurt at all.’ Parts I’m not doing this right because I was SOBBING.

Listen, I almost edited out the line where he calls her pussy an inside joke so many times- but for me- when I was younger I always wanted to be a part of inside jokes because like- if you are that means you’ve got history with someone- Hoseok is thinking this because until this moment- he hasn’t been able to be apart of something that the rest of the pack had understood.

When Hoseok was leaving a hickey over her mating mark it’s his way of saying “this is mine too 😠” to Yoongi,

Honestly??? Why is Hobi so feral in this like- he’s a /little/ unhinged from how much he wants her and tbh it’s fair. Look away if you don’t wanna read him going APESHIT for her.

ALSO- I’m just imagining him on the walk with jungkook and Tae, cheeks slowly pinking up because he can feel that they’re having sex down the mating bond, maybe getting hard and the others noticing, both of them plastering themselves along his side and teasing him with words like “do you think he’s making her all wet and messy hyung? Do you think she’s gonna cream around his cock like she creams around yours?” and Yoongi just- endlessly suffering around the two horndogs that are Tae on estrogen and jungkook on a regular day.

The moment where they’re holding hands and it’s talking about palmistry is a refrence to noah kahan’s song everywhere everything and the line “it’s been a long year, in all of our books pages dog eared, we write out the ends on our palms dear, and forget to read.”

The worst worst worst part about this chapter is that I don’t??? have a fucking recipe for the tiramisu?? Like I’ve made it before but I’ve never made honey flavored whipped cream or put caramel on top 🥺 maybe I’ll test it out one dayand update this chapter

Okay so the ‘flash into the improbable future at the end is a little too horny for the end of smutt but I couldn’t just /not/ put it in there because you know how I love a good hole check scene.

do you hate me because of this cliffhanger? even i have to say its a little unforgivable.

please be patient for next chapter because i do not have A SINGLE fucking word written for it. like nada, we're starting from scratch come monday.

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Hobi's sex Playlist (jk isn't not a sex playlist)

Dominic fike- Mama's boy (hobis' flashback)

Mitski – my love mine all mine. (yoongi telling him to be good)

Lana del ray – chemtrails over the country club. (the sex)

Olivia Rodrigo – can’t catch me now (when they're both triggered from the respective abusive relationships)

Tom o’dell – black Friday. (Juz cuz)

[squinch-depraved]

priest schlatt I beg

we're not gonna talk about how long this took me to get to

happy national clergy appreciation day (in the u.s.) !! sorry if this sucks i was raised southern baptist and even then i sucked at christianity there's a reason i practice witchcraft now lol

hanging your head low as you ducked into the confessional wouldn't save you. sure, there was no one around to see you, but knowing that god had witnessed what you had done was reason enough to try and hide from the world as much as you could. but still you tucked yourself away into the corner of the booth, clutching your purse in your trembling hands.

religion was a something of a sore spot for you; growing up in a hyper-christian family was one way to ensure you didn't feel comfortable in a house of worship. you had always viewed god as an inevitable outcome, a fact that awaited you whenever you happened to reach the end of your journey here on earth. once you graduated high school and locked yourself into a four year program at a catholic college one state over, you came to realize that the reason you couldn't stand your religion wasn't because of overbearing relatives. no, it was the very idea of god himself. you found him sadistic, an egotistical prick who had nothing better to do than let horrible things happen to his creations. maybe it was true that most of the teachings you had heard were lost on you, that you didn't even make an effort to understand the lessons passed down for thousands of years. but so what? nobody had ever made an effort to understand you or what you were going through, why should you waste your energy extending that courtesy to a church that obviously didn't care about you?

but you know who did make you feel understood? the guys you had dated in the three years since you arrived at this prison. at least, for a few weeks, in the beginning. the first one was fine. he was the one who convinced you virginity was an outdated concept- which you still agreed with to this day, you decided. he was surprisingly "woke" about the whole religion thing, which was what drew you to him in the first place.

"my parents made me study here too," he sympathized. "i totally wish i could've gone on a mission trip instead of getting a degree. like, college will be here in a few years! those impoverished people might not, y'know? i just feel like god is totally calling me to go serve. like, 'troy, man, go feed those guys! tell them how cool i am!'" he stopped tossing a miniature foam basketball against your bedroom wall for a moment to look at you.

you smiled weakly at his sentiments and glanced up from your laptop to nod. "totally, troy."

turns out, (unsurprisingly) troy was a fucking douche. he stayed around just long enough to get into your pants a couple times, but then you caught him with the girl who lived in the dorm across from you, so he had to go. nobody ever found out who stole his clothes from the men's showers, but the videos of him streaking down the hallways while he ran to his room were sent around campus for months after that.

guys two and three were more painful than troy; you had actually grown attached to them. guy two lasted almost a year, and three was only a few months, but he felt special. and the half dozen guys you slept with while trying to get over them just added to the tally of sins you were keeping subconsciously.

so when your grades started to slip from depression in the winter of your junior year, and your counselor called you to her office for an appointment, it was no surprise that her words got under your skin as easily as they did. how could they not? getting students to go to church was part of her job. she was concerned that your grades were slipping because she hadn't seen you at mass in a long time, and the absence of the lord will do that to a young girl, you know.

so later that night, after drinking by yourself at a bar a few miles from the school, you stumbled into the church on campus and slunk into the confessional. realizing that the wooden box was incredibly uncomfortable, you winced and pulled off your heels, rubbing your feet gently as you waited to be listened to.

you shrieked quietly when a small lattice window on the wall next to you slid open. "oh, fuck... sorry! um, it's my turn, right?... yeah, i think so. okay, so, um. bless me father for i have... sinned? it's been, like," you paused as you counted back the time on your fingers. "almost two years since my last confession. oh, jeez, that makes me sound awful." you were hiccupping as you rambled, and you could have sworn you heard the faintest exhale of amusement if you weren't plastered.

"whatever, it's too late to stop now," you sighed, crossing your legs. "i let some guys sleep with me and now i'm all unpure and like. i'm supposed to show up here a couple times every week now but i don't wanna, i don't care enough about this whole god thing to waste the rest of my college life becoming a nun. i'm already worried i wasted three years coming here instead of a school where i could have felt like myself," you trailed off.

it was quiet for a moment before a gruff voice with a new york accent asked, "how many guys?"

you snorted. "9, i think," you said with a smirk, rolling your eyes.

the man on the other side of the panel felt his face heat up as he mumbled, "jesus." you couldn't hold in your laugh at how absurd this was. this was what you deserved for coming to confess at 2 in the morning.

"i know it's been a while since i've been here and all, but i'm pretty sure that's not what you're supposed to say," you giggled.

a chuckle was heard before he answered, "sorry. you're right, it's not. tell me more, what led you to sleeping with them?" at least now he was trying.

the two of you talked for about an hour, until it no longer felt like a confession and you were sure you had fallen for this priest you couldn't even see. eventually, he tried to dismiss you without giving you your penance, but something in your gut drove you to bring it up yourself.

he stepped out of the booth first, and you hesitated for a second before following him, freezing when you saw what he looked like. tall, scary, with gorgeous brown eyes framed by aviator glasses and fluffy chops adorning his cheeks. by some miracle, he also felt immobilized by his view of you hopping out of the wooden compartment- dress disheveled, fishnets ripped, heels in one hand and your purse slung over one shoulder. you were his worst nightmare, a temptation he simply could not resist. god had just placed a vulnerable young lamb like you in his midst; who was he to deny himself of the simple pleasures his lord had provided for him?

"father? father, my penance," you waved your hand in front of his face (after a bit of trying to get his attention), which had just gone dark. his eyes now looked hungry and cold.

"hmm?" he blinked and tilted his head towards you slightly. "oh. uhm," he let out a deep exhale, as if contemplating something. "y-y'know what? just come with me," he spoke gently, taking your hand and leading you to a back room with some spare furniture scattered about.

a part of you knew what was coming, and a different part of you never could have guessed the situation you were about to find yourself in. once you were alone in the room together, he pulled you close and pressed you against a wall, letting his hot breath waft over your neck as he bent down to whisper in your ear.

"god's telling me we should make it 10 men you've been with," he murmured, voice velvet smooth as it coated your eardrums. "so you can say at least one of them was a real man of the lord, hmm, doll?"

your breath, caught in your throat, sped up as he slowly, gently, tenderly took your wrists in one of his hands, bringing them to rest above your head. "father..."

"schlatt. my name's schlatt. but that's just a courtesy, hm? stick to callin' me father." you felt him smirk against your skin as he sunk his teeth into the flesh of your neck, drawing out a frantic moan from you.

"careful with your noises, angel, there's two other guys here tonight, and if we get caught, i'm gonna have to share you," schlatt warned. he used his other free hand to pull down the top of your dress, smiling greedily at the sight of your exposed breasts. "no bra?"

"i-it didn't go with the outfit," you tried to defend yourself, but he just shushed you and fondled your chest lovingly, like he really was just appreciating one of god's creations. pathetic noises spilled from your lips as you watched him admire you, a hypnotized look on your face.

"you're so beautiful, doll. wha's your name?" he asked, glancing up at your face to meet your gaze.

you stammered out your response and he repeated it, running over the name in his mind.

"pretty," he said simply. "i'm gonna make you feel good now, okay?" it was more of a statement than a question, and you nodded with a gulp as he knelt down and slid his head under your dress. you felt your pupils dilate as you leaned your head back against the wall and let your eyes fall closed. schlatt ripped a bigger hole into your fishnets and pulled your skimpy panties to the side, licking a long stripe up your folds and tracing circles with his tongue on your clit. it was hard to keep your whorish noises contained, but clamping your hand over your mouth did a good enough job.

he ate you until you were frantically scratching at his head through the fabric of your dress as you came all over his face, sobbing from how good you felt. you didn't even know it was possible to feel this euphoric, but here this priest was to show you how. once he was satisfied, he pulled away from your cunt and rose to tower over you again. he reached into his robes and opened them enough so that his crotch was visible. you watched as he pulled out his length, stunned at the size of it, and let him pick you up and position you around his waist.

"father, i'm scared, i don't know if it's gonna fit," you admitted guiltily. schlatt locked eyes with you while he replied.

"it's okay to be scared. but you have to do it anyways." with that, he slid into you, stretching you out more than you ever had been before. you bit onto him in an effort to keep quiet; his robes did a good job of muffling the sound. after a generous amount of time to let you get used to him, he started moving.

he was gentle at first, but gradually got rougher and rougher. there wasn't a moment where he wasn't focused on making you feel good. his eyes pierced through you as he rammed into you at a relentless pace, and the attention he was giving you didn't make you feel objectified like it did when the other guys fucked you. it made you feel divine, ethereal almost.

grunts and pants, along with the occasional squeal, were all that could be heard as he rolled his hips into you time and time again. he coaxed another orgasm out of you just with his cock, and once he felt like he had pleasured you enough, he sped up, now thrusting at a frenzied pace.

"when i tell you, you're gonna get on your knees and take me in your mouth, okay angel?" he instructed, out of breath. you nodded, eager to please.

"yes, father," you gasped as he reached deeper and deeper inside you with every thrust. schlatt's eyes rolled back slightly at the title and he went impossibly faster for a few seconds before speaking.

"n-now! now!" he ordered desperately. he set you down hurriedly and you slammed down onto your knees to take him in your mouth, letting him burrow deep into your throat before he finished with a loud groan and grabbed your hair roughly.

he remained in your throat for a moment while he caught his breath, sliding out once his chest had stopped heaving.

"there's your penance, doll. i better see you here for a 2 a.m. confession next monday as well, yeah? i think that's what the lord's callin' me to do," schlatt said as he buttoned his robes. you straightened your clothes as much as you could and looked up at him sheepishly.

"looking forward to it. but, uh, is there a back door i could leave through? because i do not want to walk through the church like this." you gestured to your outfit, tattered and wrinkled, and winced.

he chuckled and nodded. "yeah, i'll show you to it. maybe it could be our secret entrance," he joked.

"oh, of course. i'll knock three times whenever i need to be let in," you retort with a grin.

maybe coming to church wouldn't be so bad, after all.

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: Several sets of drawings from the TUA Paranatural au, drawn in a style resembling Paranatural's.

The first are two drawings ofLila as an adult; one in casual clothes and short partially bleached hair from season one; and the other in a commission-style suit with two long braids.

The second is a very sketchy comic. Klaus asks, "You're MARRIED??? To a WOMAN?" and then continues, "Wait Five, are you straight??" Five, looking disgruntled, replies, "Oh my fucking god Klaus." Later, Five lies on the floor and googles "Are you still straight if your wife is a centipede."

The third is a pair of drawings of the Handler harassing Five; the first ten years before the second. In the first, Five is a teenager and the Handler has long hair and is wearing a suit. She is pinching his cheek. In the second, Five is an adult and the Handler now has short hair and is wearing a gown. She is booping his nose.

The last is a set of drawings of @sharkneto's oc's from his series Holding It Together; Sarah, Amanda, and Rob. Sarah is checking her phone, Amanda is holding a piece of chalk, and Rob looks spooked and is saying "...Ghosts?" End ID.]

i call this the Paranatural Au: Dubiously Canonical Edition

aka over the course of drawing this au ive accumulated stuff that isnt super canonical, or is out of date, or is just. too dumb. to really post on its own, so i decided to toss them all together in one go!

the ID is long so the context is going under the cut

the adult lila designs are from when i wasn't sure what exactly i was going to do with her, whether she would be a kid or an adult. Now that i've decided she's twelve like most of the rest of the cast, this design is noncanonical but i do still think it was fun!

five being harassed by the handler isnt *precisely* noncanonical, but in the absence of the crazy assassin skills/wanting to kill her combo, she probably wouldn't be as fixated on him. Like, thats not a hyper successful assassin she can match wits with, thats a teenager. who gives a shit about teenagers.

The idea behind her outfits is that ten years ago the handler wasn't as high up so she had to wear a suit jacket like everyone else, but now that shes been promoted a few times she can wear whatever she wants.

the comic is a really stupid idea i had the other day that i decided to make into reality because i have infinite power to make any image i want. it's really dumb tho. also ftr my five is always aroace, but if he weren't aroace then being attracted to a sapient centipede monster with no human features is. Not straight. its not gay or bi tho either it's.... Something Else Other Than That.

also, i drew sharkneto's ocs because, once again, i have infinite power to make any image a reality. i havent decided yet if theyre canon, but if they are, then amanda teaches physics (i guess this is a middle school? so actually shes probably just a general science teacher lmao. but her year focuses on physics), sarah is a professor at a nearby college, and rob is the school counselor. (sorry guys yall are demoted, but its just because this is effectively a middle school au). also, none of them can see ghosts but are aware they exist, although i did kick around the idea of one of them developing that ability later (not rob). unless sharkneto has notes about all that lol

[lunas-side-anime-blog]

aot veteran/104 corp icks bc im back on my bullshit

someone requested AOT veteran icks, they didn't specify nsfw or not so I did both and also added sasha connie and jean bc i luv them:) feel free to message/inbox with requests!

(levi, erwin, hange, jean, sasha and connie)

Levi

will visit ur place and organize things without you asking. he'd just be like "ur welcome, now your kitchen makes sense" and ur like sir, I don't know where anything is now??? also he'd def the type to proclaim he's better than you for only getting two hours of sleep when you got four. honestly so many icks come to mind for this one, imma limit it to those two for now (stay tuned lol)

nsfw: tries to be rough with you but forgets his own strength. will try to throw you on the bed, but he does it too hard so you completely miss the bed and fall on the other side of it and he's just standing there like "🧍🏻...my bad."

Erwin

you cannot convince me this man doesn't wear water shoes at the pool. you guys say you want a dilf until you actually get one bc this is the type of shit it entails^^

nsfw: erwin cannot dirty talk for shit. im srry but if you're a lil kinky this isn't the man for you. try to call him daddy and he'd be like "we don't have kids?" and you explain the kink to him and he'd just say, "have you considered therapy?🤨" now he's concerned, boner gone, you feel called out, just go to sleep tbh

Hange

they're def a firm believer in natural deodorant and won't take the graceful hints that it's not working. prob wouldn't chill w them on a hot day is all i'm saying

nsfw: feel like they'd be really good in bed tbh like i'm struggling to think of an ick. hange has big dick energy, weirdos just do it better idk. i think maybe hange would try to spit in your mouth (they a freak) and they have so much and its thick and globby like the back of the throat type spit, your gonna choke bro im gagging as a i type-

Jean

bring back toxic masculinity because Jean's hair care routine is so good to the point he'll call out your split ends, i just know it

nsfw: a fucking chatterbox like his homies know everything. you've walked in on him telling connie in extreme detail how he had you in a full nelson last night while you screamed bloody murder and he doesn't see why ur mad. "babe, if anything i'm bragging about you 😏" fucking idiot istg. also kinda gross but I think he's the type to keep sniffing his fingers after fingering you like well into the next day EWW

Sasha

obvi she can't share for shit so I think she'd be an annoying person to eat out with. like yk when you're with your friends and only one person puts their card down so the rest can Venmo them? I think you can ask her to Venmo 20 and she'd send 15 and say something like "oh I didn't eat as many fries" but she fr did. never puts her card down either so believe it or not? jail.

nsfw: will literally be on her phone mid-sex with you. feel like she'd be really into the subway surfer vids and yeah, you go down on her and look up and she brought her own entertainment? ipad child behavior

Connie

i think he'd say "we" when talking about his fave sports team as if he contributed. like, "really connie, you helped win the superbowl? did you score a touchdown?" grow tf up

nsfw: insane bush on this one, i feel like he doesn't groom for shit and whatever, that's your choice! but I also feel like college-aged modern connie would talk shit about women who weren't bald down there and won't eat it unless it is. HYPOCRITE!! I think when he gets to his mid-twenties tho he'd mature (sasha beat his ass)

[partyanimal167]

I’ve just been watching Bleach and in the credits to ep 118, Grimmjow gets called a Professor 👀 and now I can’t stop thinking about it…

So how about an AU where Grimmjow is a professor? Sorry if that’s too vague and random 😅

Oh no, that's not too vague. Thanks so much for suggesting. I always laugh thinking about certain characters being "responsible" adults esp when it comes to working with other people lol. I was so close to making Grimmjow a culinary professor, but it'd be too easy lol. I hope you like this!

CW: sfw, college au, gn! reader, cussing (bc let's be fr now), slight flirting near the end

There were so many signs that this class was going to be...not normal. However, when you gleamed through the professor reviews there wasn't anything out of the ordinary...well you didn't read them all. Mistake number one.

Mistake number two was not reading the syllabus (who does though) and showing up to class when it started--10am. There were a few people, but after waiting fifteen minutes, not even half the class was there and neither was the professor. After another fifteen minutes, you were starting to get a bit antsy and confused, but soon the rest of the class filled in. Then one guy came in with ripped jeans, a white jacket, shades, and a Monster in hand.

Damn, this guy looks rough. I bet he was partying too hard with the new semester starting. You jumped when a bag slammed on the teacher's desk. You tilted your head as the man's shades came off, and you were met with blue-as-hell eyes and a grumpy expression.

It seems you weren't the only one confused.

"Hey! Class was supposed to start at 10! Why is the professor late?" one guy yelled from his seat. A few other students mumbled in agreement.

"Oi, why the hell are you yelling?! Too fucking early in the morning," the man barked back. You could feel his voice rumble in your chest. It sounded as if he had just woken up not too long ago either. The man went over to his seat and kicked his feet on the desk. He popped open his energy drink and went on. "Literally on the first page of your syllabus it says that class starts at 10:30 because 10 is too fucking early and I like my sleep. It ain't my fault the dean wouldn't give me a noon class, tch."

You couldn't believe your ears. This guy can't be serious. This is my literature professor? You didn't like to make assumptions about people, but the guy looked to be around everyone else's age and even if he did teach a class, with his attitude you'd think it'd be something...not like literature.

"Anyway, the name's Grimmjow. I don't really care if you call me Professors. That's your business. This is Global Literature of the 21st Century. I hate repeating myself so listen the first time, and I don't give out extra credit unless you drop off a 12-pack of these first." the man went on tapping the can.

You sunk it your seat a little. What the hell did I sign up for?

~~~

After those first couple of weeks, you decided that you would do your absolute best in that class and avoid being a nuisance to that grumpy professor. Grimmjow definitely had a reputation on campus. Many students had a love-hate relationship with him--grateful for the extra time to sleep in, no bullshit, and the somehow rowdy yet engaging teaching. Definitely hate though for the teasing, cussing, yelling, and him being ready to chew out whatever dumb ass he picked that day.

So it certainly wasn't your best moment when the man practically ordered that you came to his office hours later that day.

You slowly opened the door to his office and met with the rather odd scene of your professor with reader's on his nose going over papers. For a moment, he looked really peaceful and actually almost professional.

"Oh wow, you actually fucking showed up."

And moment over.

You stopped yourself from messing with your elbows and nodded. "Uh yeah what's up, Grimm?" you immediately winced on the inside unsure of how the man would react to the unofficial nickname. But he didn't say anything.

He pointed at the chair, and you immediately sat. He rubbed his face and pushed the glasses off his head. "Look, I'll make this quick. Tell that idiot Jackson to stop stealing whole paragraphs from your papers or I'll break his arm."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

There was that annoyed look again. "I'm not stupid. The guy has been copying sentences and paragraphs and piecing them together as his own work. He's already going to get in trouble, of course. But seriously, your work always seems to be included. Is he your idiot boyfriend or somethin'?"

The mention of a boyfriend flustered you a little even though you wouldn't dare consider that particular classmate. "Oh no uh- I'm single, and I kinda don't know how he's getting my assignments. I mean we do work together in the library but-,"

The man cut you off and waved his hand. "Okay, okay whatever. Just be mindful of where you're leaving your shit I guess."

You nodded then paused for a moment. "So I'm not in trouble?" You couldn't deny that being in front of the man made you nervous.

"Tch, for what? You're like one of my best students." Grimmjow easily said. "I actually think you know how to read a book and write. Some of these fools are using ai bots as if I can't tell." That was as close to compliment as you ever heard the man say. His face softened for a moment before he grinned meanly. "Well, I will give you some advice."

You weren't sure what it'd be, but you brightened up at the offer. "Sure!"

Grimmjow flicked your forehead before leaning back into his chair. "I got a rule that I don't go dating students, so you better fix how you keep eye-fucking me before I make it a problem." he snickered.

"What! I don'-,"

"Get out."

You squeaked before hightailing it out of the office--face warm and heart racing.

One thing you did know for sure though, you were certainly ready to see what type of problem your professor would give you.

~~~

Grimmjow! I want more of you lol. Thanks for reading! I'll be here if anyone has any thoughts, prayers, or ideas haha

[kailoraurelius]

Dr Mitchell and Sheila are invited to the family dinner in AIAOY while in SG it took Beca a longer time until Chloe forced her to see him and is still a bit awkward between them. Beca did say her dad left when she's 11 but she wasn't all that sad, I'm just curious does having a huge loving group of relatives and friends lead to the earlier reconciliation? I would like to hear more about your psychological thoughts you put in your stories

Okay, I been excited all day to get off work so I could dive into this ask lol! First off, thank you so much for it, cause I love to nerd out about this stuff. Second, absolutely yes, the huge support system changed how I wrote them in this one! Strap in, I'm about to go off and write a fuckin' essay.

In the movie, it's canon (as far as I know) that Beca is an only child who favors her mother over her father, because she sees him as someone that abandoned them. This is a fundamental characteristic of her character. It's why she's so rude to him in the beginning and, even though she claims she just wants to get to LA and make music, it's very obviously a contributing factor to why she's so against college. Seeing as she later proceeds to stay in school and have an amazing time that she is very proud of, it's easy to assume college was never the actual issue. Sure, she didn't think it was the future she wanted, but she KNEW it was the future her dad wanted for her and she hated that.

It became a core tenet of her character: "You don't walk away from family." She says this to the Bellas in PP3 while she's explaining that she's turning down the very thing she's always said she's wanted: to make music. Why? Because it wouldn't be with them. Because making music is NOT her truest, deepest want. She wants a family. People she loves and trusts to have her back. The thing her father was supposed to be to her. (And I think he is, this is not a reflection of my thoughts on his character, because I love him, but we'll get into that in a bit. This is just what I think Beca feels.)

That's why it's so interesting that she does walk away from the Bellas in the first movie. She does EXACTLY what she hated that her father did. She tried to make it work, it didn't go well, and she dipped. And this, obviously, is why she goes to her father to talk it out. Yes, she's sorta pushed away Jesse at this point and she doesn't have anyone else around to talk to, but I think some part of her also knows her dad will understand. If you watch the deleted/extended scene of that conversation at her dad's house, he tells her, "Look, Bec, the day I left you was the saddest day of my life. I should have... I'm still trying to make it up to you." And THAT is where I took inspo from for AIAOY.

In Stained Glass, their dynamic is incredibly different from the movie. Beca's mother has passed and there's this whole thing about how strained the relationship was with her father. "For her, family time was quiet dinners with her mother in a hospital room and even quieter dinners with her father at home. And when they were together, it was like sitting around a time bomb with the timer covered." So when I wrote Dr. Mitchell and Beca in that piece, I did it with the constant knowledge that they both blame him. She blames him for not emotionally being there for her when she needed him and he blames himself for being too heartbroken to be able to take care of her or her mother the way he wanted to. They both just shut down.

And that anger and guilt and silent hope that the other person would fix things created this huge rift between them, to the point where they both sorta iced each other out because that was easier, less terrifying, than trying to jump the gap. Beca moved away, pushed all of her old life into the back of her mind, even the good parts like Jesse. And her dad eventually moved on, started a new family. In my head, that guilt from before ate at him all the time and made him a better father and husband that time around, because he was desperate to not have a repeat performance.

That's why Beca is so much more prickly in SG. In fact, (slight spoilers for Teach Me Something) when you see more of her back when Stacie first meets her, she's kind of a total bitch lol. She isn't interested in letting people in, she takes care of herself and that's that.

But then Stacie worms her way in by being persistent. And that softens her enough that Chloe is able to get in too. Then Emily. Then the rest of them lol. And, eventually, that softens Beca enough that she lets her dad back in too.

When Beca's getting ready for her wedding and thinking about how she's glad Chloe kinda forced her and Dr. Mitchell back together, there's a moment where she realizes, "She forgot he was kinda funny." They've been so distant from each other for so long and they've purposely shut out all the good things because it hurt too much. So, at that point, they're sort of relearning each other. The new people they've become, the old people they still were. While also trying to reconcile that they both made mistakes in the past. So yeah, it's awkward. But it's just the start for them in that story. A new start.

In AIAOY, (I'll try to be careful of big spoilers lol) it's already past that point. When Chloe first meets Beca in college, it's probably the closest it would have been to their dynamic in SG.

In this one, Beca's mother is alive and she has this huge support system of Stacie's family, her cousins, her other friends later on. So when I was writing them here, I thought a lot about that. In SG (and in the movie, maybe) I feel like Beca didn't believe in permanence. Her mother died, her father faded away, she shoved everything else away and, more importantly, it went. (Jesse was a good friend to her and he respected that she didn't want him around, but that wasn't probably best for her in the long run.)

But in AIAOY, Beca is surrounded by permanence. Yes, her dad left and she was righteously angry at him, but then was able to realize it was his loss. Her mother was still there and still just as wild and loving. The rest of her family was still all around her, unchanged. Stacie and Amy were at her side always.

So, of course, when Chloe came along and was like, "I'm staying in your life forever, thanks", Beca believes her. And lets her in much easier than she did in SG or the movie. Because she's spent her whole life surrounded by people that have softened all those hard edges we see in canon. So this Beca is softer, more prone to silliness and sincerity.

Which is why it made sense to me that she would be on good terms with her father by the time of the story. In my head, there was no fault in the marriage. They just didn't love each other anymore and he didn't really know what he wanted, so they split. Beca blamed him and hated him, of course. She says, "For a long time, I would get so mad if someone said I was anything like him. Even if they just said I looked like him. I didn’t want to be compared to him at all. Because I wanted it to be clear to everyone that I was nothing like him. I’d never leave my kid. You don’t walk away from family, you know?” Different from SG or the movie, Beca doesn't have the option of shutting everything out and growing resentful. She's surrounded by too much that she loves and she's just angry her dad left that behind. Left her behind. Like the great life they had just wasn't enough for him.

So yeah, it's difficult for a long time. And she barely goes to Barden because of it all. But other circumstances--the house, Stacie and Amy going there, the nice studio in town--swayed her. So she kinda had to deal with seeing him more. And, in that time, she started to see he was different. Happier with Sheila. And she was, eventually, able to realize it wasn't that their family wasn't enough for him, it just wasn't right for him. So she forgives him and even gets close to Sheila. And she's emotionally able to do so because she knows her family and friends have her back. The thing her character so dearly needs.

As for Dr. Mitchell (hey, we made it back to him, told you!), he's probably the most canon character in the story lol. He's made mistakes and didn't handle his divorce or keeping in touch with his kid as well as he wanted to, but he loves her very much and wants to do better. And Beca realizing that both in the movie and AIAOY AND SG is what eventually lets them be good again. Closer than they even were before the divorce, because now they understand each other better.

Next chapter, tiny spoiler, you'll get to see that for them. How it isn't awkward like in SG or borderline hostile like the movie. Those things have already been worked through by this point in AIAOY. And I hope it will be enjoyable to read them together in this new way!

Sorry for the literal essay lmfao. I was joking, but then I wasn't xD

[46inpm]

MLQC Housemates Party

Hello I’m back after… awhile but been wanting to do housemates headcannons

PLEASE DRINK RESPONSIBLY🙏 as they may not lol

Victor - Red, Lucien - Purple, Kiro - Orange, Gavin - Blue, Shaw - Green, MC (You) - Pink

I'm changing MC to where she has a good alcohol tolerance and is a bit of a party girl herself

Okay now onto the actual headcanon

They do parties from casual get togethers to formal events to drinking like they’re in college

Rating: Mature

Casual Get Togethers

Just a few friends and co-workers for holidays, casual birthdays, and regular cookouts

Victor is normally the cook for this with the help of Gavin

Gavin is such a grill type of man

They’ll cook as friends are coming over with a movie playing

In the summer they have pool parties

Lucien would be in charge of taking photos of Kiro in his swim trunks to post online for later, gotta feed the fans

When they have a get together in the house there will be a few drinking games

Truth or Drink goes crazy because I know for sure none of the housemates except for MC will answer really personal questions

"Body count?" "Craziest drunken experience?" "Have you ever had a wet dream about MC?"

After that truth or drink wasn't allowed to be played anymore in the future

If it's just the housemates sitting around doing games then they'll be slightly more open

At the end when friends leaves, MC falls asleep on the couch with one cuddling her and the others continuing their conversation

“I’m telling you there’s a raccoon going through our trash.”

“We either call animal control or get rid of it ourselves.”

“Hey, you guys leave Chunky King Bob alone!”

“Great he’s named it…”

Formal Events

They have a whole mansion that's big enough to do an actual formal event

Victor and Kiro are normally the host as it’s kinda required for their reputation

Honestly, both wouldn't do them if they didn't feel obligated for work

Victor, Lucien, Kiro, and MC are the planning committee

Sorry Gavin doesn't have the imagination for this and Shaw is lazy

They'll hold meetings in Victor's office or in the dining room

Most of the time it's a black-tie event but a few times it's themed

The entire house goes on a cleaning rampage the days before

Victor punishes anyone who slacks off by making them wash the dirty garbage cans outside

Really Shaw’s punishment most of the time

Also I know Victor is going to be some animal in heat seeing you all dolled out

Just seeing the jewelry set he bought you decorating your neck and ears is doing something to this poor man

As you're getting ready before the guests start showing, he comes in your room to "check on things" but will just watch you get dress

Slow makeout session happens and when someone knocks, he'll leave pretending like he really was checking on things

"MC have you see my blue tie? Huh, Victor what're you doing?"

"Checking to make sure MC did her tasks."

You're just standing there flushed

Be prepared to be starstruck by the number of celebrities you'll see for Kiro's big birthday event

Lucien and Gavin will sneak you out of there to get alone time separately

"It's stuffy in here."

"Let's go get some fresh air."

You'll be out with them for a while having personal conversations that both of you lose track of time

Their eyes staring so lovingly into yours, never breaking eye contact, hands holding yours or rubbing your sides

THE TRIANGLE METHOD (EYES, LIPS, EYES) PLS LET ME OUT OF MY CAGE

More slow makeout sessions and boy do they want to keep going for the rest of the party

Like the Bachelorette when they have the one one-on-one convos

If Kiro or Victor find out they'll be the most grumpy toward you, imagine a pet that's giving you the silent treatment for not feeding them a third time

"While I had to have meaningless conversations with everyone, I wanted to be with you. Seems you didn't care."

Give the pouty idol your undivided attention for the next couple of hours and he'll immediately forgive you but good luck on Victor

To the housemates, it's a genuine mystery on where Shaw goes in the middle of the event

They'll see him but a second later he's gone missing for the next couple of hours

“Where’s Shaw?”

“I thought he was with you…”

“I thought he was with Gavin.”

“You need me? Did everyone leave already?”

“What the-”

“It’s been three hours.”

Clubbing/Partying

Normally all of you won't go partying together, even if someone invites the housemates out, only a few will go

Gavin, Kiro, and Shaw are always out with you having a blast

I don't ever see Victor or Lucien coming out for these

High levels of socializing and drinking just aren't them and they'll barely talk to each other while everyone's gone

Gavin is the DD (designated driver) and sober dad

Think of the meme with the dad having his children on the backpack leashes going in the opposite direction, that's him but with 3 adults

Kiro will be dancing with you, or drunk rants to someone while Shaw is doing beer pong

Shaw loves being by your side and his hand wrapped around rested on your hip

As much as Gavin and Shaw don't get along, Gavin always checks on Shaw and steps in the way if some drunks try to pick a fight

Back to the house, you're drunk along with Kiro, jumping practically off the walls

Victor and Lucien trying to get yall to drink water

You'll sing praises to everyone about Gavin taking care of everyone

When you're lying in bed, Shaw will sneak in to sleep with you

"Feeling lonely?"

"No, knowing you, you'll wake up hungover. Going to need someone to hold back your hair when you're yaking."

He'll never say the real reason to just cuddle

The only times all housemates go out to party and drink is the rare clubbing occasions

Normally high end clubs

Everyone dressed in their clubbing/partying outfits

The boys will wear nice button ups or plain t-shirts with pants that will go along while you wear a backless top and miniskirt

In the club they’ll reserve a table…for the Li family? so they can immediately sit down and start drinking

We all know Lucien says he’s a good drinker but he’s really not as he doesn’t space out his shots

You’re not helping as it’s shot o’clock every 30 minutes with you

“For going out! For finishing the week! For housemates bonding!”

“Okay, I think that’s enough. Also, Lucien you don’t have to keep taking the shots.”

“Haha, I’m fine.”

Takes a lot of pleading from all of you to have Gavin and Victor drink up (sober dads on break)

From there on things ramp up!!!

Everyone loosens up a lot and have the funniest conversations

Talking about inside jokes to personal stories

Later on the dance floor you’ll be grinding on one of them then the next and making out

The types of drunks: Lucien - possessive drunk, Kiro - happy drunk, Shaw - funny drunk, Victor - horny drunk, Gavin - crying drunk

Lucien’s Ares side come out a lot more that he just wants to be in your embrace and no one touches you

Takes a while for you to calm him down and let the others be near you

“Why did you let him kiss you?”

“Lucien, you also did too. It wouldn’t be fair to the others. Let’s all have fun.”

Kiro is the type to legit constantly compliment anyone and give some motivation speech as if they’re about to jump off a cliff

“Youu’re soo handsome and kind b-but I feel you don’t even know it.”

Shaw’s jokes are so perfectly timed with his expressions that everyone’s sides hurt from laughing, funny how he’s so calm when he says it

“I’m one drink closer to getting a tramp stamp.”

Victor isn’t a big fan on PDA but now he wants you to give him a lap dance mid club and says the dirtiest stuff

Even Lucien and Victor are at war while drunk

“You love the feeling of rubbing yourself against me.”

Poor Gavin has so much regret that he starts pouring out normally to Kiro about wishing he did things differently

“When I left I should have had-had more courage to tell her what I felt but I did not-I didn’t.”

“I get what you’re feeling! Trust me ev-everything has been working out. Like you’re here with Miss Chips getting wasted!!”

Ride share dropping all of you back home still drunk but trying to sober up, everyone is seriously tripping over themselves, laughing controllably

Trying to drink water and devour leftovers

After awhile everyone decides except Victor to sleep in his room because he has the biggest and comfiest bed

As everyone is falling asleep curled up to MC or snuggled in the comforter they knock out

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

So helpless...

Here it is, the platonic yandere older brother Jade! (Alien Azul next!)

Hopefully this isn't a disappointment to those who read my summary. lol.

Warning(s): Jade's really controlling, mentions of violence, platonic yandere stuff, probably non-canon info, not proofread

You were something of a miracle.

You hatched later than the rest of your siblings. And because of that, you were not killed like all the rest of them were.

Of the many many children your parents had, only three survived. One of them being you.

Your parents treated you like the miracle you were. They kept you close to them no matter the cost. They wanted to keep their baby safe always...

And... so did your older brother, Jade.

Jade was a special kind of over-protective. He insisted that, because you barely survived being hatched, there was simply no way you could survive on your own out in the dangerous real world. And as such, he needed to be with you every moment of the day to make sure you were safe.

When he left for Night Raven College with his twin brother Floyd, you realized how... odd... the way he treated you was. If he truly just wanted you to be safe, then wouldn't he have wanted you to have your own life...?

You realized you actually didn't like all the things he convinced you to like. You didn't like the food, the sports, the music... you were an entirely different person than you thought you were.

And then, the carriage came for you.

The carriage came to take you to the school your brothers went to.

At orientation, you tripped over your own feet and fell to the ground while walking to the mirror. And then, you heard a very familiar voice.

"I apologize for my younger sibling, Headmage. They've always been quite... helpless. I assure you, nothing like this will happen again."

And thus once again began Jade's vice grip on your life.

Surprise surprise, you were placed in Octavinelle.

Nearly all day every day, Jade was with you.

Your only moments without him were when you had classes.

And one day, you tried to confide in your other older brother about what was happening.

"I think Jade hates me..." You sighed.

"What makes you say that?" Floyd asked. "He literally smothers you with attention every chance he gets."

"But that's the problem... I don't think he wants me to have my own life." You confessed. "I-I don't get it...! Why is he like this?"

"I mean, I have the answer to that." Floyd told you. "I just don't think you want to know."

"What? You know why he's been doing this my whole life?!" You asked.

"Yep. But, like I said, I don't think you want to know. It's not like it'll change how he treats you..."

...he's right. Even if you know why Jade treats you the way he does, it won't change anything-

"Actually! I think it'd be kinda fun to tell ya! Alright, buckle up (Y/N)! You're in for a ride of a story, ehehe!"

"Alrighty. So, mom and dad basically thought you were dead before you even hatched. Mom still had hope, though, and kept your squishy little egg self safe in a box! And as a result, you were kept safe from Jade's little... purge."

"Purge...?" You asked. "What do you mean by that...?"

"Welllllll~ I'm sure you know mom and dad had tons o' kids and only us three survived. And well, a looooot of our siblings were killed by Jade." Floyd told you. "He thinks he was doing the right thing, pre-emptively gettin' rid of the weaker ones to... I dunno, prevent grief or something? In my opinion, he just did it because he wanted to be the only survivor. He spared me for some reason, though. Not too sure why. Aaaaaaanyways, if you'd hatched when everyone else did, Jade woulda killed you."

"He would have... killed me...?" You asked. You didn't even know what to think. You've always viewed Jade as your protective older brother... and sure, he took it a bit far, but... he wanted you dead...?

"I barely remember the day you hatched, ehe... mom wanted to give you a name right off the bat like a human would! Dad was able to convince her to wait, though. But you still got you name sooner than us two. You got your name a year after you were hatched! Can ya believe that? Jade and I were six when we got ours." Floyd patted you on your head. "Anyways yeah Jade wanted you dead in the ground. In his mind, you weren't meant to survive, and he had to do something about that. But he couldn't bare to put mom through that... so he decided that controlling your every move would let him feel, I don't know. Superior? Who knows. And you know, even though he wanted you to die for virtually no reason when he was a kid, he cares about you a lot! He clearly doesn't want you to die anymore."

You didn't want to be anywhere near Jade after finding this out.

You need something. Anything.

Food.

You need to eat.

You need to convince yourself this is real life.

You feel like you're about to vomit.

Your older brother, your precious over-protective older brother...

He wanted you to die?

That can't be true, right?

You stumble your way to the kitchen of Octavinelle. You need to eat something, you forgot to have dinner tonight... meat, any kind of meat... when you eat it, surely you'll find out whether or not this is real...

The hallways of the dorm were dark, painfully so. It was so dark, too dark...

...you've always been scared of the dark, but it's never been this bad. You were actually shaking, you were absolutely... terrified. And it was because of Jade. Whenever you were scared, Jade was the one who assured you everything would be ok, and that there's nothing to be scared of. Whenever you were swimming through the darkness, Jade would hold your hand to let you know he's there for you and can protect you...

You remember, one of the only times you were outside alone, someone attacked you. You remember that day so vividly in your mind... you remember screaming for help and sobbing uncontrollably, seeing your blood floating in the water in front of you. Then, your brother came for you. He saved you.

While your attacker was receiving a thorough beating from your brother, they said something. You didn't think anything of it at the time, since you were focused more on how much pain you were in, but... looking back on it... "WHAT THE HELL, LEECH?! I THOUGHT YOU ASKED ME TO HURT THIS KID! WHAT IS WITH YOU?!"

...whenever you looked back on that day as a child, you rationalized that in whatever way you could. But now, you realize what was really going on back then.

That must have been the beginning. That must have been when you began to think that you can't defend yourself, that you can't survive on your own, that you will die without him.

Oh, you're at the kitchen.

...better get that food you wanted.

You got the food, and thought about your childhood in this new context.

It's been this way the whole time, hasn't it...?

"You're so helpless, (Y/N). I swear, it's almost like you can't survive on your own. But don't worry. You have your big brother here to protect you."

Jade has always been this way.

You continued eating your food and thinking about your childhood, until... you heard a certain someone's voice.

"Ah, (Y/N), there you are. What are you doing in the kitchen this late at night?"

Jade stared at you, his eyes almost glowing.

"I-I was just... hungry..." You timidly responded.

"(Y/N), please don't lie to me." Jade said to you. "Did Floyd tell you something you weren't supposed to know?"

"No, h-he didn't..." You tried looking away from him. Jade grabbed your face and made you look at him.

"(Y/N), look into my eyes." He told you. "You know I don't want to have to do this. So please tell the truth, don't make me use it on you. What did Floyd tell you, (Y/N)."

He's threatened to use his unique spell on you before. He's threatened to use it on you many times before.

"Like I said, I don't want to use it on you, so it would be better if you just-"

"H-he told me everything...!" You started crying at that exact moment. "He t-told me how you killed everyone, a-and wanted me dead as well!"

Jade just stared at you, a completely blank expression on his face.

"I see." Jade smiled. "Well, as unfortunate as it is... that is completely true, (Y/N). There was a point in my life where I wanted you to die in the most agonizing way possible, and I think a part of me still does... but (Y/N), I assure you, most of me loves you and wants to protect you!"

You were completely petrified. What do you do? What do you feel?

"You have no idea how many times I've considered carving apart your body while you sleep, or choking you to death, drowning you while you're stuck in a human form..." Jade laughed to himself. "I even considered snapping your neck just earlier today~!"

You couldn't stop crying. Your entire world was crashing down around you.

"Oh dear, what's with that face? There's no need to cry." He wiped your tears. "As I've said, there's no need to worry! I would never hurt you, you know that. I'll do everything in my power to protect you."

He pressed a finger to your lips.

"Just promise me you'll never tell mother and father~"

The few friends you'd made at NRC have realized that you've been growing more distant recently.

You're hanging out with your brothers more often, too.

You're also never alone anymore. Except for during class, your older brother Jade is always following you around.

...

Jade was always really controlling.

From what you ate to who your friends were, he controlled your life entirely.

But now moreso than ever, he made sure your every action was determined by him.

[olderthannetfic]

I've done some reading challenges before and I think they can be fun if they have a purpose: for instance, something like the Read Harder challenge, ones that encourage you to read from different genres or read more diverse books, etc. I have a sort of evergreen challenge where I encourage myself to read more books written by authors from different countries, and keep a spreadsheet of which countries I've "read." (I also do this with other kinds of entertainment like movies.) But it's definitely true that some of them just seem to be for the gimmick and aesthetic, and for people who prize quantity over quality of reading in a sort of commodity-fetishism (as they're prizing books as markers of intelligence over the actual experience of learning and expanding your world via reading). Like when the challenges start to be things like "read a book with an orange cover" that's where I start to roll my eyes a bit, haha.

I will say that while I try not to be a snob about reading, it does drive me nuts when I've had people lord over how many more books they've read or how many more pages when they're reading beach reads and YA and other easily digestible stuff whereas I'm reading stuff that is heavier. One time when I was working some crappy minimum-wage job in college, I was reading this big omnibus of all Jane Austen's works (because I was taking a class on her where I was required to read those, not that I wouldn't read Austen otherwise lol) on my break, and one of the other employees asked me how many pages it was and I answered and he was like "pfft, that's nothing, I read all the Harry Potter books in a week and they're more than that!" And I wanted to be like.... yeah, me too, dipshit. I mean, I didn't literally read them in one week, but when each one came out, I devoured it within a day or two like a lot of people did, despite it being 800 pages. Because Rowling's prose is really easy to gobble up like that. Not that Austen is impenetrable or anything (I don't think she is and I think that's precisely why she remains so evergreen popular), but she does require more effort than *that*, particularly when you're reading her work for a literature class where you're expected to write a paper analyzing it, so you want to linger to make sure you really deeply understand it.

I've read academic monographs that were 150 pages long that took me weeks to get through, and I've read 800-page bestsellers that I ripped through in a few days. Pure page length does not determine how long it takes to actually read something. I mean.... in fandom we should all be aware of this, how many of us have devoured some 100k fic in a night or two? As someone who has written some of those academic monographs myself and therefore is familiar with how word count tends to relate to book page length, I can verify for you that that is the equivalent of devouring a novel in the same time frame. But it's a lot easier to do that when you're reading relatively invisible prose and are invested in your OTP getting together (or whatever) vs. if you're trying to digest someone's very dry and convoluted argument about Foucault.

--

I just read all of Scum Villain in about five minutes, yeah. And it was great, but nothing to brag about as an achievement.

I've got this friend who goes on about reading sooooo fast but then admits to often rereading to catch things that she missed the first time. It came up when I was explaining how seldom I reread or rewatch anything. I tend to remember it far, far too keenly after one time through, and it just doesn't hit the same a second time. I still read pretty fast, but not that fast.

I don't think it's snobby to roll your eyes at people who clearly don't grasp the difference between different difficulties of reading and—this is key—who are trying to wave their dick at you about how great they are. They started it!

The time I do roll my eyes is when people think you should read mega hard prose in order to learn, especially in order to learn vocabulary or get faster at reading. That's not what the science says. (Apparently, the fastest way to improve on that kind of thing is to read mass quantities of faintly hard-for-you stuff, not stuff that's hard hard.) But to learn how to decode confusing arguments? Yes, absolutely.

I do wish people would put a little more effort into unwinding their own tortured syntax on Foucault though.

[i-trash-about-things]

a.n.: I can't believe this took me 6 freaking months to write. It definitely doesn't live up for the hype, but for some reason the words just wouldn't flow. In the mean time, I graduated! Actually went to prom! It kinda sucked, I really don't see the hype behind it!

Anyway, enjoy– and thank you for the patience to those that were interested in this story. If you're still interested by the end of this part– well, you'll know for yourself if there will be more lol ;)

Part 1!

Multiple perspectives (3rd and 1st person); Henderson!Reader; GN!Reader; use of Y/N; Billy Hargrove Survived (but he isn't a racist piece of shit); Everyone might be OOC, sorry lol; swearing; light violence; mostly fluff; English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn’t make sense :p; no beta, we die like Vecna should’ve

4.5k words.

Third Time's The Charm.

Dustin’s day has been good, in his less than humble opinion.

School sucked the same as always, but hey! Everything other than that was actually pretty awesome!

His older sibling popping by on a whim wasn’t a rare occasion, far from it. When they first moved to college, he cried the whole day thinking he would only see them on Christmas, and now it’s like they never moved in the first place!

Well, maybe it’s because of the Upside Down thing and how they almost died about a million times in the last 4 years, but Dustin liked to believe it’s because they just love him very very much.

But, one thing actually did change.

Eddie.

“Dustin, my man, my favorite nerd, what a sight to the sore eye you are right now!”

Speak of the devil.

Him and Eddie have known each other for a while. I mean, how could he not when the metal-head has been his sibling's best friend for almost all his life?

And with the time to get used to each other, plus Dustin’s natural attentiveness and attention to detail, he can read this guy like the cheap rip-off comic of spider-man he is.

Eddie wants something.

“Is that a new upgrade to your walkie? Dude, that looks sick, what does it do?”

“Nothing, it’s just a normal radio actually.”

“Oh.”

A snort leaves his nose. Dustin shakes his head, setting the walkie talkie on the library table before looking up to his friend.

“You really aren’t subtle, my friend.”

“First things first: how dare you. Secondly-” Eddie pushes the nearest chair back, giving him enough space to sit on the old table. The notebook under him crinkles, but he just pushes it aside, clearly in too much of a rush to care about a random person’s notes. “I need your help.”

“If it’s about the whipped cream on Lucas’ backpack and his basketball shoes, it’s too late. The operation is already in motion.”

“Operation- wait, did you put whipped cream on Sinclair’s shoes?”

“What? No I didn’t. You didn’t hear that from me.”

“Mhm.” Eddie just sends Dustin a look, raising an eyebrow with just a very done expression on his eyes, before shaking his head. “You know what, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear anything.”

He leans closer, likes he’s about to tell the biggest secret of his life. The notes beneath his butt crumble further.

“It’s about your sibling.”

“Y/N? What they have to do with anything?”

“I’m gonna ask 'em to prom.”

If Dustin were drinking something, he would’ve done a spit take right now.

“WHAT?!”

“SHHHH!” The other school library attendees shush him, all glaring in their direction. Dustin flushes a little, curling into himself, but Eddie doesn’t even flinch.

“I want to take your older sibling to prom, Henderson. Like, real bad.”

“Dude!”

“What?!”

“That’s my sibling!”

“And my best friend! So??”

“So–” Dustin sputters. How does he even respond to that?!

Don’t get him wrong, of all the people he could’ve picked to compete for your hand, Eddie would always be his champion. His two favorite people??? Sign him up!

Doesn’t mean his into it, tho!

“Why?!”

“What do you mean ‘why’?! You’ve ever met ‘em?! They're the coolest most beautiful, and funniest person I’ve ever known! Why wouldn’t I want to take them to prom?”

“No, not that- why the change? I thought you wanted to go with Chrissy??”

That gets a reaction out of him.

Eddie flinches, looking away. He passes a hand through his hair, half hiding himself beneath the brown curls.

“Chrissy… She’s…”

Dustin does not like the hesitation. The kid crosses his arms over his chest, squinting up at Eddie with distrust.

“Look, I’m all for you going after my big sibling–”

“Really? That wasn’t what it looked like two seconds ago.”

Dustin squints further, frowning, and Eddie groans.

“Just keep going.”

“As I was saying, I don’t mind you taking my big sibling to prom… If you actually mean it.”

It’s his turn to frown, a mirror of Dustin’s expression, but in confusion and a little bit of offense.

“What? Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

“You were just drooling over Chrissy, like, two days ago! I get you getting rejected, but don’t use them as a rebound, dude!”

“What?!”

“SHHHHH!” Strike two, the people around them shush them both again. Dustin doesn’t flinch this time, both him and Eddie a bit too enthralled in the topic at hand.

“How could you say that?! You know how much I care about Y/N!”

“I know that, but I also know how much they cares about you.”

“What does that has to do with anything?”

“Uh- Literally everything? What, you think you can just go and ask them all willy nilly to go to prom with you like it’s no big deal, and they won’t feel like it’s a big deal? Thye care, dude! What you say matters to them!”

Something in that makes Eddie pause, breath hitching on the tip of his tongue. He knew that, of course… Didn’t he?

His mind flashes back to the three years ago, just in the middle of prom season.

“Y/N Henderson, you did not–”

“Oh but I did! I did, despite it all!”

Eddie feels the bright afternoon sun on his back, the ever warming spring air making his hair and their hair flutter in the wind.

Today has been a weird day. His friends all seemed either jittery or smug, like they know something he doesn’t, a joke he didn’t get the punchline yet.

But the weirdest thing? His best friend wasn’t waiting for him by his parking spot.

At the end of class, he found a pretty envelope on his locker, attached to it a blue little flower– one of the few he recognizes. Forget-me-not’s.

“6 years sure go by fast. We’ve been through a lot in that time, didn’t we? And we will go through a lot more shit, knowing us like I do.

I was hoping you’d indulge me on a little game, just for old times sake.

Check the supply closet closest to you.”

From then on, he went on a surprisingly elaborate scavenger hunt. Passing through closets, to bathrooms, even checking in with his friends when the little clues told him to. Surely enough, each one handed him a new letter, and each one had a soft and excited smile on their lips.

After a good half hour of running around the school like a headless chicken, Eddie had accumulated enough clues to fill both his pockets and enough flowers for a small bouquet. The last letter sits on his hand as he dashes around the halls, a big smile on his lips.

“Ok, I promise this is the last one– for real this time, I swear.

This had been a rough year on you, but I was hoping to send it off with a bang. One last middle finger to the world before I have to leave you behind to fend for yourself in the lion’s den.

So, Edward Munson, meet me by the woods, in our usual spot.”

“Henderson, you absolute maniac!” Eddie all but jumps over the picnic table, practically throwing himself on his best friends arms. They don't even blink, only opening up and holding him. Firm, steady and warm. Their laughter feels like electricity and care all at once over his skin, and he breaks into goosebumps.

“Did you like it? Had any fun?”

“Hell yeah I did! How long have you been planning this, dude?!”

“Ah, who cares about that?” They flick their wrist, like trying to get rid of an annoying fly. Eddie’s way too used to their dismissive and nonchalant nature at this point, so he just laughs and hugs them close again.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what did I ever do to deserve you?”

He can’t see, but their smile softens. The hold on him tightens, and they buries their face into the mess of his hair.

“You’re you. That’s more than enough.”

After a beat, they finally pull away from the other. Eddie doesn’t even questions at their dazed gaze, used to it at this point, even if he never truly knew the reason behind it. He squeezes their shoulders, still a little incredulous at the situation. Taking his little moment of silence as an opportunity, Y/N steps back and takes one last flower from their pocket. It’s a little bit beaten up after being squashed in the hug, but it makes Eddie’s heart feel tight anyway.

“Look, I know this hasn’t been an easy year for you. You’ve been through a lot of shit, dealing with shitheads like Carver and Hagan, and that you didn’t graduate, but… But I wanted to make the end a good memory, you know? Eat junk food, dress fancy for once in our lives, pretend that we’re the protagonists for once, you know?”

They take a deep breath, eyes locked on the little flower on their hand. It’s impossible to lift their head and finally gaze into the eyes of their best friend. The love of their life.

Bah, call 'em dramatic. They're already way too deep into this cheesy bullshit to care.

“So. Eddie. Eds. Angel. Would… You, maybe… Like to… Gotopromwithme??”

Well that was smooth.

Still, it doesn’t seem like he cares about their awkward stumbling.

Instead, he just pulls them into one more hug, laughing like a maniac.

“Yes! Of course I’d like to, you dumbass! You’re my best friend!”

And those words make their heart races and breaks, all at once.

They let the little blue flower fall to the ground, unbothered by the numbness on their fingertips.

“I know. You’re my best friend too, Eds.”

Eddie shakes his head, locks brushing against his nose at the intensity. This is a crisis for another time.

“I know, believe me. But I’m telling the truth! I don’t care about Chrissy, I legitimately want them to be my date!”

Dustin raises an eyebrow, feeling the genuine longing in Eddie’s tone. It’s a surprising match to his siblings, every time they talks about Eddie. That lingering bitter-sweetness in the end of the sentence, the longing in each and every word. He’s heard them rant and ramble, on and on, about the metal-head more time than Dustin feels like counting, he knows that tone. It’s a perfect match.

So, he sighs, leaning his head back against the library’s chair to the point his cap almost falls off.

“Fine, I’ll help.”

“Yes!”

“SHHHHH!”

…

Today was… Weird.

Maybe it was the way the sun was beating down my face, too hot for a spring day, maybe it was the fact that the 7-11 I passed by didn’t have my favorite slushy flavor, but something just seemed… A little off today. Like someone just tilted the world a little bit to the left.

I take a long drag from the cigarette between my lips, watching the shining sun from my spot by my car. Sitting beside me is none other than Billy Hargrove, the same glare up at the sky as mine.

It’s always funny hanging out with Billy by the school’s grounds. We used to beat each other up in this same parking lot, about two years ago! And now look at us, sharing a can of coke beneath the spring sky like two dads waiting for their kids after football practice.

“I can hear your brain about to cook up some weird shit to say, Henderson. Please keep it to yourself.”

I don’t even blink at his harsh tone, putting a sugary sweet expression and leaning to lay my head on his shoulder.

“Awn, I know you love my commentary.”

He’s quick to brush me off, with not nearly as much strength as he used to a few years ago.

“I’d rather hear the screams of children.”

All I can do is snort, laughing slightly before taking a sip of the can between us.

Billy is one of the only people acting somewhat normal today, same snarky responses that once made me lunge for his throat and same pissed off frown.

He’s also one of the few people I trust the most, funnily enough. What can I say, he’s seen the worst in me and somehow still sticks around- probably because I’ve seen the worst in him too, but still. Maybe that trust is what made me press the halfway burnt cigarette into the ground and turn to look back at him.

“Hey, dude?”

“Hm.”

“Is it just me or is everyone kinda off today?”

And to my surprise, he doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, he raised his own cigarette to his lips, taking a long and deep drag.

“Nope, just you.”

“Pfft, weird, something tells me your lying?”

“Something? What, like voices in your head? Damn, I knew you were crazy, Henderson, but this is new ground.”

“Billy.”

“… Hmph.”

He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets, sunglasses tilting down just enough to see the look he sends me. I shake my head and he relaxes. There’s a small pause after that. He flicks the cigarette ash off, before glancing to me again.

“Look, it’s nothing you have to worry about, ok?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his words, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Last time you said that, you were possessed by a god damned spider monster thing.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m not. So chill out.”

Isn’t he sweet?

I chew on the inside of my cheek, breathing in slowly before letting out a long long sigh.

“Fine.” A pause. But then I turn to look at him again, with the most serious expression I can. “But if you are possessed again-”

“Fuck off.”

“Pfft-”

The loud ringing of the school bell quickly brings our attention back to the front doors of Hawkins High. Like clockwork, they open and the sea of teenagers roll out, flooding the parking lot. My eyes drift between faces, looking for any sign of my favorite club, but the first thing I catch is a familiar cap and a mess of red hair.

Dustin immediately runs up to me, his cap hitting me on his attempt at a dive hug. Max is not so far from him, but instead of the affection attack she just flips Billy the bird… which he quickly reciprocates, smirking.

The two types of siblings.

“Hey, Junior.” The sarcastic and rougher edge to my voice quickly melts off, turning to the normally sweeter and more relaxed tone reserved only for my little brother. Dustin immediately turns to me, smiling like he always does- but, of course, there’s something off.

“Hello there, older sibling figure.”

… ok.

I just let out a chuckle, a little weirded out. See? It can’t be just me, everyone’s acting all skittish for some reason. Did I miss the memo?

Max pushes Dustin’s cap over his eyes before he has the chance open his mouth again, her eyes literally screaming for him to shut up. Then, she turns to me.

“If he hurts you, tell me. I’ll kick his ass.”

“… What???”

The hell’s going on?

Dustin clears his throat, pushing his hat back and sending Max a half hearted glare.

“As I was about to say- Eddie told me to give you this.”

From the depths of his many pockets, he pulls a… letter? A note, better said, scribbled in a chicken scratch of a writing I know way too well.

Before I can open it, he quickly pulls me so I look at him again.

“I’m gonna catch a ride with Max today I’ll see you later ok bye-”

And he practically drags Max to Billy’s car… which she weirdly let’s him do. I look back at the blonde next to me… and he doesn’t even blink at the interaction, stepping on the rests of his cigarette before turning away from me without a word.

What…. the hell.

As the familiar camaro drives off the parking lot, leaving me to my lonesome by my truck, I glance down at the note in my hands. Crumpled notebook paper, with the little bits used to wrap around the spiral still attached, and that familiar handwriting.

After a huff of amusement, I open up the letter.

“Greetings, dear adventurer! It is I, Eddie the Pardoned (we really need to workshop that title).

This is your formal request to join in on an adventure through the ever changing land of Hawkins High school. Walk across the mighty and dangerous hallways where jocks once slammed our faces into lockers, or traverse into the terrifying lands we call the gym showers!

Follow the riddles and clues, and if you’re lucky, the gates of a whole new adventure shall open to those with brave and worthy hearts.

Good luck.”

“Dramatic dork.” I mumble beneath my breath, but the smile on my lips can only be described as disgustingly smitten.

I look over the note again, flipping it between my fingers. Surely enough, more writing in the back.

“Those who trail my path are the best liars, but also the most emotional of artists. The many nights you’ve spent between my walls, you were never quite yourself. Oh, wow, he really wasn’t kidding on making riddles, huh?”

I can’t help but let out a chuckle, raising my eyes from the paper in my hands and looking around the parking lot. There’s a lot of people walking around right now, most speeding to get home after a long long Friday, but my eyes don’t catch a single hint of anyone using the familiar Hellfire shirt. Which is definitely weird, they’re normally the first ones to leave the school. Still, no sign of Jeff, or Bryan, or Gareth, much less Ed.

I look back down to the riddle.

“The many nights you’ve spent between my walls” So it’s a place, then? One I’ve been before, if Eddie isn’t being a little shit and using “you” because he thinks it sounds better.

“Those who trail my path are the greatest liars, but most emotional of artists.” Greatest liars? And most emotional of artists. Well, if it’s a place, related to art, then the art room? But then why the lying?

“You weren’t quite yourself.” Wasn’t… quite myself. Hm.

A place, probably one at school since I doubt he would’ve gone so extra as to go around the entire city, related to art and lying. “Wasn’t quite yourself.”

…

Wait, the drama club?

Art of lying- could he mean acting? A room related to acting in which I’ve been to before.

The drama club, at D&D nights!

My feet are moving before my brain is, crumpled up note being carefully stuffed into my pants pockets.

…

Not far…

“The bird has taken flight, over.”

“Dustin, will you stop with the codenames?! Just- Just get into position! Over!”

…

How many damn riddles can this man write??? I must’ve collected more than twelve by now!

There’s a small collection of notes in my left hand, my pockets too filled up to stuff any more of them without damaging. My shoes squeak against the floors of the mostly empty school, echoing in my ears as I run from room to room, classroom to classroom.

I swear, If this is some sort of elaborate prank, I’m going to kick Eddie’s ass until Halloween comes.

I let out a groan leaning down to reach another, stuck beneath my– well, not mine, it hasn’t been mine since I graduated– seat at the iconic Hellfire Club lunch table. When I turn to the back, I’m surprised to see there isn’t a riddle this time, no little set of verses to greet me. So, after a small hum of interest, I fold it open.

“If you’ve reached this point of your quest, fair knight, I’m proud to tell you your prize awaits you! (Because I’m not like SOME people who do FAKE OUTS THREE TIMES IN A ROLL)

All that’s left is for you to come and get it. Your king awaits in our usual spot.”

-E.M.

“Pfft– my king?” I can barely pay attention to the soft laugh that leaves my lips, chest too warm and filled with cotton to notice. Dork.

Still, I just set the note with the rest, walking to the nearest exit with a smile on my lips.

I’m still have no idea what Eddie is planning with all of this. Despite the dozen plus notes, he hasn’t gave me a single of hint for the reason of this scavenger… Hunt.

…wait.

I mean, it’s not– it’s not possible, right?

He was talking about inviting Chrissy less than a week ago!

Nah, nah, yeah, it’s not… He wouldn’t. Not me, anyway.

…

Well I just made myself sad.

A groan leaves my lips as I shake my head, hair flowing around with the motion before bouncing and stopping, strands sticking to my eyelashes. Enough with the self pity. I’m better than this. Whatever it is that Eddie has planned to me is going to be awesome.

The hallways echoes with my steps, the sound of my combat boots squeaking in the shiny tile flooring being the only sound as I leave the school. It’s late afternoon at this point, the sun starting to set as everything is painted golden. The walk through the woods is longer than I remember, the late spring wind ruffling through my clothes. After a while, I’m reaching the clearing…

And there’s no one here…?

“Eddie?” I spin in place, looking in between the trees for any sign of the silhouette I know better than my own. It’s quiet here, with the exception of the singing birds and early crickets. I stuff my hands in my pockets, and my brows twitch in worry. “Did I take too long…?”

When I pull them back, one of them holds the last hint. It’s impossible to be anywhere else– he literally said our usual spot, and this is it, isn’t it? Unless my first suspicion was right, and he really meant to spread these around the town– wait, no, then why would he set them up around school? What am I m–

“BOO– OW!”

“EDDIE?!”

My knuckles sting, heart beating louder than a drum as I stare at my fallen best friend, cradling his own face. Immediately I reach for him, falling to my knees by his side.

“Jesus Christ, Munson, you scared the shit out of me! I’m so sorry– Oh, god dammit, sweetheart, c’mere, c'mere… Let me see…” I gently tug his hands from his face, touches practically feather light and with as much care as I can channel. He laughs all the while, completely unbothered by the forming bruise on his cheek.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson– You pack quite the punch! Holy crap, I think you dislocated my jaw–”

“Stop saying shit like that, you’ll manifest it.” I chuckle under my breath (but do check his jaw, making sure everything is in place and I didn’t punch one of his teeth in.). “Why the hell you sneaked up on me like that? What thought process made you think that was a good idea??”

“I don’t know!” He laughs, falling limp on the grass while looking up at me. His smile is almost dopey, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he said he just got baked. He doesn’t smell like weed, tho. Just smoke and cologne, the one that makes me wish I could bury my nose into his neck and just live there. “I thought it’d be a good idea? All I needed to do was distract you for a little while!”

“Distract me?” I snort, brows tilting in a playful frown. “From what?”

“Shit–” And at the sound of my brother’s cursing, I lift my eyes from my best friend’s face.

What do I find if not the rest of the Hellfire club, haphazardly stacked on each other’s shoulders putting up a huge banner on the branches of the nearest threes. Jeff has Mike on his shoulders, while Bryan has Justin– and Lucas and Gareth watch a few steps away, clearly trying to not bring attention to themselves as I turn to them.

“Michael, if you ruin my jacket with your dirty ass shoes–”

“I’m trying not to! Stop moving!”

“Guys! Guys, I’m gonna fall! BRYAN–”

“You’re not gonna fall, Dustbin– stop being a pussy and just tie the goddamn thing.”

“What the hell…?” I mumble, even more confused than when I found the kids sneaking Eleven into Mike’s basement.

Eddie doesn’t answer me with anything but a cackle, getting up to his feet and jogging up to the rest of the club. His grin is so wide his dimples are lost between smile lines, brown eyes shining in the late afternoon sun that warms my skin and cheeks. He skids to a stop under the banner, not even waiting to check if it’s tied up properly before tugging the bottom and unrolling it.

‘COME DITCH PROM WITH THIS FREAK?’

And the arrows badly painted on the bottom point directly at him, that turns around to beam my way with his smile brighter than the sun.

…

I don’t know if the guys have fallen silent or if I just gone deaf, but I don’t have the mental power to look. It’s like the whole world turned… quiet.

My heart can’t seem to choose between skipping beats or skidding to stop. I can feel my skin tingling, my knuckles going from stinging to burning. As does the back of my neck and the bottom of my gut.

I read the words, over and over again, shocked…

“Is this…” My tongue feels like it’s knotted, tied and shipped to the other side of the country. No words could ever describe– whatever the hell I’m feeling right now. “Are you… Is– Are you for real??”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, the warm orange lighting almost making it look like his cheeks are dyed a soft red. His smile is confident, almost cocky and playful as he looks down at me. “As real as a I can be.”

My mouth feels drier than a desert, and I swallow harshly. I can’t turn my eyes from him, like I’m transfixed… which, in someways, I am.

He has hypnotized me, a puppet on his strings.

I feel starstruck.

Eddie takes my silent as a go ahead, because after standing under the banner for a second, he slowly walks to me again. For some reason, I don’t even think to get back on my feet until he’s almost right in front of me, his head obscuring the sun as if he’s the only star I need.

“Henderson,” He says, the smirk on his lips almost sheepish. “I’ve got to apologize. I’ve been… kind of a shit best friend for the last couple years. You’ve been my paladin, my white knight, the voice of reason when I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t even thank you properly.”

He extends his hand, the black stone in his ring finger catching the sunlight from his smile.

“So let me make it up to you… Will you let me take you with me to not-prom?”

My throat closes up, my eyes sting, but my smile is as bright as the moon.

“Yeah, I will.”

And I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.

taglist! @eddiesgirlforever @plk-18 thx for the support and the patience!! :D

[oonajaeadira]

questions tag game

Lol thanks for the tag, @insomniamamma, @grogusmum, @katareyoudrilling, @toomanytookas, and @ace-turned-confused. I missed playing games!!!

Do you make your own bed? Only if I have rehearsal that day. My rehearsal studio is in my garage and the only toilet's inside the house. Our back door goes directly into the bedroom, so if people have to pass through our bedroom, I'd like it to look neat. But otherwise no. I actually like to throw the covers wide and let the sheets air.

Favorite number? Truthfully, numbers are weird to me. I don't get 'em. It's a long story. I guess the only one that catches my notice is probably 17 because my birfday, but I don't know if I'd say it was a favorite.

What’s your job? I work with performing artists. Fewer than 300 people on earth have my job and probably fewer than half of those even use the same job title. But I love love love my job; I'm good at it and it feels like I was made to do it. I get to spend my days working to make it more accessible for artists to present their work, organizing arts events, and fighting on their behalf to keep arts programs running.

If you could go back to school, would you? A few years ago I might have said yes. But now, probably not. I'm content to take classes, but I don't have the time, money, or energy. I wouldn't want the pile of checkboxes and deadlines again, that's for sure.

Can you parallel park? Pretty well, yes. Bonus for being able to parallel park in February when the snow's all built up on the side of the road and I have to gun it through plow drifts.

Do you think aliens are real? Statistically speaking, the probability of there deffo being aliens is astronomically high. (See what I did there)

Can you drive a manual car? Yes. I learned in/took my test in/first owned a stick. My dad taught me to drive and wanted to make sure I could always drive whatever vehicle I got in. It was his way of protecting me--if I ever got in a scrape and suddenly needed to drive a car, I'd be able to, no matter what. It actually came in handy in college because I was a pretty straight shooter, so my friends could drink and toke and I was always there to drive them home, even if it wasn't my car.

What’s your guilty pleasure? Most of my pleasures are guilt free because idgaf. But I do love staying up late knowing that I'll be tired in the morning. And I do love having a lazy day even though I know being sedentary isn't good for me. I love love love flying when I go on vacation, but I know my carbon footprint is deep. And I love shopping on Amazon and Shien and...well...*capitalist guilt*

Any phobias? Centipedes. Stick around my blog and you'll hear me scream about it often enough.

Favorite childhood sport? I was a water baby, so I loved swimming and would get into the water any chance I could. I was on swim team and gymnastics team in junior high. Loved riding my bike anywhere I could get to. And I was big on roller skating and downhill skiing...until I found theater and then I couldn't imagine risking breaking a bone and being in the wrong kind of a cast for six weeks....

Do you talk to yourself? All. The. Time. In the third person. Both admonishment and praise as well as practicing imaginary conversations with others. Sometimes it's a back and forth battle between two voices that are both me playing devil's advo. And sometimes I talk out fic dialogue in the shower or in the car. I get caught at it all the time. Whoops.

Tattoos? One on my back that I'm thinking about covering up with a Darksaber/watercolor tat. Now that I'm at the point in my career where I don't have to keep my body "marketable" (an actor's life is bizarre, yo), I'm thinking of getting a set of matching forearm tats.

Favorite color? Lemon yellow.

Do you like puzzles? I love brain puzzles. Sudoku, crosswords, anagrams, logic puzzles, escape rooms. Complex scheduling lol. Anything you have to think through. I usually wake up and play my way through most of the New York Times daily puzzles first thing in the morning. I am not as fond of trial-and-error puzzles like jigsaws and rubiks though. Those just feel like work to me.

.

tagging: @feathersandfoxtails @songsformonkeys @yespolkadotkitty @julesonrecord @writeforfandoms

@honestly-shite @lowlights @ithinkwehitametaphor @moonlitbirdie @the-blind-assassin-12

[harlequinoccult]

thank you for explaining the caustic personality!! honestly Vulpine might as well have caustic as his main w apathetic tendencies instead, ig ill find out when the demo is updated XD both personality types fit him too well. honestly he's not that aggressive as a person, he's actually mostly quite polite, but he does have a tendency to stare. the ones who really get to see his aggressive side are the people he dislikes (Host better fucking prepare himself-)

well i figured i'd just finish what i started, and continue on my never-ending ramble. usually i like making Ariel an orphan, it's a bit of a callback to his roots and it fits him, but this time i think the second option i usually go for him fits best: single child of a single mother. she's the only family he has that he knows of, a very loving, religious and hard working lady who was shunned from the community for getting pregnant out of wedlock. the very first fights Ari would get into in his childhood were against kids who would say some unsavory shit abt his mom. having a mother who was blindly dedicated to the same church that constantly made her suffer for the mistake of having a kid without a husband also played a very big part into Ariel becoming an atheist and rebelling against the church in his teen years.

she was p absent as a parent, having to work p much the whole day to be able to support them both, but she tried her best the moments when she was present, and Ari recognizes that and loves her dearly. he started stealing things and got his first job quite young to try to help her pay the bills.

he got arrested when he was around 18 yo, probably getting caught on one of his "heists", trying to steal from the richer houses around, and he hasn't seen her since then. his time in prison was... bad. really fucking bad. the worst, lowest point of his life, in fact.

i have no idea how the legal system works in england and i have no desire to learn, but for what's worth he is caught trying to escape at least once, and spends 2 miserable years in there until he finally manages to leave.

did he actually complete his sentence? lol. lmao.

no. no he didn't. be it by a month, a year, a day, the important thing is he didn't.

is Ariel Fox even his real name? i doubt it. that would be stupid wouldn't it, illegally immigrating to a different country after escaping from prison and using your real ass name to do it, he's smarter than that.

fun fact abt Ari: he does not want to go back to prison. he'll kill himself before they have the chance to catch him.

on a... "unrelated" note, the reason why Carter managed to wrap such a tight leash on Ariel is bc he learned smth he shouldn't have and he's holding that little secret right over his head. im sure you can't possibly guess what he found out that would make Ariel put up w his shit the way he did-

so the fact that Ari ends up in this city (i forgor the name and i can't leave the askbox to check or ill lose everything i typed 😭) is honestly not rlly much of a surprise, nor is the fact that he's p much alone despite living there for years. he's always been a bit of an outcast, a loner, someone who avoids people on purpose. he hasn't seen his mom since he left england, but he looks her up every once in a while. debates whether he should call her. decides it's for the best that he doesn't.

he starts over. new life, new me, or whatever the hell people say. starts off already with shifty connections, he needs a fake identity and a fake birth certificate and a fake everything if he has any hope of passing by unscathed, after all. needs to lay low. not call too much attention. be a nobody. wait until things calm down a bit.

he stays at least a year living like that, settling in, subduing his accent until he can pass it off as having learned it from a family member or some other bullshit. applies for university. becomes just another american college student.

meets someone.

falls in love.

has them taken from him. has his entire life destroyed. again. needs to try to pick himself up. again. is struck with such crippling grief unlike anything he has ever felt before. it's almost as bad as the two worst years of his life.

almost.

he's never letting anything like that happen to him ever again.

anyway! as mentioned before, he was working on getting a doctorate when Carter came along, and he sort of had to drop out after that, to the dismay of his teachers. what was he getting a doctorate on? honestly p much anything would be in-character for Ariel, he's an everything nerd, from language to history to engineering to biology that man wants to know quite literally everything the world has to offer him. his infodumps are the most complete and varied possible, he's a walking talking encyclopedia.

he's an extremely paranoid person who overthinks everything including his own overthinking and really, if nothing else here's to hoping that OD can at least teach him to loosen up a bit-

he never enjoyed doing drugs very much, despite partaking in them quite often in his youth. he's way more likely to experience a bad trip than a good one, so he learned to stay away from them as much as possible, but alcohol and nicotine were a completely different story. he's still addicted to nicotine to this day, the one drug he allows himself to never let go. he was an alcoholic through a big chunk of his life, until someone did Very Bad Things to him when he was too drunk to be able to fight back. that experience just flipped a switch inside of him, it broke him badly enough to make him promise himself to never touch another drop of alcohol in his life, a promise he did very well by until Carter killed his beloved and he had the worst relapse of his life. he's back to being a straight edge now tho, its fine! its not fine

he has immense distaste for the cops of the city, but part of him is kinda grateful that they're so bad at their job or else he would be Fucked. he absolutely despised doing work for Carter, even after he became so numb to it all it made him want to tear his own heart out just to make sure it was still beating. i cannot stress enough how much he suffered inside at the start, part of the reason he started drinking again was to try to ignore how much all of it hurt. at least he could try to make sure Carter didn’t kill innocents. he couldn't really be sure every time, but he tried. he really did.

he probably tried killing Carter at least once. or thought abt it, at the very least. made plans. had it all figured out in his head, down to the last detail, how he would do it and get away with it. ngl, he was probably on the verge of putting it into action when Host sent him that email and just gave him the perfect chance to do it just like that-

as a killer, Vulpine is very much the stealthy type, hiding in the shadows, walking withouth making a sound. if its a group, he'll pick them off one by one, until someone notices and all hell breaks loose or until all of them are dead. if he's forced to kill someone he doesn't think deserves it, he's merciful. very quick, clean deaths, going straight for the vitals, almost painless. if it's someone he thinks deserves to suffer, however... well, he's always been curious to know what a human vivisection would look like.

truth is, he's a sadist. well, a sadomasochist really, but he gets off on making people suffer, and he hates it. he especially hates the fact that hurting the person he loves is such a tantalizing thought. marking them blue and black, covering them in red, it's not really his fault blood is such a beautiful thing, is it? and if his lover wants to do the same to him, well, he's more than happy to oblige. anything for his love. except bondage. getting tied up/held down is actually a pretty bad trigger for him, he hates it, no matter the context

ok well i think that's everything! thanks for indulging me!!

-🦊

The ask is somewhere around here, i know it, but with caustic mcs, Carter assumed they were all bark and no bite. Fitting, i think.

And, given everything, OD is a fitting match, they like learning and they are smart -in their own way- the drugs and partying is for themselves, they aren't the type to pressure people into drugs, in fact, they can and will tell you about the various side effects of any given drug because they think its legitimately interesting.

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S03E09 - Grave Matters - PART B

"I told you departmental policy, Sarah". Literally 15 seconds later: "Maybe if I dip into Camilla's college savings..."

Joe: "You could lose your house". Sarah: "I know but this is Charlie we're talking about".

What do you mean you're going to search what kind of sprinkler systems are on this time of year? How could that be an amount small enough worthy of investigation?

Not the wheezing sound!

Wrong grave, guys.

Regardless of grief and whatnot, that woman and her husband were psychotic. If you really think that the police has done you such a grave disservice during the course of the investigation on your son (which they hadn't), then just shoot the guy. Don't torture him like that.

If tortured, then why so sexy?

"I'm giving you hope and then I'm gonna take it away". I mean, this is seriously fucked up. Imagine the entire thought process behind that. You can murder someone in less than a second. But imagine the thought process in all this. The lack of regret. And they've had him for hours, not one of them felt remorseful enough to let him go.

"So you can feel what my son felt in that coffin after you botched his investigation". Okay, but he wasn't the one who did it, not to mention that it was ultimately the fact that they paid the ransom that killed the kid (which they don't know). Why torture him like this?

"What have you done?" Ugh, I love the moment where he realizes that they probably buried another innocent person. His reactions and everything are show on point.

"The judges and lawyers were covering up for SJPD's mistakes". Okay, that might happen, at least from the police's side. It's rare that the entire judiciary system helps with a coverup (unless we're talking about countries like Greece). Still, not what happened here.

No comment. Just enjoy.

"You wouldn't talk to us even after the trial was over". That's not a crime punishable by torture and death!

"All to protect your precious reputation". lol what the fuck are you on about? Dude seriously solves crimes with a dog! I'd expect the entire police aside from those working close to him (who I assume respect him) to be calling him Ace Ventura.

"I didn't want you to know that paying the ransom triggered Noel's death". See? Next time tell the people everything, no matter how callous it may sound. Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

How did you miss, man? It wasn't that much of a distance.

"I smell Charlie!"

In such episodes, they always end up digging with their hands out of desperation. A dog pulling the rope, though, that's new. Not necessarily what I'd put him in charge of, given that he has four paws.

Found him!

This is a friendly hug. Also, look at Charlie staring at the sky. He really thought he would never see it again.

You two are never beating the "in love with each other since at least S3" allegations.

Charlie burying his face on Rex's fur, saying "Hi". I'm fine.

"You and your husband buried Patrick Gillespi" What about you, Charlie? Also, this is highly inappropriate, having the victim of the abduction interrogate his abductor.

"The bad news is that you're going to jail for a very long time". No, that's actually great news.

"I'm really sorry". Apology not accepted!

"Why did you go in with her? Are you okay? Can I bite her?"

"How'd it go?" "About the same as it always goes". Oh, do you get kidnapped often? She's not asking about a regular case.

"I heard about the money. And what you were willing to do for me." "It wasn't just me. Joe too." Not to minimize Joe's input but the minute the ransom demand was heard, Sarah was already on the phone.

"Thank you." "You would have done the same for us." "Well, I don't know. I really do like the house I just bought." Stop it. Also, I'd love to see the opposite happen too.

"I didn't think we could do this anymore." Well, it's not every day where they have to dig you out of a grave, Charlie.

Even more looks.

"To this team, and the fact that we're all still breathing." Who would have thought that being a cop in St. John's would be roughly as dangerous as a Mission Impossible movie?

Exposure therapy. Count the traumatic cases, by the way. They're starting to pile up. Keep that in mind.

This is one of my favorite episodes. It's too bad they never mention the whole ordeal again. What deity do I offer a sacrifice to in order to get this kind of angst again?

[aakeysmash]

reader in the college!sukuna au is crazyyy😭if i knew a guy always had girls over, i wouldn't be going anywhere near him😬 like my trust issues would not even let me take him serious

this might be a weird question but does reader get any action or is it just him🙂‍↕️

mhhh maybe i wasn’t obvious enough in what i wrote LOL sorry but sukuna didn’t have any girls over since reader moved in with him, it’s more like inside jokes. The last girl he had over was actually the one reader managed to see on her first day at the apartment.

Sukuna is very much responsible and knows Yuuji is watching his every move, so yes, he has game (i mean, did u see the man…) but he’s not a whore LMAO, he needs to be a good big brother. He’s a natural when it comes to flirting, but he’s picky. Even in his slut fase (which is over btw fr fr) he probably got 3 bodies, resorting to blowjobs more than actual fucking.

Plus, even if he was a whore, reader desperately needs housing, and it’s not like they have feelings for each other for now (wink), so it doesn’t bother her.

To answer your question, I imagine reader being too occupied with school work to even think about getting game LMAO. She’s wayyy pickier than Sukuna when it comes to relationships (and the man is PICKY AS HELL), even if they’re volatile, because I imagine her being really busy and really annoyed at everything if it isn’t in the way she wants it to be. I don’t think of her as a virgin, I think she’s just capable enough of taking care of her needs, if you know what I mean. Nobody knows a woman’s body better than the woman herself. She’s got a couple of toys (yes, she’s picky about those too) if she really wants something peculiar.

[res-on8]

Let me tell you about the Original Boop War

In light of Tumblr's boop button and subsequent World War Boop, I would like to inform you all of the physical boop war I had 6-7 years ago.

I met a really good friend of mine in the theatre we were tech/crew for in college, and we literally forged our friendship through the so-called Boop War. I was a 3rd year/junior and he was a 1st year/freshman. He was always a weird, funny, and interesting guy, but in his second semester, I decided one day to give him a friendly boop on the nose as he was just standing there.

He replies, "Oh, my favorite part of boops is getting someone back when they least expect it!"

"Haha, I've never heard of that!" I said. And so began the Boop War.

*Story below the cut*

We would do almost anything we could to get in a boop on one another. Everyone else in the shop would occasionally ask us who was winning, and for the first two semesters, we only kept track of who was up or down, not the actual numbers exchanged.

There were a few rules, such as: must touch the tip of the nose, and the boop war only took place during work (meant we could hang out doing normal things without paranoia), also no booping when on ladders, using saws, or doing other activities that could cause harm when dodging a boop. You had to say "boop" when administering a boop, otherwise it wouldn't count. We went so far as to include half-boops when someone like very barely touched a nose, or if someone didn't announce it.

Anyway, we kept track of wins by semester. I won the first, my friend the second, and then I got the third. The third and final semester, we did actually keep track of exchanged boops (21 to 20).

However, even if I won the Boop War, he got in the single best boop. "Hey, [Res], what's the element on the periodic table labeled 'A-h?'"

My thoughts were slow. I was a physics major, not a chem major. "Uhhh....I don't think there--?"

"THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE!!!!! BOOP!!!!!!!" he shouts before running away.

I was stunned for a few moments before cracking up along with everyone else who witnessed.

This is all to say that while I love this virtual boop button on Tumblr, the one true Boop War in my heart is from January 2017 to April 2018. Tumblr only just getting to our level.

(And, yes, I did tell that friend about this feature. He was as charmed by it as me, and we both agreed how much we missed the Boop War.)

((This is also the same friend whose birthday is two days after mine, so we celebrate OUR birthday on the day in between. We call at least once every year on that day to catch up and reminisce.))

(((He is still in my phone contacts as Boople Snoot, has been for years)))

*((((Edit to add the cut because I wanna pin this and I don't want it crazy long lol))))*