#but just a quick skim through the blog has me emotional!!!

[bitchslapblastoids]

utterly overwhelmed blown away by the works created for the @phandomgiftexchange man what an absolute privilege to be part of a fandom with so many extraordinarily creative people who are so generous with their creativity. beautiful project & beautiful people

[gublershrry]

I’ll Be Watching You • B.E.

Summary: Billie has had her eye on you for awhile, you don’t know just how far she’ll go to get you.

Warnings: violence (dv from a m*n), psycho!billie, stalker!billie, ummm murder?, sorta bimbo!reader, age gap (not mentioned but billies a few years older)

Authors note: hi guys I’m trying to write so more ppl see my posts and blog and follow me so i can make friends Lol. I hope u enjoy!

The wind blew through your hair as you walked home from work. The chilly fall weather was soothing, but you could feel your cheeks turning red the closer it got to sunset. You walk in the door at 6:34pm on the dot, bending down to pet your cats before tossing your keys in the dish by the front door and sliding your shoes off.

He followed you inside, his arm on your back.

You didn’t notice the girl across the street watching your every move from her garage, where she was pretending to focus on her exercises.

You just waltzed into your home, into her sight, oblivious as ever. It was kind of cute to her, how clueless you had been for the past 3 months.

You didn’t bother to wonder who could’ve been watching through your bedroom window. She saw it all. She watched your midnight dances in your tight little tank tops and matching underwear. She watched you study, enamored by the way your eyes squinted when you focused. The way you nibbled on your pen, probably so confused because your little head could only process so much. She watched you fuck him, how short and unpleasant it looked. How quick he was, how he never paid attention to you.

You never once closed the blinds, the curtain, or shied away from the window frame.

It’s like you wanted her to keep watching, she felt like you were inviting her into your home. You wanted this. You wanted her. So, she did what anyone who felt wanted would do.

She gave you want you wanted. She never stopped watching, never stopped taking mental notes on your every action, your every emotion.

So when she saw him take you upstairs, she thought she knew what she was about to watch. She mentally prepared for the 4 minutes she was about to endure.

She watched you stand on your tippy toes, your entire body in frame, as you tried to find a specific set of lingerie in your drawer. You wanted to look sexy for him.

For him? Or for her.

It almost reminded her of the first time she saw you, when you were walking home from your job at the café in the quaint little town you lived in.

You accidentally let your cat out of the house, and it climbed up into a tall bush in front of the house. She watched your struggle, your short limbs unable to reach the poor cat’s hiding spot. She watched as you looked around, wondering if anyone could help you. She watched as you skimmed over her, not even noticing the pale, black haired girl who was pretending to work out in her garage. She just kept lifting the dumbbells, wondering how dumb you were.

Silly little thing, she thought. What a silly, little girl.

She placed the dumbbells down and put her headphones onto her collarbone, wiping the sweat from under her nose before crossing the street to your house. You turned quickly, hearing the leaves rustle as someone approached you. You jumped slightly when you heard the deep yet smooth voice from behind you.

“Need a little help, babe?”

You turn over your right shoulder, seeing what you think is the most beautiful girl in the world. Her eyes pierced yours, her teeth glimmering in the sunset lighting, her skin bright and so clear. You stutter over yourself, looking up at her. Her clothes stuck to her chest with sweat, her arms glistening and her bra strap just barely hanging out of the tank top she was in.

“Y- yes please! My cat, my stupid little cat, she got stuck in this bush! I knew I shouldn’t have opened the door so wide, my music just made me completely forget about real life! I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry!” You ramble to the stranger in front of you.

“Hey, hey, shh,” she says, calming you down although now her own heart rate is through the roof. “I’ll get the poor kitty, you just go inside.”

You oblige, running in to make sure your other cat was okay. You watch through a front window as she climbs into the bush to get your scared little fuzzball, your heart swelling with appreciation. She pets Oscar’s (your cat’s) head lovingly before smiling at you through the window. You come back outside, your smile wide and your eyes bright, practically skipping to get your cat from the sweet stranger who lived across the street.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! Seriously I owe you! That could’ve really scratched you up!” You say, looking at the light red scratches on her upper arm from the twigs in the bush.

“Really, it’s no problem. I’m right across the street if you need anything. The name’s Billie.”

You smile at the girl, and although you feel bad for interrupting her workout, you believe her sentiment. You introduce yourself to her before she walks back across the street, slipping her headphones on before laying down on the bench and lifting the dumbbells again.

And that, that was the last interaction you two had.

To your knowledge, at least.

Billie, on the other hand, became obsessed with you. Watched your every move. Watched where you drove, watched when you came home, watched who you invited into your house. She was intrigued by your innocence, by your trustfulness to have people in your house without knowing what they would do. Without knowing their true intentions. Without knowing that she was watching everything.

So when she watched you pick out a little lace bra, with the cutest little bow in the front, she took a deep breath, slouching down in her chair, feeling herself get hot.

She watched you bend over, ass toward the window, as you pulled your old pair of panties off. She watched your back arch, your cute little ass right on display for her. She watched you slip on the matching thong to the bra she saw you choose, biting her thumb and taking mental photos of you. She never wanted this to end.

But then, she saw something that she never expected to see.

She saw that man, that boy that had the luck of the draw with you, storm into your bedroom and slap you across the face. She watched as you tumbled over, your hand immediately holding the sting on your cheek. Billie shot up out of her chair, full of shock, which quickly turned into anger. She watched as he pulled his fist back again, but she quickly pulled the blinds. She wouldn’t watch anymore. She physically couldn’t.

Billie paced her room for an hour, peeking out of her front window every few minutes, checking if he was still there. If your light had shut off, if the blinds were closed, if he was gone.

Finally, at 10:12pm, she watched as he stormed out of your room. You were sitting on the bed, sobbing, with your face red from tears and your arms bruised from him. She watched you get up to turn the light off, and then she watched him exit your house.

She knew exactly what she had to do.

She couldn’t do it today, it’d be too obvious, she thought. But she started to watch him instead. She knew everything about him in the span of 24 hours.

Where he worked, his address, his parents, the name of his first pet, his license plate, his first grade teacher.

Billie found it all.

So it was no accident when she drove to the mechanic shop 2 days later. She pulled into the parking lot across the street, watching everyone leave their job for the night. But when she laid her eyes on him, her heart sped up. She was excited.

Billie was ready to kill the man that hurt you, all while you were watching a cozy show in your cute little bedroom, oblivious to it all.

She followed him to a gas station, and as he got out of his shitty little car, she pounced. The station was empty, the night was silent, and she made sure nobody would hear him scream. The hood she used around his head was full of chloroform, so his weak little body went limp in her arms in a matter of seconds. She shoved him into the backseat of her car, and sped home.

As she pulled in, she watched you dig into your bowl of popcorn in your bedroom, your eyes never leaving the screen. How ironic that the movie you were watching was Scream. How festive.

When she pulled into the garage and dragged his unconscious body into her basement, she tied him up to the chair and felt herself get excited. It had been a minute since she had been in this position, ready to kill for a girl. That’s why she had to move into your neighborhood in the first place.

She waited 2 hours, perfecting her tools on the table, waiting for him to wake up. So when he did, and he realized where he was (or realized he didn’t know where he was) the boy started to scream. He wailed and cried, looking at the knives in front of him, feeling his hands and legs tied down.

“Shut up you pussy.” Billie said, almost laughing at his pleas for her to not hurt him. “You fucking hurt my girl, so I’m gonna fucking kill you, alright?”

And so, she did exactly that.

She turned on her speaker in the basement, singing to herself some old classic rock, grabbing her favorite switchblade out of the 4 she had on her tray.

Her feet crinkled the tarp that lay underneath her and your boyfriend.

His eyes locked with hers one last time before she took the knife across his throat, watching the blood spill out of his stupid, ugly body.

Billie carved out his organs, ripping his beating heart out of his chest and holding it up in pride after an hour of torture. Holding the little bitch’s life in her hands, the little bitch that had the audacity to hurt you.

She smiled to herself, thinking of you and how happy you’d be to know he’s gone.

She saved you.

All of this happening while you snuggled up in your bed on the cozy October night, dreaming of the girl you had met that one time from across the street.

Dreaming of the girl who just murdered your boyfriend.

🙂🙂🙂 sorry guys but i felt spooky and im def gonna make a part 2 or make this a series or something if you want it. Also i didnt proofread so sorry

[twistnet]

stacked claim [ bradley bradshaw ]

⋯ KINKTOBER PROMPT ; day 10 [ creampie ]

⋯ WARNINGS ; gn!reader, smut [ creampies, fingering, finger sucking, unprotected sex, jealous//needy!bradley, slight breeding kink, cum, dirty talk ] + mature language

⋯ NOTE ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post // masterlist will be blocked

bradley bradshaw wasn’t jealous. sure -- if you had asked anyone else in the hard deck to describe the intense look that had come across his face the second jake seresin’s hand came skimming along your hip in a flirtatious manner, the quick and probably most accurate answer would have been jealous.

no, bradley bradshaw wasn’t jealous, but he sure as hell was protective of what was his. and maybe that’s why he had quickly whisked the two of you out of the bar without so much as a goodbye to the rest of the aviators he flew with.

he was oddly quiet throughout the ride to your shared home. only keeping his eyes locked on the road ahead of him with a tight grip on the steering wheel. you had tired to get a conversation started, trying to gauge the emotions that were running through him in the moment, but it seemed useless as he gave simple one worded answers.

once his bronco was parked in the driveway, you followed him up to the front door. only just crossing the threshold before the door is closing behind you and bradley is crowding you up against the wood.

his lips press roughly against your own, tongue slipping into your mouth at your sudden gasp of surprise. you melt back against the door, hands moving to tangle through his hair as his own grasp at your hips to keep you pressed between him and the door.

hands eventually begin to roam, sliding from your hips up the length of your torso to palm and grip at your chest, pulling whimpers from your lips as you break from the kiss, head dropping back against the door with a thud. 

bradley takes advantage, moving his lips down to your jaw -- leaving little nips and licks behind as he trails down to your pulse point and the sweet spot that he just knows makes you see stars.

“roos...” you moan, eyes slipping shut as bradley chuckles against the skin of your neck. already in the process of mouthing another mark into your skin, “that’s right, baby... it’s me who’s making you feel good. definitely not jake fucking seresin, hm?”

oh. that’s what this was about.

“never...” you swallow harshly, “only want you roos...” the words seem to please him as he backs away from you enough to look into your eyes, “you have no fucking clue how fucking hot that sounds coming from you... fuck! i gotta have you...”

then, he’s gripping your hand, shooting you a suave smile over his shoulder as he pulls you towards the bedroom at the back of the house. and even if bradley hadn’t grabbed your hand, you still would have eagerly followed after him as this man always seemed to have some trick up his sleeve that he was more than eager to show you.

once in the safety of your bedroom, he quickly spun you around. pulling you against his chest and guiding you back until the backs of your legs hit the mattress behind you. and then, ever so gently, bradley laid you back and guided you towards the pillows.

he hovered over you, hands stationed on either side of your head as he peered down at you with a soft smile, “god... can’t believe you’re all mine...” he mutters, before swopping down to capture your lips once more.

hands tugging and grasping at the your clothes, pulling them off and out of the way so he can feel the softness of your skin against his rough and corse hands -- built from all those years of flying around in f-18s. but he knows just the scrape of his fingers against your skin is enough to drive you wild.

and it has the reaction that he’s looking for, as you arch up into his touch with soft little whimpers escape through the seam of your lips and wild eyes watching his every move.

they trail down the length of your body until they reach your hole, a shuttering groan on his part as he watches you clench around nothing and he's quick to sip two fingers into his mouth -- soaking them throughly, before pressing a single finger into you slowly.

you mewl, hips jutting up to take more of him in as he coos softly at you. spare hand caressing the outside of your thigh before lips press against the inside of your knee with a soft hum, “who’s got you all worked up, baby? tell me...” 

“you do, roos...” the answer brings another proud smile to his lips, head nodding in agreement as he drops another kiss to the inside of your knee, “damn right, baby...” his words followed by the press of a second finger into your tight hole.

he works you open, padding at the sweet spot along your walls, wanting you nothing but ready to take his cock. and he’s taking in every little movement you make, committing it all the memory and filing it away with all the other moments the two of you have shared together -- giving him something to always remember when he goes away for long periods of time. all things jake seresin will never get to see.

the thought has his jaw tightening, and a harsh breath pushed from his nostrils before his slipping his fingers from you. hastily working himself out of his own clothing, cock springing from the confines of his boxer briefs. he gasps lightly at being exposed to the cool air, before he’s giving himself a few good strokes.

“god... i could come just like this... fucking looking at you all fucked out from just my fingers...” he mewls, but shakes his head clear of the thoughts before a hand settles at your hip, the blunt and large head of his cock pressing against your entrance and begins to gently ease himself in, “fuck! how are you always so fucking tight?” he mutters in the room, not expecting an answer. 

“god, you always take me so fucking well... like you were made for this cock. my cock.” he coos once he’s fulled seated inside of you, relishing the soft cry you give as his hips tentatively swivel and let you adjust for a few moments. then, he’s slowly sliding out and back in. his hands nicely grip your hips, pulling and pushing you to meet every one of his thrusts. the pace only quickening when you give a happy keening sound and he practically slams into you.

“look at you... so pretty and all for me.” bradley grunts as he thrusts into you, working to set a swift pace and taking great enjoyment in how your face goes slack from pleasure, “let me hear how good i’m making you feel...”

his words are met with soft, small and desperate moans that rapidly increase with each quickened thrust of bradley’s hips. you’re starting to grab at him now, arms already hooked around the back of his neck, tugging him in almost impossibly close with blunt nails biting into the upper part of his shoulders.

you’re heads tossed back against the pillows, a blissful expression already dawned across your features as unabashedly moans leave your lips. yeah, jake seresin wishes he could see you like this.

“tell me...” he huffs, hand reaching up to grasp at your chin and pull you down to look him in the eyes, “tell me jake seresin wouldn’t be able to fuck you like this...” he growls, lip curling into a snarl as his hips continue to fuck into you with added fervor.

“he could try... but he can’t make you cum like i do...” bradley grunts, the grip on your hips tightening as he smiles down at where the both of you are joined, “his cock won’t stretch you out like mine does... he doesn’t know how to make you feel good, or what turns you into a crying, pathetic mess. only i know how to do that...”

“you’re mine... aren’t you baby?” he questions, looks up at you this time. wanting to hear you say it -- wanting to let your words chase the doubt away, “all yours, roo.” you gasp out, face twisting in pleasure as he repeatedly rams against your sweet spot that has your toes curling.

bradley nods, “that’s right, baby... all mine.” it feels like the air has been pushed from bradley’s lungs and he’s aware of the pulsing feeling that’s running through his system. and in moments, drops his head against his chest as his hips pick up in speed to the points he’s hammering into you.

“god... baby, will you let me cum in you? fuck. let me stuff you so full...” he whimpers out, hips rutting into yours almost frantically. his chest is flushed a bright red, and sweat is always heavy at his brow -- meaning he’s so close to coming it’s not even funny. however, he gasps harshly when you clench around him, “you want that, baby? let me fuck you full and have you feeling me for days? please say you want that...”

“i want it, roos! fuck! i want it!” you sob out, eyes twisting shut as your words seem to open the flood gates and bradley moaned loudly as he came, thrusting to a hilt as he pumped your hole full of cum. you own orgasm following seances after, with your walls squeeze every little bit from him that you could.

the second bradley was able to catch his breath, he sat up and gently pulled himself from you. rubbing your thighs when you gasped at the sudden loss of him before his eyes trailed down to your hole and a smile appeared on his face, “another thing jake seresin couldn’t do even if he tried...” he mutters, mostly to himself but you hear it clear as day. opening your mouth to question him when two fingers swipe the come leaking from your hole and push it back into you.

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[spookysmujer]

Maraschino pt.2, O. Diaz

Summary: After the rejection from Oscar, things seems to take you on a roller coaster ride. 

warnings: angst, f e e l s, theTEAbeenSPILLED ☕️ daddy issues

word count: 3.5K

a/n: Here is the highly requested part 2 of Maraschino! I had fun writing this though if it is trash it’s because I wanted to hurry and get it out for y’all since I been getting msgs. heh. But Ray? Whew chile, the ghetto! Part 3? Please enjoy and don’t forget: follow the blog, heart/comment/reblog the content as well as turn on the notifs! (Y/S/N: your sister’s name)

(gif belongs to @thesewickedhands​ ✨)

 “Have a wonderful day!”

God, why is the person yelling? You smile weakly and squeeze your eyes nearly shut as the sun is blazing down on you while you say your thanks and exit the uber. The throbbing of your head and the loud lawnmower from one of your neighbors has you internally cursing.

How did you end up like this? Granted this was the plan last night to go out and have a good time, you certainly did not expect to be doing such a thing. You never let yourself get to this point before. But you also never got denied like you did with Spooky last night. A shiver goes through your body as you think of him. You won’t let him infiltrate your mind no more.

“Y/N!” Your sister’s voice sounds frantically as you round the corner of the house.

Well there goes your plan to sneak in through your window to pretend you were in your room all along. She wraps your arms around you, gluing herself to your body causing you to stumble back a bit. “You are a dead woman walking!” She whispers to you as you arch an eyebrow at her. 

As confused as you were, José appears from around the corner taking long strides towards you. His face sports no emotion of missing you but a lot of anger. It causes you to automatically back up the closer his approaches you. Your sister has since removed herself from you as your brother is now in your face.

You blink as you peer up at him, “Where the fuck have you been, hermana? You know how much shit you are in, hm? I get a call from Y/S/N saying you aren’t home. I assure her you would be and when she calls me at 6 in the morning telling me that you still aren’t in? You left a note?”

“José! Calmate, I went out with a friend. And I spent the night. What’s the big deal about that?” You briefly explain yourself. He laughs for a moment before grabbing you by your upper arm and pulling you towards your sister. Now it’s her turn to start backing up, “Ven aqui, her! That’s the big deal. When I ask you to be the sister you need to be, I don’t mean when you feel like it. You know the Santos have been getting into heavy shit lately. I need you here when I’m not!” 

The tension is thick as you pull your arm from his hold and push him, “But when you wanna go and do whatever it’s okay? When you wanna hitch a ride with Spooky to Sin City with dirty ass hynas last week, it’s all good. Business trip, huh? Don’t come for me when you are far from perfect!” 

The two of you are both very stubborn with your brother usually being calm and collected while you’re more expressive with your feelings. Family is important to him especially considering it’s just the three of you. Jose scoffs as you stomp away from him and your now crying sister. 

Oscar suddenly appears in front of you as round the corner and collides with his body. He reaches out to grasp you before you can stumble back, the feelings hitting you all at once, “What are you doing here?” You swallow thickly.

He licks his bottom lip as his eyes rake over your body. Still in your dress from last night, hair unruly and make-up smudged. Anyone can spot a ‘walk of shame’ when they see one. He laughs internally thinking of how you wasted no time after last night’s rejection.

“I offered to drive him when little hermanita called up again worried you weren’t home yet. Seems we know why now.” A small grin painted across his lips, you squint your eyebrows at his words as you hear your brother approaching the two of you. You step back before Spooky migrates his eyes to behind you, “We got business, everything good here?”

José nods and steps beside you, “Don’t be leaving.”

The two guys leave as you stand there a bit dumbfounded. Y/S/N appears next to you and grabs your hand. She apologizes for you getting into trouble with José. You want to yell at her for starting unnecessary drama. But she explains she didn’t want your brother to potentially find out about your little sneaky link with Spooky.

“Well, he and I ended that shit so nothing to worry about. I went out and got wasted. I am done with these guys. No más!” Though even sounding like fake news to yourself, you go and wash off last night’s memories. 

As the day had gone by, you skimmed through your daily journal of all the entries you wrote about Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz, ripping them out. All 6 pages. You roll your eyes at your thoughts about him, some sappy and some nasty. How did you believe a man who runs a street gang, that is as mean mugging as Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, would be into you the way you are him?

It didn’t matter the answer now. Good riddance of him! That’s when the sound of your window opening pulls you from the wandering thoughts. You stand up quickly, reaching for a bat that’s besides your bed. “Get the fuck out!”

“Calmate! It’s me, Oscar.”

You clutch your chest, doubling over to catch your breath. “What is wrong with you? Ever think of flying a pebble at the window or calling first?” You say as he climbs in, adjusting his flannel before closing the window then your room door. You watch him as he starts to look around your room. Though there’s a part of you that wants him out, you haven’t made any advances to get him out.

He sits on your bed and finally looks at you, “Abajo.”

Uncompliant, you cross your arms and shift your weight to make it known you are fine standing there. He smirks and looks away before locking eyes with you. “You don’t think I like you too? You think I fucked with you for this long cause it was just convenient? Girls everywhere around my place but I was only fucking you. Why do you think that?”

“Is this supposed to be your sweet confession that makes me go all heart eyes? You're gonna apologize and I’m supposed to forgive you and then we give us a try and realize all our worries were nothing but fear that our anxiety instilled in our heads? Because that’s not how it’s gonna go.” You say as he gives you a semi-disgusted look.

You chuckle softly and watch him intently.

Oscar analyzes you closely. It’s a front, no doubt he thinks. He doesn’t deny the thought that you are a thick-skinned woman. He knows you have a superior mind and a mouth to go with it but he knows there is no way that you could’ve gotten over him that quick. Though judging by your appearance earlier in the day, you definitely tried.

You laugh a little more as you step in front of him and lean over to get your vision in line with his. “You made it clear to me and now I’m making it clear. Nothing you say will convince me that you give a rat’s ass about me. If you really did? There would be no sneaky link shit. You wouldn’t have a problem with people knowing about me, or my brother knowing but it is a problem so get out.”

This ticks Ocscar off a bit. He stands which makes you straighten up as he gets in your face, stepping towards you. You are stepping back slowly as he creeps more, “You think you can handle this lifestyle? The constant threats, the territories? You can’t. When it comes to this kind of life, something like love can be the bane of your existence. So we don’t get into it. We don’t get involved because the people we fall for end up dead.”

You’re pressed with your back against the wall and your chests against each other. Oscar’s eyebrows are connected and he’s staring at your agape mouth. His breath is fanning against your lips, emotions hitting you all at once. “I-I slept with someone last night. Got it good too.”

The jealous tactic seems to fail immediately as Oscar laughs. And for some reason the look of amusement on his face seems to be familiar for a reason you can’t seem to figure out.

“Sleeping around is simple, falling for someone is something else entirely. I’m not saying that we jump into something. But at least you know now it’s not just one-sided.” He steps out of your room. You follow and watch him walk down the hall as Y/S/N stands there. She is stunned seeing Oscar nonchalantly trek through the house.

You don’t know what to say. As you look at your little sister, you sigh in defeat trying to explain this one. Instead you go back into your room and shut your door. You got what you wanted, right? But you still feel like something is missing. 

The week had slowly crept on.

A few shifts at the bodega, classes at the community college and life at home. Jose had basically converted you back to your teenage ways. Making sure you were doing your part in parenting your little sister. Friday night Y/S/N wanted to have Dwayne’s BBQ for dinner and since your social life is drier than your skin, you agree. 

The thought of a  BBQ bacon cheeseburger lifts your mood which has been dragging throughout the week. Your sister happily skips into the restaurant as you trail behind slowly, when you enter you look for her and see she chatting up with Dwayne. 

“Y/N!” José calls out and your vision unfocuses from them onto your brother and pile of Santos in a booth. They all look your way including Oscar. You exhale a deep breath through your nose as you put on a fake smile and wave before stepping up to place an order. 

 Your brother approaches you as you look past him to the booth of Santos, “Didn’t know you guys would be here.” He sets down a $20 bill on the counter when the cashier tells you the total. “Foos gotta eat too.” José starts talking to you about something but your focus falls back on Spooky again. You watch as he stands and makes his way towards you. A small panic sets in your chest but fades away as he ends up exiting the BBQ joint. 

Unknowingly to yourself, your watch as he walks to his car. He leans against it and pulls out a cigarette, no matter how hard you try to avert your eyes from him, you can’t. All week you had been doing fine. Even with the little things reminding you of him, even with the memories that have been seeped into your bed. You didn’t dwell too much on thinking of him until you see him now. 

“Talk to him.” 

It’s just like the movies where the car tires come to a screeching halt and there’s the obnoxious crashing sound. You move your eyes to your brother’s. Did he just say what you think he said? “Talk to him? Spooky, what for? Why would I need to talk to him?”

Jose chuckles, “Hermana, I had my suspicions about you two. Then he told me bout it, he acts like it doesn’t bother him much but it does so go talk to him. Yeah, I’m not so thrilled that he’s messing around with my baby sister. I know how he is but I know he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you so I’m cool with it. So go talk to him, figure that shit out because I’m getting over you moping around the house.”

You push him away as you look back to the red impala.  After a moment of contemplating it, you decide to head out and approach Oscar, he had his eyes on you since he settled by his car. You lean on it besides him and cross your arms, “You told my brother?”

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. You try your best to keep the smug look off your face. He holds out the cigarette, you take it and inhale. Coughing a bit as the smoke burns your throat a little. You hand it back and sigh, turning to look at him.

“I like you, you like me. I’m not saying we jump into something… but why not?” You question as he exhales some smoke, you lock your eyes into his, “You ain’t cut for this lifestyle, you would be a liability. Plus your brother in my line of work? That makes him vulnerable as well. It woul--”

You groan loudly which quiets him mid-rant, “Drugs, alcohol and money do all the same things to him too. You see how he is when he gets wasted. There are so many things that make you all vulnerable. If he can make it work with the hyna he’s with, then you can make it work with me. Plus I know this lifestyle more than you think. I know when and where to be and not to be. I know who to know and who not to know. I know things! So don’t act all big bad Spooky to me.”

Now standing directly in front of him and he’s peering down at you. He dips his face lowers and looks at your lips as you look at his. In no time your lips are connected. Oscar slides his hands over your waist, gripping it and pushing you flush against him. You bring your hands to cup his face, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. A full on make-out session breaks out.

As if you didn’t dream of something like this happening you smile into the kiss, pulling away, “You get into this with me, it’s not gonna be glitter and gold. This shit is tough, I can’t be worrying about the things I already do plus you.” You nod and kiss him again, wringing your arms around his neck, he hugs you and feels calm for the first time in a while.

So you enjoy the night more than you thought you would be. With your siblings and the Santos at Dwayne’s. After a night of chatting, Oscar asks you to come back to his place. And well since it isn’t your first rodeo, you agree and send Y/S/N home with José. 

You don’t keep your hands off him while heading back to his place, you are pressed against him and kissing his neck, he is loving every moment of it. The both of you get out to head into the house but the mood is killed when you walk in to find Cesar and his friends on the couch who get frightened due to the scary movie playing on the TV.

Oscar cursing under his breath, “Can’t you watch movies at some else’s house?” You elbow him as he rolls his eyes. But Cesar didn’t want to start anything with his older brother so he asks Jamal if they can continue watching at his house. Soon after the house is empty and quiet again. The two of you settle on the couch, you straddling him and pulling your top off.

“Yo! There’s someone posted up outside!” Cesar suddenly bursts through the door which causes Oscar to push you off him and reach for his gun. He tells the younger Diaz, his friends and you to stay put as he checks out the fool that runs up on the Santo trap house. You scramble to put your shirt back on and curse when Cesar trails after his brother. You follow in pursuit, trying to tell Cesar that Oscar said to stay inside. “Who is that?” 

“Ray?” You say out loud though you thought you were just thinking it.

Oscar turns to you when you say the name of none other than his estranged father. You look to both Ray and Oscar, looking at the two men and making the connection. You feel the color get sucked out of your face, oh fuck.

“You know him, who is he?” Cesar asks you and he looks at Oscar. The Santo leader has his eyes on you and is still confused as to how the hell you know his father. “He’s our father.” Oscar says, still looking at you.

The confirmation makes you want to be obliterated right in your very spot. This can’t be happening! Is it? You try to speak but nothing comes out of your mouth. You finally look to Ray who has a small smirk on his face and that’s why that look Oscar had on his face that day seemed so familiar. You saw it that night you went out of town to have a good time. 

“Hola de nuevo, pequeña coyote.” Ray says looking at you. 

You grimace as Oscar connects the dots himself. The amount of heat that settles into your face along with the gasps from Cesar’s friends don’t make it any easier to bear.

“Wait Oscar, wait!” He is stepping towards his father, ready to charge. “I didn’t know he was your dad! Listen to me, please!” You step forward quickly and pull his arm back, he yanks it out of your grasp quickly as you plead for him to listen to you.

Oscar begins to snap at you, “Him? This is who you slept with and you want me to listen to explain? Huh?!” The anger booms in his voice as he is mere inches from your face. Cesar appears next to you trying to get between the two of you. You didn’t think Oscar could ever get so mad. And you have seen the Santo leader in moments of rage before. 

“Mijo, listen..” 

Ray’s voice sounds from behind Oscar now. He turns and wastes no time in welcoming him with a right hook. His father stumbles back as you gasp along with the sounds from the teens. “Oscar!”

You take the initiative to stand between the two of them, holding out a hand against Oscar’s chest as he is heaving and exuding anger. Ray is mending to his jaw as he stands up. You notice the lights of the neighbor had turned on and people were beginning to pile outside of their homes to see all the commotion.

“Oscar just stop and listen to me for one fucking second! No, I did not sleep with Ray. We did get together that night, yes but we didn’t do anything that involves other body parts. I started going off about you with him, I vented and we spent the night drinking. I got too wasted and he offered to let me spend the night in his motel room. Nothing happened!” You release in one breath. 

Everyone looks at you, unable to make sense of the situation. 

“That’s why I came, when she mentioned things about you, I had to come see for myself if what niña said is true. That you’re running the Santos.” The two men stare at each other as you stand in the middle. Your heart is racing. 

Oscar doesn’t say anything as he looks back and forth between his father and you. When you step towards him and reach out to grab his hand, he raises his hand up in defense and steps back. You can see the glint of hurt in his eyes as he backs away from you. Your eyes pleading for him to try to understand everything.

You trail behind a fuming Oscar into his house, you are nearly jogging when you catch up with him. But he steps into his room and slams the door in your face. You step back and sigh. “Please talk to me…Oscar. Nothing happened, you have to believe me.” 

He doesn’t respond as you rest your head on his door. You hold your hands on the door silently cursing yourself. What could you say that made the situation sound better? How could you make it look like it really was nothing even with Ray right there?

A few moments have passed by when the door opens, a still very upset Oscar stands there as he flies forwards a bunch of crumbled paper at you. You watch as the papers fall to your feet and he slams the door in your face again. No context of nothing. 

When you pick up the papers, it’s drawings of you. Portraits sketched out from a ballpoint pen. Some dated as far back as a month ago to as recent as a few days ago. Oscar drew you. He did so multiple times and in such craft it takes your breath away. 

You feel the tears begin to well in your eyes. The pain that you have caused him. How do you fix this?

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss@princesstiffxoxo@firebenderwolf @spookysnena @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98@multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc@roury66 @kkim120 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3@starrynite7114 @onmyspookysblock @aneitii @b3mybunnybaby  @angelxfics  @spookysbabymama @ladylj @vayagrxce @irenne-stans @boujee-bitches (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

[sneezefiction]

soft nekoma sleepover

Nekoma x Reader - Sleepover Headcanons

a/n: the Nekoma portion of my soft sleepover series :,,) my friends and i have had rough weeks so far and i thought this would be a sweeter way to cope <33

warnings: none!

wc: 1280

---

you’ve always been such a strong person

whether you’d had a rough week full of assignments and exams or there was tension with your family/friends, you would always manage to hold your head up high and push through it all with a convincing smile on your face

but this past week finally pushed you over your limits

as you walked into Nekoma’s volleyball practice that Friday afternoon, manager’s clipboard in hand, you tried to keep up your usual peppy expression on

...but the smile refuses to reach your eyes

Yaku greets you warmly, expecting a big grin and a soft hug from you, but all you could do was ruffle his hair and walk quickly to your seat, holding in tears of frustration

this threw him for a loop and Yaku definitely asks you what’s wrong and if Lev did anything to upset you because, and i quote, 

“I will fight him right here, right now. Just say the word.”

you just shake your head and stand up to give him a quick, wordless hug, which only leaves him more confused?? because he wants to fix this and you’re being really quiet??

Kenma then notices your gloomy presence and mentions it to Kuroo who’s eyes snapped your way quizzically

you were clearly upset and, if they weren’t completely mistaken, you looked like you’d been… crying?

Kuroo wasn’t having it at all bc you, of all people, deserve to be happy & smiling

he calls the boys in for a huddle but Kuroo asks you to wait on the bench with that trademark sneaky smile on his face

as they all converse, you see heads pop up and turn around to glance at you, Lev and Yamamoto’s concerned expressions making it obvious that you were the topic of conversation

it became clear that, even without words, your misery hadn’t escaped them… you couldn’t decide whether it was a blessing or a curse

“Alright!” Kuroo’s volume gains your attention

everyone turns to you and you feel as though you’re shrinking under their gazes

“We have a proposition for you, Y/n…” Kenma explains quietly

“More like a demand, but whatever you say Kenma.” Kuroo cuts in, with a slight drawl

“How about you come over to my place tonight? We’ve not had a team sleepover since our last training camp and none of us are busy tonight.” the quiet setter finishes

Kenma sounds reluctant, his eyes shifting from the floor to the wall, avoiding your gaze as much as possible

yet one glance over to you reminds him why he’s offering up his precious Friday night

a real smile graces your previously downcast face, which makes all the boys go silent in awe of what a simple sleepover suggestion could do

now cut to Kenma’s house where he has two consoles of Mario Kart already set up bc it’s the only game that everyone on the team knows how to play

you get there last, much to your own dismay, because you had hoped to feel more settled before interacting with all of the boys again

just before you walked in, Inuoka made sure that everyone was smiling, welcoming, and that there’d be no fights (@ Yaku)

and the team agreed that tonight was all about you: their precious manager who really needed some encouragement and fun in their life

the moment you set foot inside, you’re met with cheery faces, bowls of popcorn, “cards against humanity” on the table, and a spot on the sofa (that you have to assume is meant just for you)

everybody looks SO DAMN COMFY:

Kai, Kuroo, Lev and Fukunaga are in name brand sweatpants and soft t-shirts, Shibayama, Inuoka, and Yaku are in clean workout shorts, Kenma is in a trendy sweatshirt and the rest of him is covered by a weighted blanket, and Yamamoto & Teshiro are in their volleyball uniforms from earlier (ew)

you get a quick nod and a brief smile from Kenma (basically Kenma was never meant to be a Professional Host™), but the rest of the boys are ✨Beaming✨ as you look them over

and your heart swells because this is exactly what you needed. to be in the presence of these sweet, granted kinda sweaty, guys where there were no goals or deadlines to be met

Kuroo’s grin quickly catches your eye and he pats the open couch seat next to him

and conversations take off smoothly and sweetly, the airspace full of friendly taunts, crude jokes, and screams from Lev’s being hit by 3 blue shells in a single game of Mario Kart

after several hours of you beating their asses with Princess Peach on Rainbow Road, everyone ends up splayed out across each other for the sake of comfort

your head found its way to Kuroo’s lap (the two of you being both third years, classmates, and close friends) and his hands move to give you a much needed scalp massage

you feel the weight of the world melt off your shoulders. it’s like one night was all you needed to clear your head and at least help you back onto your feet

with your legs dangling off the arm of the couch, Kuroo’s hand now just gently stroking your arm, you decide to thank them for tonight as best you could, because you’ve not felt this happy in what seems like months

“I just want to let you kids know that you’re all the best.” you cut through everyone’s conversations, voice resting on their ears for a moment

“And, uh, not to be disgustingly cheesy… but I really love you guys.”

you cover your eyes, acting as though you were embarrassed, but in reality you feel tears threatening to spill out

Kuroo’s expression falls for a moment, because he’s not stupid and can tell you’re still processing everything

so he simply lifts your hands off of your eyes and you, with a perfect tear skimming the side of your face, can’t help but let out a soft, relieved laugh

it’s silent for a second, but Kuroo just smiles & opens his mouth to say something

but he’s interrupted by some rude-ass kids (Yamamoto & Inuoka) shouting out their love for you and rushing over to smother you in tearful hugs

you’re saved by Yaku, who’s grabbed them both by the backs of their shirts, stopping them in their emotional, hug-giving tracks

but your giggles continue, now laughing at all their surprised expressions and Kuroo’s peeved one from getting cut-off

so you hop up off the couch, place your hands on your hips and allow their eyes to rest on you before swinging your arms open wide with the sweetest, most genuine smile you can muster

“Well, are y’all gonna come hug me, or should I just go now?”

queue a small stampede of boys tackling you (gently) to the floor, laughter bubbling from every mouth, and warmth that spreads from the outside, in

in between the chuckles, shoves, and “get off of me’s” you hear a phrase tumble out of Kenma’s mouth

“We love you too, y/n.”

it was supposed to be unheard, lost in the tumbling around you, but those three words then took traction in individual ways with different boys

“We love you!” 

“I love ya.” 

“You’re kinda okay, I guess...”

“Marry me, y/n!”

“Shut up, Yamamoto!”

you would always have a place with them, no matter how bad things got and no matter what anyone said about you

because whenever you needed them, they’d be sure to show up, just as you’d do for them

---

soft team sleepover series

soft shiratorizawa sleepover

soft karasuno sleepover

soft seijoh sleepover

soft fukurodani sleepover

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies, @vintgicals, @moonlightaangel, @kit-tea, @theworldupthere, @sugasugawarau, @star-puff, @akaashisupremacy

(comment, dm, or send an ask to be added to my general tag list - blogs in bold could not be tagged) 

[idreamofplaid]

I Know You

Summary: Sometimes Sam needs to be reminded he needs more than books.

Characters: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 2145

A/N: I couldn’t find this one on my blog when I made my Masterlist so I’m reposting it now. There’s so much dirty talk and a slightly dom reader with a happy to switch Sam.

Sam’s discipline is a part of who he is. He keeps everything locked down. He eats clean. Sugar, preservatives, and “bad” fats never cross his ever so tempting lips. He monitors his thoughts and feelings, careful not to let too much out. It’s easy to miss this because Sam is so good at getting other people to talk with his deep, gentle voice and soft eyes. Sam understands; the very way he carries himself points to that. Pain is something the man you love is all too familiar with and has been since he came back from hell all those years ago.

Sam’s holding something inside tonight. He’s noticeably quieter than usual. His reflective mind was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, but sometimes it’s necessary to pull Sam out of his thoughts, unlock his emotions, shatter his control.

The salad you made for him has barely been touched. All Sam’s attention is on a thick lore book lying open on the table next to his plate. His long, slender yet thick fingers are slowly turning pages. Something is driving Sam tonight, something he thinks he needs to find in that book, but it can wait.

You stand and walk around the table. Sam’s solid forearms are visible below the rolled cuffs of his flannel. You rest your hand on one of them just above his wrist and skim your fingers up his arm to his shoulder. Sam looks up. His eyes are a cloudy gray kissed by blue. His hair is hanging over his collar, tempting you to touch, and that’s the next place your hand goes.

Sam closes his eyes when your fingers start to knead the back of his neck. Your hand is beneath his hair now, and it’s soft on your knuckles. A half exhale, half moan escapes from him; it’s an invitation to kiss him while you continue to massage his neck. 

Sam’s mouth opens under yours, and you know you were right about what he needs. You settle yourself in his lap and deepen the kiss. His tongue is warm and sure as it swirls around yours. You can feel Sam’s hand at the back of your waist drawing you to him. You grind your hips into his lap and another moan, deeper this time, flows from his mouth into yours.

“Sam, I think we’d be more comfortable in the bedroom.” His eyes are darker when he opens them, pupils blown with need. He only glances at the open book and the remains of his salad on the table for a second before he nods to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s hand is at your waist as he guides you into his bedroom. There’s no slamming doors, no ripping off clothes. His actions are still controlled. It’s Sam Winchester’s way to survive. 

Very soon he’s going to remember he gets to have his own life and doesn’t have to focus on saving the world every waking moment; it’s time to let go. You put your hand on Sam’s stomach and push him back against the wall. Even through his layers, you can feel the muscles there. You swipe your tongue around your top lip and bite the bottom one. It’s an easy slide underneath his shirt to feel the skin on his abdomen. “Are you this hard everywhere, Sam, or do I still have some work to do?”

He squeezes his eyes shut briefly before opening them to look at you. His chest is heaving slowly. You know what your words do to him. The smile that crosses your face is playful and easy. “Why don’t I find out?”

You sink to your knees in front of him and make a point of taking your time with his belt and zipper continuing to push just the right buttons while you do. “I want you hard for me, Sam. So hard your thick cock is twitching, aching to pound into me. And I’m going to take all of you. I’m going to make you fit, and I’m going to be so tight around you. I love it when you’re as deep as you can get. That sweet pressure feels so good. I want that, Sam.”

When you pulled his jeans and boxers down his thighs, Sam was fully hard. He was hard and leaking precum in a steady flow. “Can I have a taste before you sink this huge cock inside me?” Sam grunted his reply, put his hands in your hair, and pulled you to him.

That first taste of Sam was always the best, salty nectar on your tongue. You made circles around his tip and listened to him gasp. His fingers tightened in your hair until it started to pull. “Fuck, Y/N.”

You started to bob your head on his shaft. “Maybe I’ll just do this for awhile. Edge you until you have tears in your eyes, and you’re begging me for it.”

Sam’s cock throbbed in your mouth. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, Sam? Desperate for me to let you come.”

He was clenching his jaw now and grabbing your hair. “Y/N.”

You pulled your mouth from him with a deliciously wet and dirty sound then rose to your full height, so your face was close to his when you looked in his eyes and whispered. “What do you want, my love?” You skimmed your knuckles down Sam’s jaw and over the hint of a beard that was beginning to grow there. The only thing you could hear was Sam breathing shallow and fast.

In the next second, he circled your wrist with his massive hand and pulled you against him. “You know what I want.” Sam kissed you hard and deep. He stripped your shirt over your head and threw it to the floor, cupped one of your breasts and started to flick your nipple with his thumb through the fabric of your bra.

You arched back to give him better access. “That’s it, baby, make me hot for it. Make me wet for you.” With a groan, Sam started to suck your neck beneath your ear. It was going to leave a mark, and that’s exactly what you wanted. 

“Mmm, Sam. You’re making me clench around nothing.” You dug your fingers into his back as your body tightened again around the emptiness.

Sam moved his mouth from your neck and placed it by your ear while his hand eased inside your panties, and his fingers found your clit. “Tell me what you want. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

His fingers teased you, and you whimpered. He circled your clit and moved them through your folds, but he didn’t push them inside you. There was no relief for the growing ache you had to be filled. “Fuck me. With your fingers, your tongue, your cock. Do it, Sam.”

He pulled his fingers away from your core and lifted them to your mouth. Sam brushed your wetness across your lips. Then he put his fingers in his own mouth and sucked them clean. He closed his eyes while he did it, and when he opened them again; you saw a distinct hunger there. “I want more of you.”

Sam lifted you from the floor, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, kissing you passionately while he did. You felt the mattress, solid beneath your back, when he put you down. It was grounding when the sight of Sam before you threatened to make you forget how to breathe. He took off his shirt and let it drop to the bed beside him. 

You had only a second or two to appreciate his lean and muscled body before he peeled off your yoga pants and underwear, spread your legs wide, and began to take what he’d started to the next level. Sam’s hands were on your thighs, keeping them open, while his tongue lapped at your clit. He moved his mouth down to your opening and let his tongue slide in. At first, it was like a kiss. He moved his tongue slowly, in circles, tasting you. Your hands grabbed at his hair. “More, Sam. Please, more.” He started quick shallow thrusts with his tongue, and your clit started to ache. “Touch me. I need you to touch me.”

You arched your back when his fingers found your clit, and his tongue plunged deeper. The faster he moved his fingers, his tongue found the rhythm to match. Just when you were right on the edge of your orgasm snapping and washing through your body, he switched. Sam put his long, thick fingers inside you, curled them to find your g spot, and he started to rub it. His lips latched onto your clit, and he sucked until you came so hard you screamed loud enough for everyone in the bunker to hear.

Sam moved up your body to prop himself over you on his forearms. You grabbed at his shoulders and held on, needing to feel him. “That’s my girl.” He placed soft kisses on your cheek by your ear while you caught your breath. “I’m not done with you. I’m going to make you shake again. Harder next time.”

Sam’s lips were on yours, and he was kissing you right back into wanting him again even though your body still hadn’t recovered from the first orgasm. He kissed down the center of your body until his head was between your breasts and stopped long enough to remove your bra so he could give your nipples some attention.

The same way his mouth had worked over your clit and inside you, he did the same with your nipples. At first the kisses were slow, his tongue circling around and over each bud. Your moans came faster this time and when they were steadily falling from your mouth, Sam sank his middle and ring fingers deep inside you and started to pump them. True to his word, Sam gave you a second orgasm even more powerful than the first.

Sam was on his side next to you now, he rubbed his nose against your neck and let your hair cover his face. His erection was pressing into you. You pushed his shoulder, rolling him onto his back. “It’s my turn now. I think I promised to make you cry.” You stroked Sam’s length until the precum was running down his shaft. 

Sam was fairly quiet in bed, until he was really turned on. The grunts he was making told you he was losing his control. “I want you inside me, Sam. I want you to fill me, stretch me, make me take every single bit of you. Give it to me so hard and deep I don’t know if I can take anymore. Don’t show me any mercy, Sam. None.”

His cock lay hard and leaking against his stomach. You guided him to your entrance and lowered yourself onto him slowly, one inch at a time. Sam’s hands were grabbing at the sheets, making fists, and pulling them from the bed. “You’re mine, aren’t you, Sam? I’m the one who gets to make you feel good.” He was all the way inside you now. 

You started to ride him, moving your hips in a slow undulating motion. “Y/N.” He grabbed your hips and started to lift you. Up and down, he moved your body faster on his cock. You bounced on his length and took your breasts in your hands, giving him quite the show. Sam’s neck and cheeks flushed pink just before he came hot inside you.

You collapsed on top of him, and Sam wrapped his arms around your back. After a few minutes of holding you, he started to glide his fingertips up and down your back. “You didn’t make me cry. Change your mind?”

You raised up and kissed his nose. “I decided to go easy on you.” You pulled at his bottom lip with your finger. “There’s always next time.” You kissed him, lingering and soft.”

Sam ran his fingers through your hair. “You always know what I need, Y/N.”

“I hope so.” You lowered your head. “It isn’t always books, Sam. You deserve more than that.”

“It’s been hard for me to get used to that, you know?” You lifted your head, and Sam brushed the hair from your face. “It still seems too good to be true. I know we don’t have a picket fence, but this is more than I ever thought I’d have.” Sam stopped talking and took your hand in his, then he brought it to his mouth and kissed it.” You understand me. Thank you.”

You kissed his cheek in response. “There’s still so much more I want to give you, Sam.” This man deserved everything. 

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911 

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @durinsbride​ @deansyahtzee​ @waywardnerd67​ @fullmooner​ @sams-sass​ @beskaradberoya​

[aotimagines]

Aperture [1]

Hey. Remember when this blog hit 5,000 followers and I mentioned I was going to be writing something self-indulgent? The moment has finally arrived, lol. The idea spiraled way out of control before I could stop myself so here we are. This is probably not what the anon meant when they sent this in, but I couldn’t stop myself from plotting this story out. It’ll probably have around 8-10 chapters and I want to be realistic and say I’ll be able to update frequently, but there are no promises. My goal is for a new chapter every two weeks, but it’ll probably be closer to once a month. It will contain NSFW at some point, so minors do not interact. To the anon who sent this request in almost a year ago, I am so sorry this has taken me this long to write. I apologize and hope that this suffices. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

“Could you lift your head and look towards the camera, please?”

Your breath was nearly whisked away from your lungs at the sight of your model’s eyes flickering towards you, the intensity swirling behind his irises rooting you to your spot. They reflected the ocean itself—deep, vibrant, and tumultuous just like rolling waves and you felt yourself drowning at sea. You could barely tear your eyes away from his ethereal beauty; from the sharp angle of his jaw, to his sinewy, sun-kissed skin. Each and every ripple of muscle resembled someone akin to a Greek statue over real life and the longer you looked at your model, the more difficult it became to stop your eyes from gazed lower…

Immediately, you brought your camera back up to your eye to conceal your reverie and took another photo, peeling the camera back to examine the frame you had just taken with more intense than you should have. “Great!” Your voice came out rushed and quick—high and pitchy. You wanted to die right then and there on the spot, but you needed to act more professional even if you couldn’t resist the temptation to ogle your client’s perfectly sculpted, perfectly nude body.

It was wrong. It was beyond heinous but, the instant Eren Jaeger walked out to your photoshoot and shed his robe, his stunning looks had been on your mind. As a professional photographer, you had seen your fair share of models, both nude and not, so why were you acting so ridiculous? There was something undeniably electric about Eren and the way he was able to express so much emotion through his eyes alone. After having worked with him for only an hour, you could definitely see why he was scouted to be a model. There was an air of shyness that radiated off him despite the wave of confidence that brimmed so brightly from within. It was cute, which felt foreign and almost like an insult when thinking about the man standing before you.

Still, you needed to maintain your composure and do your job. You could allow yourself to be dazzled by your model for a moment, but now you needed to get back to work. Standing, you exchanged a friendly smile with Eren and motioned to his hands, pointing out, “Do you mind if we get some close-up shots of the watch? I know the campaign said that they wanted a full body shot, but I’d like to give some other options…”

“Sure,” he agreed, his electric gaze never leaving your face even as he held out his wrist and loosened the tension. Immediately, you snapped into your role as the photographer and began taking photos, unaware that you inching several steps closer.

Captivated with the elegance of his long, deft fingers, you became enraptured in your own little world and mindless gave instruction and praise, your prior embarrassment all but gotten. You were unaware of the way Eren’s eyes were glued to your every expression; the way your tongue would push through your lips as you found an angle or shape you liked. As exhilarated as you were to photograph him, Eren was, in kind, just as thrilled to way the way you worked. It was difficult tot keep cool and focus on his job with the way you moved around him, the sheer delight across your face almost tangible. He had been subjected to many photographers, some good and bad, but never…

“Okay!” Your voice dragged him from his thoughts, your lips curved into a soft, gentle smile. “I think we got it? Good work, Eren. You were great.”

“Ah—thanks,” he replied, the fabric of his robe hitting his shoulders before he realized it. One of the assistants must have gotten it for him and it took him all but five seconds to realize that he was still standing before you, naked. His cheeks heated up, a tennis ball lodged in the back of his throat, but he managed to force out, “You were a good photographer. It was, uh…easy to follow your instruction.”

You were positively beaming by the time he glanced at your face, eyes wide and sparkling. “Thank-you! That means a lot, especially since I’m kind of new to working on a professional set and everything.”

“Seriously!” Eren couldn’t believe that he was still continuing the conversation—continuing to praise you, a complete and utter stranger—but here he was. Eren was not the type of person to be physically attracted to anyone right off the bat, but there was something so…mesmerizing about you that he couldn’t bring himself to stop talking. “It was a nice shoot. I didn’t even realize we were here for a couple hours.”

“Me either,” came your confession, camera clutched between your hands. “You take direction really well. Oh!” As if an idea just came to your head, you moved to the monitors behind the lights and popped out your SD card, gently sliding the chip inside the reader. Angling your chin, you glanced up at his features, your eyes shining with complete and utter excitement. “Want to see some of the shots? I usually offer to let the models see so they can view the before and after.”

“Uh…” Eren contemplated it for a moment, his mind very cognizant of the fact that he was still only wearing a robe. You seemed completely oblivious to it, which dashed some of his prior thoughts. A moment passed by until he cracked a smile and moved closer to gaze down at the computer monitor. “Sure. I don’t really get a chance to see what I can improve on, or anything.”

Your fingers clicked open the file folder, pulling up the images you had taken not even ten minutes ago. Scrolling through, your eyes darted from one side of the screen to the other as if making mental notes about which ones you wanted to save for editing, later. “Here—this one is really nice,” you said, double-clicking the image until it was pulled up for Eren to see. Despite his nudity being on full display, Eren couldn’t help but notice how…tasteful it was done. Truly, like mentioned in the job description, his focus was on the multitude of watches adorning his wrist, but there was something else about it that…

It was like you had managed to dig deep inside of him and photograph his soul; his emotions. Everything was displayed in his eyes and it took Eren a second to recognize himself. His silence made you worry, hastily bringing up, “Of course, they will look better with editing in post, but—”

Eren shook his head, cutting off your explanation before you could really begin. “No, it’s—it’s not that! Really, the photos are…” He floundered for the right word to describe what you had created; what you had managed to pull out of him and then captured on film. No other photographer had managed that before, so to see himself like that was a little…

“It’s different,” he concluded, gaze still lingering on the images on the screen. “I’m not used to seeing myself look like that. You’re an amazing photographer and I’m sort of struggling to come up with a better compliment than that.”

Visibly, you relaxed upon hearing his praise, pride swelling inside your chest when you realized that he liked the photos. “It makes it easier when my model is able to pull from within, too,” you countered, finally looking up at him after what felt like an eternity. Eren’s eyes met yours and it was like a magnetic field was drawing you closer to him, but you refrained from your urges and settled for exiting out of the photos. It took everything inside of you to swallow back the attraction and fascination that was bubbling inside of you, which only made you antsy and anxious to begin the editing process.

“Anyways, I should let you get dressed. I’m sure you’re itching to get out of here.”

“Ah, right.” Reluctantly, Eren broke eye contact first and stretched, the fabric of his thin robe inching higher against his toned thighs. You jerked your head away from him to conceal the heat crawling across your cheeks and praised whatever deity above that Eren hadn’t paid any attention to your sudden shy demeanor. He seemed to think to himself for a moment before exhaling deeply and walking off, leaving you to skim through the multitude of images you had taken.

A period of time passed because, the next thing you knew, Eren was back by your side, his silky, chocolate-colored tresses pulled back into a bun that rested at the nape of his neck. Small hairs framed his face, only fanning the fuel to his already handsome, boyish looks. You swallowed thickly and offered a smile, rising from your chair to ask, “You heading out?”

“Yeah, but I actually wanted to ask you something, first…” Eyebrow quirked, you watched Eren rock back and forth on his feet, a nervous energy teeming off of him. While the two of you knew nothing about each other outside of first and last names, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was typical behavior. He seemed to self-assured whenever he spoke. Was there something wrong with the photos after all? Before you could ask, Eren’s hand shot out and encircled around your wrist, preventing you from turning away or moving back to your computer screen. “Listen,” he pressed closer, temporarily catching you off guard with how bold he was being, “there’s a party happening later tonight. I really don’t want to go, but my manager said it’d be good for connections and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Why?” The question escaped your mouth before you could process what was happening, confusion written across your features. You didn’t pull away from his touch, however, and repeated after a moment of clarity, “You barely know me, Eren. We’re strangers. Shouldn’t you invite one of your friends?”

Eren fell silent for a moment before an uncharacteristic smirk danced across his lips. There was something fierce about the glimmer in his eyes and his body language exuded an amount of confidence he had only displayed the instant his eyes locked with your camera lens earlier that afternoon. He leaned in closer, studying the way your face heated up, before murmuring in a low tone, “I saw the way you were looking at me, earlier.”

Embarrassed, you averted your eyes to the ground. “I’m—I’m sorry! Really, I sometimes get lost in my work and you are beautiful, so I…got swept away. It was unprofessional and I swear it won’t happen again, if we happen to work together.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Eren chuckled, the sound so dizzying that you felt yourself drawn to it—to him—like a moth circling a flame. This was a dangerous game you two were playing and you weren’t sure what kind of out come Eren was looking for. Rather, he released your hand and stepped back, the intensity gone and replaced with a softer, kinder smile. “I liked your photos,” he simply stated, his hand resting against his hip as he continued to stare at you. “And you liked what you were able to get out of me. I just thought it’d be a good opportunity to each to know one another.”

“Professionally?”

“Both,” he easily quipped with a shrug of his shoulders.

You ran a hand through your hair, teeth catching your inner cheek. “I don’t know.”

“How about this.” Eren reached for the sharp on your desk and ripped the cap off with his teeth, balancing the piece of plastic between his two lips. Before you could protest, he grabbed your hand again and began to write numbers into your palm, a string of digits staring back up at you. “When you decide what you want to do, you can text me. Even if you don’t want to go with me, specifically, it’d be a good idea to make connections. You said yourself that you’re new to the industry.”

You had said that, didn’t you? Eren’s number stared up at you, silently replaying your words from earlier like a broken record until a heavy, shaky sigh pulled from your lips. You didn’t know what his intentions were, but you figured that you could worry about that, later. Even if you couldn’t decipher Eren’s true nature, the prospect of getting your name out to more people in the industry was too tempting to ignore. “But what do I wear?” you asked weakly, watching as Eren’s features lit up like a light.

“It’s cocktail, but whatever you have should be fine. I really don’t care about what other people are wearing, either way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh genuinely at this, pointing out with amusement dripping from your tone, “Aren’t you a fashion model? Shouldn’t you care about stuff like that?”

Eren scoffed, lips twisted into a smile. “Nah. That kind of stuff is stupid.”

“But then why…?” You stopped, shook your head, and moved to the desk where your cellphone rested. Holding it up, you tilted your head to the side. “So, I’ll text you? I’ll need an address, you know.”

Eren’s name was being called from across the building—probably whoever he brought with him, you noted—but his eyes still lingered on you even as he began to step away. “It’s for seven-thirty. See you!”

You watched as he jogged away until he was completely out of sight, your heart hammering against your ribs repeatedly. You weren’t sure what the hell had just transpired, but the area where his fingers brushed your skin tingled pleasantly as an aftershock effect.

You were way, way in over your head.

[7wanderingpaws]

He Loves Love (1/3)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: singer AU (no Exo)

Words: 5.6K

Warnings: none

A/N: I got such a good feedback for He Loves Love (a drabble) - I recommend reading it first - and plus a request to actually write the story about the lovers and how they got together so I did it! This is the first part out of TWO... I hope I fulfilled the expectations. Please let me know what you think, it helps immensely... Thank you and you look pretty today! 💕

This was requested by lovely @shesdreaminginoverdose​ I hope you will like it! And thank you! 🌹😊

Masterlist

1<<<   2<<<

The plastic chair you were sitting on came in very handy since your feet were killing you. The café you were currently in was a famous one, hidden away in the tangles of small streets in Sinsa-dong, where the life of Seoul was bustling with lively, young energy that you should have been able to relate to but it had been a bit difficult recently. It might have been the amount of assignments combined with the internship you managed to land- although you were not sure how.

“It is interesting,” mumbled Hyeri seated across from you,  who, would become your senior at the magazine. “I would never say you have an inch of fashion sense if I were to just look at you.” She didn't look up from the printed text of your blog posts and various stories you managed to get out to the world through indie publications. Wearing an expensive set of sunglasses, there was no chance you would be able to see the sharpness of her eyes. “It is just so... “ she shook her head slightly, searching for the correct word to describe your fashion sense. “Plain.”

Sucking your lips inside your mouth, you nodded slowly although she wasn't paying attention to your physical being, her head still set low, hawk eyes skimming through every word you typed out.

A couple of more seconds passed by without any words spoken, when she suddenly looked up, startling you for a heartbeat. “You also don't say much.”

“I didn't think there is any correct answer I could give you.”

“Well, your senior is talking to you. You should acknowledge their words.” You noticed a frown on her forehead, her eyebrows that were dark with a generous help of a pencil, were scrunched upwards. Her face must have been very pretty, the heavy red lipstick said it, too. Confidence. Authority.

“Sometimes staying silent is better than saying something unworthy,” you replied calmly, giving her a slight uplift of your lips. They were becoming rather dry, not having a lip balm as you left your teeny-tiny one-room apartment in a rush, scared of not arriving on time. Seoul transportation could be sometimes quite nerve-wrecking.

Hyeri reciprocated the tiny smile, but it didn't give you an inch of reassurance. “Alright, good.” She slammed the document shut, reaching for her iced-americano. Carefully pursing her lips, she drank through the straw so that her lipstick wouldn't be ruined. “Let's go to the office, shall we?” Chairs screeched on the floor and you followed her click-click with your tump-tump.

When you started the work, it was crazy because wow, you made it into one of the best fashion magazines in Korea!  But continuing to work there was slowly killing you... until you met him.

Those simple yet somehow powerful words he uttered to you…

I will wait for you until you make it.

The feeling he left inside of you was like a tattoo that should have been temporary, just like it happens in any random first-time meetings with people you don't know. They might charm you and the effect might last for a day or two, sometimes a bit more. But in this case, you could not get the look out of your mind. He was tattooed on your eyelids, and he seemed to constantly talk into your ear.

I will wait until you make it.

Naturally, you were trying to shut the intrusive chain of thoughts out, telling yourself that it was ridiculous. C'mon, we were talking about a famous singer - a very famous singer. For him to reach such popularity meant to not only have crazy talent but also crazy amount of charm which seemed to work absolute wonders to you and to your mind. It wasn't helping that after the meeting, you followed his activities and looked up interviews, trying to decode his personality through videos and his body-language. Because if there was one thing people underestimated - it was the power of body language. But his was pure, honest, well-mannered and completely controlled, with some dangerous flirting and body movements that made your head spin for a bit, totally affected by him, seeing him even with your eyes closed.

You scoffed out loud, unconsciously, as you were transcribing an interview Hyeri did earlier in the morning with Twice. Not realising your colleagues were giving you a questioning look, you typed away what the interviewee was replying, the volume in your ear a bit too loud. 

Huh… He wouldn't even remember you, let alone wait 'till you “make it” as he so confidently said. These superstars… They thought they could just say something they thought sounds cool but it actually didn't. 

It definitely was not the reason you found yourself listening to his latest album as you were going through the minutes of the meeting that just finished. You were supposed to bring them to the editor-in-chief in an hour.

You could manage to do all the work in one hour.

Only if his voice wouldn't have been so distracting.

Why was it so distracting?

Maybe you were just starstruck. After all, he was someone that you knew about before ever applying to university and making it to a magazine. He was the singer hanging on the walls of horny teenage girls and, let's be honest, many young adults and adults… Who would dislike him, right? 

“Ah, Baekhyun,” mumbled Hyeri with a sigh once you were walking up the stairs of the office building after THE meeting with Baekhyun, the singer. “He is a dangerous one. Always a gentleman, though.”

“Why is he dangerous for being a gentleman?” you asked matter-of-factly. Seriously. People should pay more attention to what they were saying and whether it made sense or not. Just like she could have thought twice before saying whether you were good or bad in front of him just now… Why would she give two damns about your feelings being hurt while also belittling you in front of a major celeb… If only people paid a little bit more attention.

Hyeri smirked, stepping on the first floor in front of the golden elevators. She pressed the button to call one, now turning to you. The sunglasses she liked to wear so much, as you learned,  were leisurely holding her hair back as they were resting as a headband on her head. “He is a sweet dream,” she said, calling your name to make sure you are listening. “Working with him is probably more pleasurable than it should be, but then… You just know he isn't a gentleman only to you. He is the same to each of us.”

You frowned, still having his face, his eyes set on you vividly in your brain. Hyeri looked like him a lot if you didn't focus enough. “You know you don't make sense, my dear senior.”

“Yah!” she shouted, making you jump but you smiled right away. “Don't act like you aren't even a little bit phased by meeting him just now. He looked gorgeous. Plus, it was your first-time meeting someone of his calibre.”

“So will you finish what you were saying before?” you asked nonchalantly, definitely not letting her know that you were out of it because him, too. You didn't want to follow the crowds he was obviously so used to have him follow.

“I meant,” she started again, just when you heard a ding! of the elevator. You walked in, pressing the 24th floor. “No girl seems to be special to him.”

Shrugging, you pursed your lips. “Well, you do realise you are not part of his world, right? He isn't here to make us feel special nor to help us to stand out. That is our job. To make him special.”

Of course no one would dislike him. The editor ladies were swooning, always bringing up his name during the meetings as a proposal for the cover of the magazine of the upcoming issue. You typed his name the most when writing the minutes of the meetings. They all wanted him, but he did not want to be wanted always.

Hence his appearance once in a while. 

Hence you saw him again after almost one year and a half for the first time since your first meeting with him. Coming with a new album that had yet to be released, your editing staff was hot on their feet, running errands, picking up calls and making new ones, because our magazine definitely had to be the first one to book such a luxurious star.

“Good news for you,” started Hyeri as she was passing by your cubicle, her heels loud, her hair bouncy, her sunglasses tucked sensually in the sharp V cut opening of her Gucci shirt. “Your first participation in the creative process.”  She propped up on the edge of your desk, and you turned in your chair to face her. She gave you a mischievous smile. “You shall be able to finally prove to Baekhyun that you made it and that he didn't wait for nothing.”

Your eyebrows shot up fast, your reflexes faster than your brain trying to keep your emotions at bay. But wait… did she just say… “Why do you remember those words?” you asked, dumbfounded.

She gave you a funny look. “Why do you ask me that when I just told you some privileged news? If this whole shot goes well, you sure can expect some sweet promotion.”

Swallowing, your eyes were wandering around, trying to process information. It was ridiculous she would remember some words that weren't even directed towards her. But hey, goodness gracious, were you just assigned to participate in the creative process of his promotion in your magazine? “Will I get to interview?”

Hyeri's lips twitched, only the left corner of her mouth raising. Naive child, she must have thought. “No way. The writer has been already assigned. You aren't close enough yet,” was her reply, standing up now. “The meeting is at six.” She gave a quick look at her golden wrist watch. “You have three hours to help your looks and charm off his pants,” she gave you wink and left.

“Hey!” you shouted after her, grabbing a pencil, ready to throw it at her. “Why would I-” you stopped, when you saw she just laughed loudly without even looking at you. “Woah!” you breathed out, “I don't even care about charming him!” Calming down, you sat back down properly, mulling over her words. “I finally get to be part of something,” you sighed, talking to your wildly beating heart to stop it.

Just why was it beating so fast?

It was not because of him.

It was not.

-

You remember wearing this lush white sweater you had to actually tie around your body unless you wanted to flash some skin or worse… a breast. So you tied it very tightly, and took a breath before heading to the meeting room a bit earlier to prepare the documents for the participants. Thankfully, there weren't many. It was the singer's team, you, the writer and, well, the editor-in-chief, because who would want to miss a meeting with such a popular singer?

You entered the meeting room which had a lovely view of the city that was about to be consumed by darkness, yielding to the city lights that always gave you a sense of excitement, a sense of liveliness. And so as you placed neatly each document in front of each seat, you could hear some movement on the corridor, hinting that it was about to go down.

You turned to the glass wall and saw two men with faces you did not recognize until they let in the first person that was behind them. And just then, you made eye contact with him for the second time in your life. His hair dark, bare face and simple clothing combined in dark colours made him so… normal.

But your heart was reacting like it just saw something completely abnormal and it was going nuts because your breath got caught in your throat as you felt a foreign pull towards him. It was because he a famous personality, nothing else…

He smiled.

Wow.

That was a beautiful smile. And did you just sense a hint of acknowledgement on his face? There was no way he could possibly remember you. This wasn't a drama.

But… then…

He uttered your name.

It rolled of his tongue as if he has had always muttered it before, just like to his old friend that he met for the first time in a long time.

Baekhyun, the singer, was walking to you now, and once again, he spoke your name before saying: “We came a bit earlier, I hope that is okay with you.” Stopping right in front of you, you had one document left in your hand which was meant for you. Without realizing, you were bowing to him, hugging the chunk of papers to your chest as you stole a glance at his managers, quickly bowing to them as well.

“Of course it is, Baekhyun ssi,” you said, bowing again before straightening up and stealing a glance at him to see an entertained look on his face. 

Few more heartbeats passed, before he said, not even turning: “You guys can go, the rest of the team will come later. I want to just wait here.”

Was he telling his managers to leave? While looking at you the entire time?

Just like that, they gave you a polite nod before leaving.

Before any uncomfortable silence could take over, you quickly rushed to say: “Please, have a seat! I prepared the documents for you over here. What would you like to drink?” you started, trying not to stutter in his powerful presence and trying to escape his searching gaze.

He breathed out a deep chuckle, causing goosebumps to raise on your back all the way up to your neck. You pushed the chair he was meant to sit on and waited till he finally moved. Ignoring your questions, he spoke: “So you made it, I see.” He started walking, but once again stopped just in front of you, not taking a seat. “You also developed a better fashion style as I observe.”

As I observe.

Blinking at him a few times in slight confusion, you eventually moved out of the way, feeling uncomfortable at his intimate approach to you. You should be both polite to each other and kind of have it awkward.

The fact that he actually talked to you as if he knew you for the entirety of that one year and a half that you didn't see each other (and it wasn't like you were on a “you are my friend” terms… you were strangers. He was a singer for god's sake) was giving you the chills. Plus, the terrible, annoying butterflies in your stomach were giving you the need to vomit.

You decided not to answer his observations.“I guess water will do it for you,” you replied politely, turning to him just in front of the door, ready to leave.

“What makes you think that?” he smirked as he was making himself comfortable on the chair by sliding down a bit, resting his elbows on the arm rests. You bit your lip.

“You look tired, Baekhyun ssi. That is my observation,” you replied matter-of-factly, giving him a kind smile and feeling like a cheeky girl for playing with his words.

He was looking at you without answering before he sighed, nodding once. “Water will be perfect...  Thank you.”

As you were rushing back with the tray with water and some snacks you didn't have time to prepare, you already heard voices coming out from the meeting room, your editor-in-chief already present. Of course, you wouldn't even thought about eavesdropping. It was an official meeting that you were included in, after all. But the next words, including your own name, made you stop abruptly.

“She is doing very well, Baekhyun ssi,” you heard your editor-in-chief say. You could sense she was smiling, given her tone was so relaxed and light unlike her heavy voice she used when she was in her authority mode with her editors. “But I do have to say that if it weren't for your kind word for her, she might have not made it into our staff.”

Oh dear heavens. No way. This wasn't real, right?

He was the reason you made it into the magazine? He actually gave a word in for you to be accepted? The worst was, that if it weren't for him, you wouldn't be here, chasing your dreams, being already half-way done. This could only mean you weren't good enough on your own… Or was it?

The tray with snacks and water for the singer started to shake slightly as you felt tension rising in your body. Trying to calm your mind, you quickly breathed in and out a few times, attempting to control the sudden outburst of emotions. It was difficult when you still had to face them and sit through an entire meeting with them and you were to propose ideas that might not be good enough because you just weren't good enough on your own without some influential person's help...

You were brought back to planet Earth when Baekhyun, the singer, hummed in reply, the noise giving you a terrible, terrible shock. You wanted to hear that one again. “I am glad. Before you arrived, she was very professional and already tried her best  at making me feel comfortable,” he spoke as if there was any need to add more. “She works hard.”

“I do not doubt that,” replied the editor-in-chief.

Before they would wonder what took you so long, you literally thundered into the room, cheerful but very plastic smile plastered on your face as you not so gently put down the tray on the table and with a shaky hand handed the singer his water. Not daring to look at him once, you gave a polite nod to your editor-in-chief who gave you a close-lipped smile before she motioned with her head for you to sit down next to her, facing the main subject of the meeting.

Him.

The singer.

Whose eyes were on you the instant you dared to look at him. You didn't miss the seriousness as the meeting officially started, the three of you along with the managers sitting a bit on the side, going through each page you so carefully prepared. With pictures, ideas and various possible photoshoot spots you provided in the documents, you sure did gain a sudden wave of confidence, just like when you first submitted the ideas to the editor-in-chief. This time, you could be confident and believe in yourself. What you heard before about the singer taking any kind of part of you getting an offer from the magazine to join them did not matter - or so you were trying to persuade your troubled heart. Because, after all, it was you and your hard work - your journalistic worth that kept you there and eventually landed you a spot right opposite the main actor of your entire story. Byun Baekhyun.

-

On the first day out of two intensive shooting days, you were extremely busy and kind of overwhelmed with the amount of work and the control you suddenly possesed. The editor-in-chief's words kept popping up in your head as you commanded the filming team at 4am about what to put where and discussing the possible angles of the photos with the director of photography. 

“This is a great chance for you to experience and understand the hard-work of the people around a photoshoot. I know you love writing, but for you to really understand the process behind interviews and the main subject, you need to first work hard around it.”

You remembered taking the editor-in-chief's words seriously, and you still did, but it was tiring. Also, the superstar was supposed to arrive at 5am and you were not ready to face him in this situation. After the first meeting back in the magazine headquarters, the electric waves you kept feeling were so out of place, you were utterly ashamed about the direction of your thoughts and feelings about him. Because he was just it - a superstar whose main job was to charm people, and preferably, sing well since he was a singer after all.

“Good morning,” your train of thoughts was interrupted by a gentle voice from behind. You were in the storage room where all the props were ready to be used once it was their time to shine.

Turning around, you looked at a freshly looking Baekhyun, the singer, who was standing in the doorway to the storage room. Simple dark jeans, a long hoodie with his dark hair over his eyes... he might have looked like someone that came out of the shower and needed to feel comfy. Not like you gave it much thought.

Letting your eyes drop behind him, you noticed he didn't have anyone around as you expected. There was literally never a time he wasn't being followed, or led somewhere by managers or whatever staff was at hand.  “Ah, you arrived, Baekhyun ssi,” you smiled politely, bowing as you were holding some boxes with fresh flowers that arrived just a little bit ago. Looking into his eyes, you squeezed your lips even tighter, feeling now the familiar shakiness you felt whenever he was anywhere near you. Or more like whenever you knew his presence was somewhere near you. It could be anywhere in the building, really. By now, you didn't even have to see him to get the effect. He was effortlessly affecting you without being physically with you. “How come you arrived early? I bet you could have used some more time to sleep.” You moved towards the doorway where he was stood, wanting to leave the storage room as the flowers were needed at the main set.

He wasn't moving, though. Instead, waiting for you to stand in front of him so he could look down on you with a cheeky smile, he said: “I wanted to come earlier to make sure I understand the concept we are shooting today.”

You looked up at him, lifting the boxes slightly in your grip to ease the weight. “Then what was the meeting for, hm?” you challenged, puffing out some air. Baekhyun took the boxes from you, which you didn't let go of. “No way, Baekhyun ssi. That is my job. Please go prepare for the shoot in the A2 room. It's just down the corner.”

He smirked, pressing on the boxes so you would let go, which you unconsciously did. “I might have not paid proper attention during the meeting.”

“Well, you were tired, it's understandable.”

He kept on looking at you without talking. Then, he hummed. That hum you heard before the meeting. The hum that seemed to have a certain effect on your heart. “Yeah, that too.” He took a breath, his answer somehow distant. “How is the work? Did you have too much on your plate for this photoshoot?”

“Yeah, actually, I really need to work now-”

“Just five minutes. You can spare five minutes for me, right?” he asked quickly, putting the boxes down between the two of you,  as if there wasn't really an option to say no. Because it was him, you did not have an option to say no.

You nodded curtly. “Sure. Five minutes.”

He laughed quietly, which felt strangely intimate. “So, will you answer my question now?”

“Baekhyun ssi,” you started, tucking some messy hair behind your ear, “this is a job that requires me to do this. I love it. The craze, the overtime, the pressure, the fact that not a single day is the same. I should probably thank you, shouldn't I?”

Well, that last sentence wasn't supposed to come out. You really didn't mean to start on this topic now, when you had little time and you also weren't intending on letting him know that you knew about him giving a word in for you. He probably didn't want you to know.

“Thank me?” he asked, slight frown in his eyes. “Why would you want to thank me?”

Now it was your turn to look at him without replying right away. Carefully looking at his features, you were trying to see through him, except there wasn't much to mull over, because his features and expression were genuine. You licked your lips once you noticed his wandering stare - it was fast, but still noticeable. He was standing in front of you, after all. Your hair, your forehead, slowly sliding down your nose before making a quick, but very memorable stop at your unmoving lips before meeting your gaze. “Because you are the first cover of the magazine I get to work on.”

“Oh, what an honour then,” he chuckled, his confusion all cleared up now. “I just wanted to let you know that,” he paused, licking his lips as he dropped his gaze for a bit, making you go breathless in the meantime. He raised his eyes back up to yours. “That I am proud of how far you came. It is always nice to see that hard work pays off.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. “I appreciate your words. Although, I would like to ask - and I apologize if I will come off as rude, but I prefer things being straightforward - why do you treat me this way?”

“Treat you what way exactly?”

“This,” you motioned with your hands at the boxes he put down, him blocking the doorway so you couldn't leave. “You are being kind. And your approach towards me… It is all just…” you shook your head, frustrated for the lack of vocabulary, “do you do this to all the meaningless interns you meet?”

“There is no such position as meaningless intern,” he shot back. “Plus, you are not an intern anymore. And yes, I do like to treat my staff with kindness.”

“No, that is not what I meant. What is this all about?”

He shrugged, amused at your tiny outburst. “So I like you. What is wrong with that?”

You went silent. Speechless. All you could do was just stare at him with wide eyes, your jaw slightly hanging open. The conversation certainly took a very different turn.

“What?” he laughed cockily when he didn't get a reply, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought you liked things straightforward?”

You heart was about to jump out of your ribcage, and he dared to laugh at this situation? He dared to use your own words? God, this dude really had some courage.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, suddenly quiet as he took the tiniest of steps forward. To you. “You seem surprised.”

“Y-you… Y-you are actually asking me why I look at you like this?” you almost shrieked, causing him to sober up and shush you quickly, moving his hand up, his finger on your lips. Your eyes widened even more, moving your head back. “What do you think you are doing, Baekhyun ssi?”

“I'm doing straightforward business with you,” he explained matter-of-factly, “and you are ruining it.”

“This isn't funny.”

“I am not trying to be funny. For once.”

“I'm sorry but-” you shook your head frantically, bending in your waist to pick up the boxes, “this is a joke. I don't have time for this. I also don't have time for this bullying.”

“Bullying?” he gasped, standing in the middle of the doorframe so that you wouldn't be able to escape. He was genuinely surprised and, was that hurt you saw in his eyes? Disbelief perhaps?

You straightened up, giving him a strict look. “I am not going to become your puppet, Byun Baekhyun ssi. I'm disappointed. Liking someone based on their looks…” you mumbled the last sentence, scoffing and eventually dropping your gaze, to give him an attitude. Hopefully, he would realise you weren't one to be played with.

Despite all of that, you… oh, you were dizzy with emotions swirling around in your bloodstream. His words could actually influence the chemistry of your body. Magnificent. And he just freaking admitted he liked you. You had no idea based on what exactly, but he did. 

“You aren't attracted to people?” he questioned, amused. “When you first see them... You can even feel them.” He went silent for a bit, and you felt each and every touch of his gaze on your face. Eventually, he spoke your name softly. “Look at me. Please.” When you didn't comply, stubborn, he spoke even softer. “I'm sorry if I went overboard. I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. And I definitely didn't want to make you feel like you were bullied. God, no. Never. ” Now, you looked up at him, paying attention. “I just couldn't help myself. There is something about you…” he murmured, letting his gaze drink in your facial features. He shook his head gently. “I apologize. And know that I am looking forward to working with you on this one.”

“You don't even know me.”

“Hm?”

You licked your lips. “You don't even know me. I am nobody to you. It doesn't make any sense to me.” Stubbornly, you were trying to give him a way out, to cancel what he admitted.

Yes. You were a nobody to him. And everything that was happening right now was surreal, abnormal and just plain ridiculous for you. A world-wide famous singer who liked an intern/editor and was proud of how far she came because, it was all thanks to him you were there in the first place.

No. It was just nonsense. Surely, he was just making things up. And because you might have been too starstruck by him, an obvious effect, you were feeling this pull towards him you couldn't quite describe. But then again, it most probably was a natural effect of famous people. 

He shook his head, plucking the bubble you were in. “I don't have to know you to see that you came so far. I met you when you were starting, and now, here you are.” He smiled.

Just in that moment, somebody called your name and you and Baekhyun exchanged looks. Seeing that he was truly sorry about making you feel uncomfortable, you gave him a polite smile and a nod with your head. Before taking your leave, you spilled him the contents of the photoshoot in a speed of light (since that was why he initiated a conversation with you in the first place, right?), ending it with a simple, but direct: “Then I will see you on the set.”

-

It was difficult working on the set with Baekhyun, the singer, when you were so aware of how he seemed to feel about you. As much and as aggressively as you were trying to deny his words and his little confession to you, you couldn't help but notice that, indeed, your eyes met much more than it was acceptable. Nobody noticed. Yet. Nobody was supposed to, anyway - and they mustn't - notice. That was your opinion. But when he was giving you the gorgeous, going-to-your-knees smiles and outright cocky, flirty remarks whenever you were directing the shoot, you couldn't help but give a small smile, or a silent laugh.

Goodness.

What a charmer.

So far, he made every staff member of the set laugh. Yes, even the male staff. Because that was him. Jokes, teasing, remarks, observations, some singing here and there, then whistling a melody you didn't know. That was all him in a bubble. Plus, the shoot was long and tiring, yet his energy would hardly fade or as much as lose a tiny bit of colour. His aura was still strong and so shiny, you might have needed to close your eyes for a minute and let it sink in - his energy that seemed to slowly creep under your skin and make you an entirely bubbly, giggly girl that you never were.

He pulled off all your ideas perfectly. Whether it was a sweet concept, a light one or a dark one with heavy colours - his gaze would adjust accordingly. Holding your breath, you were staring at the photographer's laptop screen. With every loud click, a new photo would load, and you were in awe at seeing the singer shine in such a dark outfit, such heavy makeup and even a dark background. He was enchanting. Scary. Intimidating. Self-confident. And just oh so breathtaking, pulling you in like a riptide.

Looking up, you saw that he was looking at you before changing his modelling position. He wasn't laughing nor smiling, still deep in his role. Maybe it was in that moment you had this weird revelation, a weird desire you might have been pushing down. After all, you were a human with needs. And you have been feeling a weird sensation the more you looked at him, mouth ever so slightly, but still hanging open as you couldn't stop looking at him. Swallowing quickly, you snapped back to your senses when you felt a strong burn of his eyes. You faintly heard in the background, his voice light, yet so husky. “Is the editor satisfied with the photos?”

He was observing you observing him. Your breath hitched, your heart immediately in a frenzy of thumps.

And you liked it.

A lot.

So you nodded. “I very much am.”

[your-mom-friend]

I was looking for a video to explain a physics thing to me when I saw this pop up in my recommended:

How to Know if You Have ADHD

And I was like Aight, let’s check this out. 

Disclaimer: This isn’t meant to diagnose anyone. There are 10 symptoms he discusses and and if you’ve shown 6 or more since childhood you should try to get a diagnosis from a professional.

That said, I’m going to go into it. I’ll be explaining the points and my experience with them.

1) Trouble starting projects.  --> You have trouble doing the actual project. Not conceptualizing or planning, because that’s not usually an issue, but doing the ACTUAL project. --> Me: *stares at pile of unstarted projects that I bluffed people into thinking I did* yes 

2)Poor attention to detail:  --> You finally started that project! Good for you! Except you’re making a lot of mistakes. You brush over a lot of details. You ignored the instructions because you didn’t pay attention. You tend to skim read things and blaze through the project as fast as possible.  --> Me: occasionally. Only when Im tired so I guess not really?

3) Easily distracted: --> You get distracted RELLY easily. You get bored super easy and distracted by literally anything in the room. You zone out of conversations and realize you haven’t heard a WORD they said and you’re pretty much just looking at their mouth moving. -->I literally started drawing in my book and missed this point entirely and got to the fifth point before realizing I wasn't listening and rewinding to this so yeah. 

4) Hyperfocus: --> Basically you lose the concept of time entirely and can focus on something for hours on end, sometimes even forgetting to use the bathroom or eat or drink. --> Me: Remembers that time I accidentally spent a whole day learning baking techniques and not eating or drinking or using the bathroom because I read a single post on a baking blog 

5) Bad Time Management: --> Do you have trouble keeping deadlines? Or can’t make it to things on time even when you try? Do you have trouble with time in relation to the length of a task? Like you severely underestimate the amount of time it would take to do a task? --> I allotted 4 days to a physics portion for my exam that's supposed to take 9 days. It's day after tomorrow. I am a failure. 

6) Disorganized: --> You use the term “Organized Chaos” a lot. Everything in life is such a rush that it’s impossible to keep things organized. You fall behind on work because you have trouble arranging and prioritizing your work.  -->LISTEN. My room is a collection of things. If I need it it HAS to be in sight range or I'll forget it exists. But it's usually clean because (a) my sisters and I share a room and the older one can't stand mess and (b) I hyper focus at 2 am and clean everything. 

7) Over Emotional: --> You’re quick to anger or upset or get bored. To others it looks like you exaggerate your emotions but that’s just how you feel. You have a poor self image and have trouble letting go of negative emotions and other’s opinions of you. --> Yes. Enough said. 

8) Impulsiveness: --> Do you find yourself wanting to do something immediately after you think about it? Do you find yourself frustrated when you AREN’T able to do it? You impulse buy things. As soon as a thought comes to you in the middle of a conversation you HAVE to say it regardless of what the other person is saying.  -->The writing part yeah. I’m too nervous to interrupt people so I just clamp my mouth shut.

 9) Forgetful: --> This is more about your short term memory than long term. You tend to forget things that were JUST said or things you just did. You forget things like names and instructions very quickly. You have trouble remembering things that would come naturally to others. --> I was clearing the table and remembered there was a glass left to take and I went back to grab it and it wasn't there and I go to the kitchen confused and I ask my mom if someone brought it and she tells me I brought it first and went back and I'm like "what" and it was in my hand the whole time. 

10) Shutting off your Brain: --> Your thoughts run a through your head like a river. You have trouble winding down and sleeping because of how many thoughts are in your head.  You have trouble writing Ideas down because as soon as you start, you get all these other ideas that need to ALSO be written down. -->ABSOLUTLEY. I don't talk a lot because I tend to de-rail conversations and make things weird because of it. I try to journal my thoughts but it never works for that exact reason.

[tarithenurse]

Stolen - 24

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson &/x fem!gifted!reader Content: The saying “Lie in the bed of your own making” is pretty spot on. A/N: Well...I just couldn’t wait with posting another chapter and read your tormented/delighted reactions ;) Ask or re-blog for tag.

(Slightly out of context GIF)

24. Let Your Ego Die

...   Loki   ...

Emerging from the bathroom, where he has folded the towels and placed the laundry in a basket, it’s as though something has shifted. The trickster’s first instinct is to look to the shadows – eyes and ears alert in fear of intruders – not a muscle moves until he is certain the only difference is the passing darkness from a cloud obscuring the moon. Good, he sighs.

“Got me worried there for a moment,” the voice is dry with sarcasm.

And now he sees it: pushed up by the elbow, [Y/N] is watching from the bed. Returning her gaze with a lift of the brows, no evidence springs at him that she may still be angry. In fact, the woman doesn’t show any emotions at all. Hm.

“Did I wake you?” He has to bite back the usual endearments, not daring to poke the sleeping fire.

“No.”

Hmm-hm. “Then I suggest you go to sleep, ‘tis late.”

“And I suggest we talk,” she counters, sitting up properly while tugging the covers up her armpits.

Clearly, she does not intend to negotiate – something she emphasises by gesturing to the foot end of the bed – and Loki silently obliges, curious to see where this will go.

“Firstly.” She even holds up a finger to show the count and no digits has ever been so perfect at the job. “You owe me an apology -” she continues without leaving room for interruption - “because of your behaviour earlier. I might just be ‘mortal’ as you say, but I’m no less worthy of proper respect than you.”

Her words hang in the air, laden with stern expectancy Loki can’t resist. “I was out of line.” She blinks in surprise. “I take full responsibility for my outburst and the frustration fuelling it. Please forgive me.”

As if unsure how to react, [Y/N] fidgets with the silk covering her. Did she not consider this outcome? But the Jotun hides his amusement, simply waiting for her to continue. Sitting in silence, he can feel her toes wriggle underneath the cover. [Y/E/C] gleams in the silvery light when she dares shoot him a glance.

“Yes. Uhm. Right...” A heartbeat more and she has regained her posture, including the nigh regal air which could enslave any man. “After...after our...argument, I went for a walk and I met your brother.” Loki keeps his mouth shut while every muscle tenses at the mention. “He even asked me what was wrong...guess what I told him?”

That you despise me now? “How can I know?”

“Because you should know that I, at least, still want to avoid my world being shattered by Thanos.” It’s a hiss but might as well have been a kick in the balls, leaving a bitter taste in Loki’s mouth. “I didn’t lie, but I did as you wanted and hinted having seen a larger threat, someone worse than you wanting something from Earth.”

Did you, now? “Show me,” and his hand is already moving to the soft skin of [Y/N]’s forehead, only hesitating long enough for the minimal nod.

...   Reader   ...

A scene underwater unfolding before you to reveal every action, you re-watch with horror as storms of emotions form waves around the two figures speaking on the balcony. Shit! Praying to anything that might hear for Loki only to pay attention to the spoken words, you recognize the hurt, disappointment, and longing raging around the memory of Thor and yourself.

Too proud to give that part of the magic a second thought, you had wanted to prove your accomplishment and forgot the sharing of feeling. Maybe the terror seeded in you the previous (and only) time Loki worked this spell has had time to feel as though it truly is yours, blinding you to the fact that the god would have had access if the stream had been reversed.

Has access. Fuck.

Gasping for breath, you resurface from the recollection and immediately swallowed by his eyes. Crinkles around them prove that he’s smirking. Probably about to make fun of me. Torment me. I’m too easy. This would be the moment where a smart person pulled away rather than letting his hand skim along your hairline before the fingers dig into the mess of locks to cradle your skull softly.

And then he pulls you closer ever so slightly.

And you can’t breathe.

And what you thought was mocking mischief gleaming in his eyes is drowned by the velvety blackness of his pupils.

And then he’s on his feet, growling at a knocking on the door while you still sit with your lips slightly parted as if waiting for the impossible. It’s the golden shimmer of his disguise reappearing that jerks you back in action, nodding when Loki looks over his shoulder at you for confirmation that he can open the door.

You had half expected to find Thor waiting, not the sight of Fandral and an exasperated Sif behind him.

“M’laddy!” Despite the fervour in the blond’s cry, you can still hear the slurring. “A mmmoment of y’r time, I be-eg.”

At least he doesn’t try to enter the room...though that could be because Sif has a strong grip on his shoulder now. “My apologies, short of knocking him out I could not stop him from coming here.” She sounds sincere.

Bet you didn’t actually mind knocking him out, though. “No worries...I wasn’t sleeping yet.” You ignore the tension in Loki’s shoulders, well aware he just wants his old friends gone. “What’s going on?”

A silent battle of wills unfolds in seconds before your supposed servant steps aside for the Asgardians, rushing to find a robe which he holds up as a shield between you and any spying eyes when you step out of bed until your arms slip through the loose sleeves and you can tie the silk around your body.

In the meantime, Fandral has managed to shake Sif off and he probably would have slammed the door in her face if she wasn’t quick enough to catch it.

“They mock me,” the drunk man tries to explain, “they shay our l-love isnn’t real...”

“That’s not -” Sif sighs deeply – “We might have said it was...one-sided.”

Great. As if things aren’t complicated enough now the living proof of how deep you’ve been digging your own grave is standing in your room at crap in the night, demanding an explanation while Loki looks at you with a smirk hidden from the others – a smirk that only can mean “told you so”.

“Fandral.” You step a bit closer, aware of your only ally moving with you. “You’re a very kind, and sweet man.” Even attractive, a thought adds.

Even in the relative darkness, you can see his eyes are big and round when he looks at you. “Butchu don’t love me...”

“I’m sorry if...I don’t know about Asgardian dating.” Confusion blooms in his and Sif’s eyes. Language barriers be damned. “I mean...courting. Where I’m from, a dinner date doesn’t equal eternal love, for instance...it’s a...a way of getting to know someone.” At least there is understanding mixed with the dejection. “I like your company, yours and the others’...but no. I’m sorry.”

Fandral’s eyes grow distant, his body sort of deflating while your words seem to roll through his brain. Then he straightens (only wobbling slightly) and smiles politely. “I can acshept that. Don’t...don’t think less o’ me for finding you loverly...lovely...” He contemplates the feel of the word before nodding happily. “You shall have my friendship instead. Good night, m’lady.”

... Loki   ...

As soon as the Jotun has closed the door behind the uninvited guests, he can hear [Y/N] plop onto the bed with a groan. You and me both. And still he can’t help but rejoice, the elation of an unknown victory burning through his body and fuelled when he turns to see the woman splayed on the bed with an arm over her face.

[homenum-revelio-hq]

are there resources you suggest for playing trans characters?

I don’t have a “go-to” link (or links) that I can give you, I’m afraid. I’m sure there are loads of great posts out there on tumblr and elsewhere, and I’ve done a quick search to find you a few places to start (links below!), but since gender identity and gender constructs etc. is a subject in which I’ve always been immersed, it’s not something I’ve ever had to search-out a how-to for the writing thereof. Honestly I find it’s a topic best explored and/or explained in story-format (whether fictional or non; prose or oratory) because it’s so entangled with who someone is that the best way to learn about it is to feel it -- to experience it through the lens of an actual person (fictional or real) who lives it. If that makes sense? Gender is such a personal, individual thing that the whole beautiful mess of identity and discovery and labels and self-discovery and determination etc. etc. that it makes it hard (in my opinion) to really encapsulate in a how-to guide sort of resource...but try starting with these:

An Important Note About Pronouns!

A General Overview/Reflection on Trans Characters and Stories

Probably the Closest Thing I Found To a “How To”/”How To Not” Guide

Some Further Tips On What Not To Do

HP Specific: The Attisgalli Corrective Draught (already part of our world building!)

Scriptwriters Trans Tag (this blog is a great resource in general; check their tags!)

Stories That Did It Wrong And How Not To Repeat Their Mistakes

A Detailed Guide to Writing Trans Masculine Characters

A Few Links On Definitions, etc.

*Some of these links are old, so the information contained therein may be outdated or the links within may be defunct; in many cases we also skimmed rather than reading in detail so the merits of their information/terminology may vary. Please use your own discretion and if you need clarification on something don’t be shy about asking, either us or the authors or check in with the fine people at Script LGBT+.

If you really want to immerse yourself in the subject, here are some of my favorite stories that involve exploring identity and transition and so-on:

When The Letter Comes is a beautiful short story that includes both Hogwarts-type tropes and genderqueer characters and it’s available to read online in its entirety for free which makes it a good starting point (it may make you cry. It does me. So good.)

Dreadnought is an impeccable superhero origin story featuring a transgender protagonist and if you want to understand the experience of being a trans woman, I can recommend no better place to start than here because it puts you right inside Dani’s head and takes you along every step of her journey in a way that’s both excruciating and exhilarating and while I wouldn’t classify it as a “guide” to writing trans characters (only because there’s no one way to be/write trans), it should still give you a solid understanding of being trans that you can build from.

The Deep And Dark Blue is an excellent fantasy graphic novel about two royal twins who survive a coup by hiding in a magical convent and I don’t want to give it all away but gender identity is a crux of the plot and its really just lovely.

Snapdragon is a charming (and sometimes charmingly-gross) graphic novel about outcast kids finding friendship and magic and an elderly witch and it does some really lovely stuff with gender and transition along the way.

The graphic novel Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe is a deeply emotional and moving memoir about e’s experience and exploration of eir gender identity that I genuinely cannot recommend enough. (This one also gets you right in the heart.) If you really want to know what it feels like to live outside the assigned-x-at-birth cis-binary box, this is absolutely the number one place I recommend you begin your journey.

The most important thing I think is to keep in mind that there’s no one right way to write a trans character, just like there’s no one right way to be trans. Every person’s life, personality, and experiences are different (just like for cis people). And a trans person is more than just their gender identity and transition experience. That’s just one part of who they are, like being left-handed or allergic to milk or having a good ear for music. It’s part of a person’s life and identity and there’s ways and times it will influence them and their experiences, but it’s not all that they are. Be respectful above all, and remember that even though your character is fictional you’re writing about real people’s identities and experiences too, so your number one rule should be do no harm.

To that end the links in the first section to posts or essays written by trans people about harmful tropes and their own views and experiences on trans depictions in media are a good place to start, because they can tell you what to avoid. For how to, I really think you’ll do best by feeling it first like you do when reading stories like Dreadnought or Gender Queer -- but that’s just me! If anyone else has other links or thoughts to chime-in with, please don’t be shy!

[wifeofkimtaehyungofbts]

Chapter 2

Pairing: Jimin x Y/N

Synopsis: How do you help someone with their emotions if you don’t feel emotions? When your brother’s best friend dies in a tragic car accident and he spirals downwards in depression, you devote yourself to helping him out of his misery. But when his other best friend becomes suicidal following the loss, it isn’t merely about helping them. It’s about saving them.

Word count: 1500+

*****

Monday morning came by fast. I stood in the kitchen waiting for the toaster to do its thing, adjusting my long beige coat over the navy-blue shirt and white denims hugging my figure. Jungkook strolls into the kitchen sleepily, his hair a soft mess.

I smile at the sight of him. “Good morning sleepy head”

He looks up at me but ignores my greeting. He walks over to the table and adjusts himself on the stool as he leans over, grabbing an apple and biting into the hardness with a loud crunch that bounces against the too quiet kitchen walls. I stare at him as I process his state.

My brother has always been overly protective of me; taking care of me day in and day out and putting my happiness over his at any point in his life. He has never behaved in any way unpleasant or disapproving to me. From his no-good-morning to him ignoring my presence, bothered me more than it should.

“Kookie” I say. “I’m making toast butter bread for us”

He doesn’t even lift his head to look at me. A frown settles on my brows as I make my way to him. I stand a few feet away from him and place a head on his shoulder.

“Dude, what’s with the low energy? What’s up with you this morning?” I ask, concerned.

He roughly shrugs my hand off as he looks at me with one eye, the other covered by his thick bangs.

“Low energy?” he asks in his gruff morning voice. “I didn’t know sad people had to keep up bright appearances” he chuckles sarcastically.

I blink several times, swallowing hard. It’s only been a week, Y/N. How could you expect him to have recovered already?

Feeling like a complete jackass, I run my fingers through his messy bed hair. “You should stay in today, without going to work” I smile warmly.

“That was the plan anyway, you didn’t have to tell me” he stands up, my arm falling to my side as I watch him walk away and disappear around the corner of the hallway. I stand there, feeling empty and lonely after experiencing a new side of my brother I’ve never before had the unfortune to meet.

***

Carrying a mountain of files up six flights of stairs because the elevator was under maintenance was not an easy feat for someone in 4-inch-high heels and a too-tight pencil skirt. Too bad for me, I had to change out of my beautifully fitting white pants this morning when I was mindlessly making coffee for the first time just for me instead of for both Jungkook and I. I reached over for my coffee mug and ending up knocking it over my lap with the back of my hand. The hot darkness soaked the pure white of my pants and before I could scream, it had already drawn maps across my pants. I changed into a pencil skirt a size too small and now I’m suffering the consequences of choosing style over comfort with my attire.

I make my way step by step painfully up the stairs, barely being able to stretch my legs to lift them over each stair.

“May I help you?” I hear a deep voice from in front of me. I groan and grunt as my tired arms attempt to move the files out of my sight so I can see the man standing before me. A weight is suddenly lifted off my arms and I gasp loudly, staring at the face of my savior. Before me stands a very tall, handsome man with soft cheeks and brown hair parted at the side. I have to remind myself to stop staring because that is all you can do at the sight of this very handsome man.

“Uh...” I try to find my words lost in my head cramped with inappropriate thoughts of this man.

He cocks an eyebrow at me and the gesture has me tumbling backwards mentally before I scold myself to get a grip. “I actually have to get these to floor 3 within the next 3mins” I mumble.

The man smiles gently at me, his eyes turning into crescents. He turns on his heel and takes long strides, taking two steps at a time as he swiftly makes his way up to the third floor. I take much longer to reach the third floor, but when I do, I find him standing there waiting for me.

“It needs to be dropped off at Jin’s desk” I say, already making my way to the table at the very end belonging to the most handsome man in our company, Kim Seokjin. As I approach him, he lifts his head from the stack of papers he had it buried in. His plump lips turn upwards in a warm smile as his sparkling eyes take in my presence. Jin takes off his round glasses and straightens himself in the seat. He rolls back his wide, muscular shoulders and cracks his neck.

“It’s been a crazy week y/n” he sighs, holding the back of his thick neck.

“I bet! You look rather exhausted” I take note of the bags under his eyes and red nose, probably from staying up all night in the soon approaching winter and waking up too early.

I turn to the man behind me who is already placing the files on top of Jin’s desk. Jin watches as the man scrunches his nose when he clumsily placed the files, knocking over Jin’s pencil holder. Pens and highlighters sprawl across Jin’s desk and he can only sigh at this obvious behavior from the embarrassed man in front of him.

“Namjoon Namjoon Namjoon” Jin shakes his head. “How many times have I told you not to be so quick with your movements if you know you are clumsy beyond fixing?”

Jin pinches the bridge of his nose as he picks up the colourful mess in front of him.

“Sorry I was just trying to help this pretty lady” Namjoon scratches the side of his head.

Namjoon.

And he called me pretty!

I have to mentally slap myself out of this new found, fascinating information as I finish placing the files in order on top of Jin’s desk.

“Thank you for helping me” I bow to Namjoon and Jin before heading off back downstairs to the comfort of my own desk, away from the eyes of two handsome men out of my league.

***

The rest of the day goes by too slowly, work after work piling onto my lap as I try my best to finish them all off so I don’t have to take my work home. I am strict on keeping my personal life and professional life as separate as possible.

As I type fast, my mind wanders to my brother away from the tap tap tap of my fingers on the black keyboard. I wanted to call him, ask him how he’s holding up and whether he wants me to cook for him tonight or he would want to do it by himself as he does on most nights. I conclude with take away on my way home after deciding with myself.

I reach for my mobile phone to call him and decide against it. He probably wants to be left alone.

Opening a new tab on my search engine, I type HOW TO COMFORT SOMEONE AFTER THEY EXPERIENCE A LOSS.

Articles pop up from blogs, newspapers, magazines and even from question-answer platforms. I skim through most of them but is left dissatisfied. They all talk of being there for them and listening to their worries so they do not collect their frustrations but none of it is relatable to me. For someone who doesn’t feel emotions like normal people.

How can I be there for my brother or empathize with his internal frustrations if I cannot comprehend the mere situation itself? I know Taehyung meant a lot to him, being one of his first best friends and helping my brother come out of his introverted shell. But I do not understand how much he meant to my brother. How lost and torn my brother feels over his passing. I have never felt such strong emotions and the only loss I have experienced was my father and I do not recall being torn and devastated over it. I was sad, obviously, but not lost nor did I hide inside a shell unwilling to move with the world and move on with my life.

I sigh as I stare at the smiling sticker in the upper right corner of my office computer. Oh, how wonderful it must feel to feel so deeply! My mind wanders as I think about if I may ever get to experience such overwhelming emotions as pure bliss or utter terror.

***

Previous / Next

[spockandawe]

HEY THERE, you have me interested in The Untamed but I'm a little lost as to where to start, there's both a 50 episode normal version and a 20 episode special edition, which should I watch/start with? Also WHAT does your svsss tag stand for? I'm seeing "The Untamed" and "Chén Qíng Lìng" and "Mo Dao Zu Shi" and "Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation" thrown around as synonyms or related pieces of media, but nothing with svsss!

Sure thing!!

Okay, to start with, I’d definitely go with the 50-episode version. It’s a Lot, and there is some padding added to the story compared to the original book, but twenty episodes seems really, really short to do justice to the central plot 

(a quick skim of google tells me that the special edition leans harder into the original novel’s gayness, which the show has to be coy about, because china. i think there are expanded scenes featuring the two leads, which is awesome, because their acting is AMAZING, but that just means the plot scenes are even more compressed. I saw at least one person recommend that you not do the special edition unless you’ve consumed the story in at least one other more standard format already)

Also! Iirc, the show is available on youtube and netflix, among other platforms, though those two are wonderfully accessible. However, comma, I do hear from people fluent in chinese that the subtitles sometimes are inaccurate in unnecessary/unfortunate ways. From what I hear, viki has the best complete set of subtitles (I think there may be fansub projects in progress, but I am not at all in touch with those. I still haven’t watched the show myself).

And the general summary of my current webnovel fixation! There’s this webnovel author who goes by mxtx, who currently has three complete books out, which have all been translated into english. Then after I finished those, I started branching out into other authors and webnovels, though I’m not too deep into that end of the pool yet. I’ll break each book into a separate paragraph for clarity. 

Oh, and. Each of these books is explicitly gay, and set in ancient fantasy china, in a wuxia/xianxia setting, which I’m not too familiar with myself, but I believe it functions a lot like how authors will use ‘ancient fantasy europe’ as a playground where they don’t necessarily need to match up to established countries/cities/etc, but they expect readers to recognize certain conventions, like I’d be able to recognize a western author writing a basic feudal setting, or recognize witches and wizards, without them explaining the whole thing from the bottom up. Since I’m not familiar, it raised the difficulty level a little for me to get into the genre, but the webnovel translators tend to use footnotes and I picked up a lot as I went on.

(if you are interested in any of these, novelupdates.com is a good central resource collecting links to various fan translation projects)

So! Mxtx. Her earliest book is The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (SVSSS), which is also the shortest and most linear of her books. The general premise is that a guy who’s been hate-reading this (straight) stallion harem webnovel with a dark protagonist. He goes to bed, and wakes up in the novel, as the protagonist’s dickbag teacher, who is doomed to eventually die horribly. He wants to not die, and is also a decent human being, so the book follows the “original” novel derailing from its intended path, and accidentally getting super duper gay. This one is about to come out in donghua form, but I think that may be its first non-book adaption.

Her second book, which was adapted into The Untamed/Chen Qing Ling (CQL), is also known as The Grandmaster Of Demonic Cultivation/Mo Dao Zu Shi (MDZS), which really manages to be the hardest of her books to summarize. Wei Wuxian, the grandmaster of demonic cultivation, dies. Thirteen years later, he wakes up in someone else’s body. Most of the world would like him to stay dead, tbh, but he’s a good egg, and he and his old friend(????) go forth and solve a necromantic mystery together, and also there is romance-romance and ten million family feelings. This one gets nonlinear, with several extended flashback sequences, and the story STARTS at about the midway point of the plot. This has been adapted into an audio drama at least once, a manhua, a donghua, and now a live action show, so it goes by a million different names in its various formats.

Her third book, and the LONGEST, is Heaven Official’s Blessing/Tian Guan Ci Fu (TGCF), and oh my god, it’s so long, and I love it so, so much. This gets into high fantasy much  more than the other two, including the idea that as people develop their cultivation and powers, they may eventually achieve immortality and ascend to the heavens. The story follows Xie Lian who achieved immortality and ascended to heaven! And then fell. And then ascended! And fell again. Eight hundred years later, he ascends for the third time. He meets Hua Cheng, the ridiculously powerful ghost king, who most of the other immortals are terrified of. But Hua Cheng seems to like Xie Lian! And Xie Lian thinks Hua Cheng is a sweet boy! (hua cheng is a sweet boy, but only for xie lian). This also has extended flashback sequences, but is a more linear story than MDZS, I think. Also it made me cry, which, wow, rude. I love it so incredibly much. This also exists as a manhua, but I think it’s still being published? I haven’t read it yet.

NOW. Mxtx is working on a fourth book, but it’s not out in chinese yet, never mind english. But I needed More. I was getting some SVSSS vibes from this one other book, which, *wobbly hand motions*, but I am enjoying the hell out of this book purely for its own sake.

Meatbun is an author with other books that I haven’t read yet, but I am currently in the middle of The Husky And His White Cat Shizun/Er Ha He Ta De Bai Mo Shi Zun (Erha/2ha), which is at this moment being adapted to a live action tv show called Immortality. There are MANY warnings that go with this book, though the google docs translation files do a good job of placing warnings at the front of every document and in front of relevant chapters. The general premise! Mo Ran basically conquered the entire world, put down all resistance by force, and was a super powerful but Kinda Dumb emperor. As part of this, he took his old teacher, who he despised with a burning passion, prisoner, and abused him a Lot. The story starts as rebels try to mount an assault on his palace, and Mo Ran’s cousin gets impatient with how slowly things are moving and runs ahead of the group. He finds that (suicide warning:) Mo Ran has... taken poison, and is in the middle of dying. This doesn’t stick. He wakes up as a teenager, apparently having traveled back in time, and starts living through events again, with the knowledge of his past life. It took me a while to warm up to this story, but ohhhh my goodness, it’s so TASTY. The translation for this one is ongoing, and I am in AGONY waiting for further updates.

So those are the ones I’m currently into and mostly blogging about! I also read Dreamer In The Spring Boudoir, mostly because feynite wrote an SVSSS fic set in the universe of that novel, which was good in some ways, left me cold in others (and the original novel is straight, with a society with rigid gender roles, so making it super gay in the fic made the setting much more interesting to me). Meatbun has other writing, which I haven’t sampled yet, but I am definitely interested in doing that sometime soon. 

Sorry, I know this is a LOT, so if you have any other questions feel free to ask me!! I got into these mostly via being interested in the untamed, so I read them as 1) mdzs, 2) svsss, 3) tgcf, 4) erha, which was an order that worked well for me. But if someone was looking for a general order to read them in, independent of that, I might suggest 1) svsss, 2) mdzs, 3) tgcf, 4) erha. They’re all really good, and scratch different emotional itches, and each of them has at least a few characters who sucker-punch me RIGHT in the goddamn heart. They’ve been a HUGE help for me dealing with the restlessness and/or apathy of quarantine, so I’ve been evangelizing them to pretty much anyone who will listen to me, hahaha

[twistnet]

christmas morning [ eddie diaz ]

CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN PROMPT ─ day 25 [ “wake up, it’s christmas.” ]

WARNINGS ─ female!reader + general fluff

you awoke to a hand skimming along the expanse of your back, coaxing you from your sleep. you turned, finding eddie looking over at you with a bright smile, hair fluffed and sticking up in different directions.

“merry christmas, amor.” he whispers, pressing his lips against yours for a loving kiss. he hums contently, thumb brushing against your cheek.

“is it too early to get chris?” you question, sparing a glance to the alarm clock seated on the nightstand. it’s only just a few minutes past seven, and after a quick nod of assurance from eddie, you are both up and quietly making your way to chris’ room.

the young boy is passed out under his blankets, snoring softly as you and eddie make your way into his bedroom. you let eddie wake chris, standing back and smiling as the boy starts to stir from his sleep.

“wake up, it’s christmas.” eddie utters gently to his son, watching with delight as chris’ face morphs into one of happiness paired with a bright smile. he rushes to push the covers from his legs, eddie helping get his glasses on before the three of you head for the living room.

chris squeals excitingly as he takes a seat on the couch, taking the stocking from your outstretch hands before tearing through the contents. eddie settles in next to him, looking over the little candies and toys chris shows him from the stocking.

eddie moves the items to the side, allow for room as you hand chris his first gift, one from his dad. you watch as he rips open the paper, gasping happily when he pulls a new set of dinosaur pajamas from the box, “these are so cool, dad!” eddie chuckles, pressing a kiss the boys head, “you’re growing out of the ones you have, figured it was time for an upgrade.”

the two of you watch as chris opens all his various gifts -- ranging from toys, books and clothing. all of the gifts either from you and eddie, his abeula, carla, buck, or other family still living in texas.

chris shuffles off the couch after thanking you for his gifts, heading for the tree as he pulls out two gifts, smiling brightly as he hands them to you and eddie, “these are for you!” you chuckle, taking the gift from the boy to unwrap it on your lap.

you briefly hear eddie thank chris for his gift, pulling the boy in for a tight hug as you pull back the tissue paper to find a picture frame. inside, a recent picture of the three of you at the firehouse, but that isn’t the part that takes you by surprise.

the words ‘best mom’ are painted along the bottom of the picture frame, bringing tears to brim you eyes as you look up at chris. eddie quickly notices the tears, rushing to see what had caused the change of emotion when he sees the wording, “but i’m....” you trail off, not exactly sure how to word what you were trying to say.

chris just smiles, shrugging his shoulders, “but you read me stories, and you cook dinner, and help me with my homework, and you love my dad... those are all the things that a mom does.” tears flow from your eyes as you pull him in for a hug, whispering a ‘thank you’ as you press a kiss to his forehead.

chris moves off to gather some of his new toys, taking them to his room as you shift in your seat. hesitant to make eye contact with eddie. you brave it, sparing him a glance to notice he has tears forming in his eyes. you go to comfort him when he stops you, pressing a kiss to your lips before leaning his forehead against yours, “don’t let your head fill up with doubt, you are everything i could have wished for, for me and my son. i’m okay with it.” you nod, smiling as you lean in to press another kiss to his lips.

blog navigation ⇢ [ christmas countdown masterlist ]

✧ christmas countdown taglist

@jolyne-cuj0h​ | @destiny-tsukino​ | @rosey1981​ | @multifandomlesbianic | @badbatch-simp24 | @beth-gallagher22 | @itstaylorcale | @clearlynox | @borderlinedindjarin | @nyx2021 | @nicole13letson | @hotchsbabygirl | @fandom-but-chaotic | @kai-vania | @mcueveryday​​​ | @emily-kald​​​ | @mrspeacem1nusone​​​ | @caswinchester2000​​​

[flightofaqrow]

🌟

Send 🌟 for lines of your writing that I enjoy a lot!

There’s probably a billion more that I could toss in here, but I’m pulling stuff that immediately jump to mind from my favorite threads, and what I can peep doing an archive skim. I’ll probably miss ones I really adored at the time IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO PICK WITH YOU OKAY.

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Speaks lots about his character that he would drink it dry over mixed. A concoction often mixed with water for its taste. Something you sip, not drown yourself in.

And Qrow drowns.

He drowns himself in everything that he consumes. From the busted pack of cheap Parliaments in his pants pocket to the oxygen that he breathes. Knows no such thing as self-control. The one variable in his life that he seeks to restrain forever flowing freely from his fingertips. Feels the glass slip from his grasp and its only luck that he catches it before it clatters onto the counter.

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Wracked with guilt, Qrow pushes himself away from the counter onto shaky feet to look the other properly. Ozpin only taller by a few inches. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, wet with booze and now tears that fell unprompted. The death of many weighing heavily on his conscious.

“I’m so… stupid,” Qrow breathed out finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence that fell between them.

“Everyone said not to, and I did.” A bitter laugh and Qrow’s face is all but happy. Twisted up in sadness and sorrow as he looked the other with pleading eyes.

“I gave you everything,” He breathed out, voice barely audible, “And you couldn’t give me the truth.”

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PLAY ALONG for now, mister.

Nothing more needed to be said as a warm body cozies up against his side, Qrow only mere seconds away from downing his third shot of Scotch. Sets the glass back down and he knows a trap when he sees one. Knows when a game is being played, having been one who played such games when he was younger, before Beacon.

A ploy harder to keep with age.

And age shows well on Qrow. It’s the weapon secured on the small of his black and the title he’s earned for himself that makes playing hard. He’s not as cute or coy about it anymore. Too well seasoned and trained for cheap party tricks. Secures information in more adult manner now.

A smirk graces plush lips as she leaned in, the smell of cheap perfume tickling his senses. Hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her forward and around, so she was trapped between him and the counter of the bar itself.

“Say no more, doll.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He’s hunched over the edge of a crate in the middle of a fucking alleyway in Mantle during a patrol. Clover the unfortunate sap stuck to tend to the huntsman in his current nauseated state of being. Withdrawal symptoms hitting him at the worse possible time and all he wants is for it to end.

A moment of peace in his life devoid of pain and suffering. He wants to breathe and be at ease. No fear of his semblance and what harm it could bring. No fear of being hurt and left behind to die. Could count the times he’s been left behind by the tribe to waste away. Liquor his saving grace from his misery.

Numbed the hurt and gave him something better to feel in return.

This, this was not better. This was miserable and god awful. This needed to end right now and all Qrow wants to do right now is to bitch and gripe about it. Shoves the hand reaching out to smooth his hair back away as he hurled once more.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There’s a clench of his stomach in response. Empty. The idea of eating is unappealing to the Branwen however. The body wants, but Qrow does not feel the urge to feed it. Craving for liquor and basic necessities all merged into one, he can’t quite tell the difference anymore.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

HE’S QUICK. He has to be. Doesn’t have muscles oozing off of him like every other huntsman he knows. No where like anyone else in the tribe.  Qrow is all speed and skill. A natural talent honed in on to make up for the everything that follows him. He over compensates for being a bad luck charm. The movement is fluid. A  smooth transition, from running up on the Grimm, the fall of his footsteps quiet and controlled, to the extension of Harbinger. Qrow pirouettes from first position to second and swings down into third. Harbinger’s blade slicing clean through with each transition as he comes into place in front of Clover. Stops mere inches from slicing the other in half with his scythe. Cool metal starring dangerously into the face of the other.

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[ THIS IS A PLACEHOLDER FOR ONE I CAN’T FIND. THERE WAS AN AWESOME METAPHOR/TURN OF PHRASE WITH CLOVER AND CARDS AND I THINK A BLACKJACK REFERENCE AND FOR THE LIFE OF ME I CANNOT FIND IT!!! I liked it so much I read it out loud to my husband oh my god I’m so mad I don’t remember when it was... ]

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I won’t copy/post nsfw stuff, it might even be weird to mention it but uuhhhhhh THIS WHOLE ANSWER

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It’s like kissing ink on paper, bitter with a touch of something else underneath. Meant to stain and leave an impression. 

[ oddly enough the first half of the imagery with these lines kind of had a disconnect for me, because while I appreciated the hell out of the reference I couldn’t see why black coffee would need to be shaken OR stirred, so I wasn’t exactly sure what was being communicated. THE INK METAPHOR HIT ME HARD THO. especially with the concept of it being a layered thing. ]

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[JUST INSERT THE ENTIRE F’ING THREAD WITH STAT’S RAVEN OKAY. BUT UGH I GUESS I’LL PICK SOME]

Free them all from the burden of carving out their hearts and stabbing it into the trees of the woods where it can be maimed and torn apart by the very same creatures they hunt.

They’ve fought many times before and now should be no different to rekindle their love for one another. What she did hurts, but nothing hurts more than having a part of him forcibly torn away. To see her suffering further than he can feel from afar.

They’ve wounded each other enough as it is. Not a part of them scratch free. Their blades permanently carved into one another. Said things neither one of them truly meant and felt nothing, but each other’s pain in return. Tears shed from both twins, strong and overwhelmed with the emotional force combined by both parties.

Reaches out the only way he knows how, by baring himself whole. Put his emotions on display in it’s rawest form. Knows nothing else, but how to be honest. Tells her with little words that he still feels everything that she feels, if not more that she ever could. “I’m here, Raven.”

A hive abandoned by it’s own Queen is destined to die. Wither away blindly completing tasks with no end-goal.

He tightens his grip around her hand, rings pressing into the other’s skin. Only then is he mindful of how tight it exactly gotten. Something akin to fear in his hold. Like if he doesn’t take this, take all of it, she’ll slip away from him again and he’ll be here. Standing alone in the rain with an empty hand reminiscent of warmth he craves. Warmth that could only be fulfilled by her.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

[ I should actually do some of OURS huh... lmao]

No, Qrow offers himself up on a silver platter. Highlights his best features and puts it on display with the intention of captivating anyone who inched too close.

His next drink is lined up and Qrow circles the rim with his index finger. Feels the welcoming warmth of intoxication slowly begun to consume him. Combs through his hair with a level of familiarity and comfort he’s grown far too accustomed with. Beckons him to coo in delight at the sensation.

This conversation is far too convoluted to keep his interest. There is both nothing and everything going on at the same time and Qrow has little interest in thinking. If he was looking for a chat, he would have reported back to Ozpin hours ago. He would have followed through with his meeting with James, but he has done none and neither of these things.

He smiled as Briar laced their hand together, swinging their arms back and forth as they walked the streets of Mantle post-drinking spurge. Wherever it is their feet leads them is wherever they will go for the night. It doesn’t matter as long as she’s by his side.

Sweet is the first word to come to mind at such a brazen promise being bestowed upon him. Briar is sweet. How could she not be? Gentle in nature with consideration tucked under her belt. A dosage of sugar and spice he never knew he needed in his life. She is fun and a blast in the wake of his somber lifestyle.

Makes a request for rum and ginger ale, something sweet to satisfy his tongue. Far too odd for him to simply order whiskey on the rocks in a club. A drink meant for isolation, not mingling.

He pulls back and Qrow brushed at her shoulder with his hands to get rid of everything that left him. Disgusting as it is. Small smile on his lips as nervous laughter follows next. Doesn’t know what to do with himself as he stood there awkwardly, drenched to the bone in Briar’s apartment. “Hey,” he tried, “I’m back.” What else can he say after all that? The moment gone and Qrow more than ready to move on like it never happened.

It’s Briar! Qrow LOVES Briar. Qrow loves Briar except for when Briar is being the most Briar she can be and this, long pointed finger in his face as vermilion eyes narrowed at the sight of painted nails mere inches away from his nose as he drank is the least version of Briar he liked. Briar with a point.

The people outside the tribe far too fragile about their precious masculinity and feminity. Whereas Qrow could not care about these gender norms they aspire to. He sees a pretty outfit. He wants to wear it. It’s as simple as that.

OKAY ITS BEEN HOURS I NEED TO STOP AND MOVE ON BUT I COULD CONTINUE FOR MORE HOURS. I WANTED TO PUT SOME SIENNA ON HERE TOO BUT THIS IS SO LONG ALREADY SEND FROM THAT BLOG IF U WANT IT I GUESS. OKAY. ILU BEST BITCHHH

[haro-whumps]

Box Boy Photoshoot

(CW: slavery, brainwashing, dehumanization, creepy+intimate whumper)

Tag list:  @thatsthewhump @whump-it @ashintheairlikesnow @fairybean101 @finder-of-rings @comfortforthepain @shameless-whumper @that-one-thespian @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @raigash @im-not-rare-im-rarr @spiffythespook

Masterlist

“Hello, ma’am?”

Ren was blithely ignoring Soren’s second week of lyric dancing, their laptop out in front of them and a mug of cider steaming softly nearby. Soren was sweaty and panting hard on the other side of the glass, the sole student of this particular dance instructor, and thus, the recipient of her undivided attention. 

Across from them, a man in a suit was sitting down. The table was built for one. 

“Hello, ma’am!” he tried again, and again Ren did not lift their eyes from their computer screen. But they supposed he wouldn’t leave if they only ignored him. 

“Not a ma’am,” they said blandly. 

“Ah, hello sir?”

“Not a sir,” they said with a sip from their mug, eyes still on their laptop.

“Valued customer!” the man said brightly. They lifted their eyes and paused their music, but their headphones remained in. “I am a representative of Whumpee’s-R-Us’s marketing team, Jon Dillan!” he said brightly, extending his hand over the top of Ren’s laptop. Ren shook the outstretched hand, then immediately pulled out their bottle of travel hand sanitizer and did not care that he could see them squirt out a bit and coat their hands. They knew the statistics about men and public bathrooms. Filthy things, men’s hands.

“A pleasure to meet you, I’m sure,” Ren said flatly, still not sure why their Monday evening was being interrupted, but curious enough to scrounge up some manners. After all, if this man proved valuable, they could definitely use him.

“We here at Whumpee’s-R-Us are releasing a new advertising campaign, encouraging the destitute and desperate to exchange their lives for comfort and splendor, and perhaps sparking a little good-natured competition among valued customers like yourself to buy our more lavish products,” Jon said with a wink that might have been sly and conspiratory if he weren’t holding himself so stiffly. Ren did have to give him points for his facial expressions, though, if only his spine weren’t… like that.

“I see,” Ren prompted, removing one earbud. Jon did not miss it, and took the cue as Ren had intended it.

“We’ve noticed that your pet is very well cared for, as well as quite attractive, in a perfectly objective sense,” Jon rushed on the last part, holding up a hand in easy submission. Ren’s possessive flare of emotion sputtered in their chest, unshown and largely unfelt. Yes, Soren was attractive, and yes, Ren did like flaunting that fact, and they appreciated that the man quelled their other concerns so they could simply enjoy showing off their lovely, lovely boy. “Would you have any interest in allowing us to feature him in our campaign?”

“That depends,” Ren said, removing their other earbud. “What would featuring him entail?”

“Largely just photographs, ideally within your home so as to illustrate the lavish life available to those who sign up for the program. A brief interview would be conducted, mostly just to mine for quotable material, and you will, of course, be compensated for the use of your pet. A standardized rate is, quite naturally, more than available to you, however, we also noticed that you bring your box boy here frequently for classes, and my supervisor has approved offering you unlimited free classes for all and any of your Whumpee’s-R-Us brand pets, present and future, should you so desire it.”

Ren tapped their index fingers in front of their chin, the rest of their fingers steepled, and then asked, “Would you be negotiable towards adding harpist courses, if I choose the second arrangement?” Soren had dance on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so, “On Sundays, specifically.” Their angel playing a harp on Sunday. Perfect.

“I can certainly look into it!” Jon said amicably, and Ren shut their laptop, lacing their fingers and resting their chin on the backs, staring vacantly at Soren. The lyric dance instructor had taken two warnings not to touch property that wasn’t hers, but had remained hands-off since. 

Ren weighed the pros and cons. They liked showing off; a lot. They liked the idea of other people knowing that Soren was theirs, that he was their precious, beautiful pet. They liked the idea of free classes, and since emailing the company hadn’t worked, strong-arming them into adding harp lessons was just as well, as long as Ren’s goal was accomplished in the end. Their home would be the setting, secure, their domain. There was nothing that came immediately to mind in way of downsides.

“Draft up a contract and email it to me; I’d prefer to look over it before forwarding it to my lawyer,” Ren said, digging out a business card and handing it to Jon. “In the contract, ensure that there is a statute that all photographers, interviewers, and assorted Whumpee’s-R-Us staff will not touch the pet in question, and that they will remove their shoes and any coats or jackets in the entryway or foyer.” They didn’t want dirt and germs getting tracked all over their carpets. 

Jon seemed a little taken aback by the second point, though perfectly expectant of the first.

“If harp lessons can be provided, I would prefer the option of free classes. If not, I am negotiable on the fee, but will largely be leaving that to the discretion of my lawyer.” Well, their mama’s lawyer, but she’d been their lawyer for as long as they’d needed one, so she could certainly be counted as theirs.

“Marvelous,” Jon said with a bright smile, and extended his hand again, before thinking the better of it.

“Agreed,” Ren said, lifting their mug with a tilt of their head, and then took a sip. They’d spent enough time contemplating the offer that the class was now over, Soren coming into the viewing area on shaking legs and sinking to his knees at Ren’s feet. On reflex, they carded their fingers through his (damp, sweaty) hair. 

“Well, I’d better get on that then. I’ll send you the contract as soon as it’s drafted, and it was a pleasure speaking with you…” Jon glanced at the business card. “Ren.”

“Likewise. I look forward to our arrangement.”

Soren glanced up at Jon’s retreating back, then turned his big, doe-eyes on Ren. “Exalted?”

Ren smiled down at him. “You just might be a model, Soren,” Ren said, “In all likelihood, you will be. Whumpee’s-R-Us need pretty little Box Boys in their new homes for a campaign they’re running, and you’re terribly pretty, and I have a very lovely home. They’re going to come take your picture and ask you a couple questions, sometime sooner or later.”

Soren’s hand lifted to his collar, gripping it gently, and Ren smiled at the sight. “And, you’ll be there?”

“The whole time, angel,” Ren said. Like they’d ever allow strangers to wander about their home unsupervised, and like they’d ever leave Soren alone with any of them.

Soren smiled up with relief, with devotion, and Ren kissed their sweaty hairline. “Come, pet, let’s get you home and in the shower.”

“Yes, Ren,” Soren said with a contented sigh.

The next evening, Ren received an email containing the contract, which they read over. They did have a degree in law, a minor, but still, so they largely understood it and approved of its contents, but forwarded it to their lawyer anyway to double check. She had one suggested revision, which Ren took, and the Whumpee’s-R-Us legal department accepted it without fuss. Wednesday, Soren had ballet classes, so it was Thursday that a modest crew appeared on Ren’s front doorstep.

“Welcome, please remove your shoes,” they greeted, holding the door open. They’d taken great pleasure in dressing Soren up just so, that day, and he struck a particularly beautiful figure, hanging nervously behind Ren. His hair was long again, long enough that Ren wasn’t going to buy any more of the specialized products for growth, now focusing on maintenance and hair health, and the color was that perfect gold. All the time spent on the balcony had left his skin honeyed and deeply freckled once more. He was wearing fluttering white and off-white clothing, the sleeves rippling bells around his wrists, the pants loose with a skirt cape trailing the carpet behind him. And all over him was gold, golden jewelry, golden makeup, gold nails, a gold belt.

They snapped a couple photos of Soren in the living room, perched in the kitchen, but Ren suspected those were just warm up shots. Soren’s room was obviously the location for the photos, more to the point, and better suited to Soren’s appearance. They took many photos in Soren’s bedroom, some of him settled on the settee, some with him snuggled comfortably, though lavishly, on his overly plush bed, the cushions and the duvet half-hiding his face, golden hair giving him a curtain that added intrigue. The balcony shots were particularly appealing, the wind was really working with them that day, and when a particularly strong gust blew a lock of hair into Soren’s face and he instinctively reached up to push it back, the camera shutter sounded like a quiet machine gun, it was going off so fast. 

He was so candid, so genuinely sweet and precious, so beautiful, the photographers hardly had to do more than vaguely direct him and they were provided with more material than they had likely anticipated.

“If we may interview the pet, now?” the woman in charge asked Ren, and they nodded their head with a sweep of their hand as though to say “go ahead.”

“And I will, naturally, be receiving every one of those photos, as per our arrangement,” Ren mentioned to the photographer, who was flipping through the camera, skimming through the selection. He gave them a good natured chuckle and a quick thumbs-up.

The interview really was just a mine for quotes, and Soren spent a large portion of it with his hand on his collar, smoothing his thumb over the plate that bore his name. Soren. The name that Ren had given him, the inscription proof that they owned every inch of him, from his body to his mind down to his very identity.

“Soren,” Ren called when they were done, “Heel.”

Soren was at their feet in and instant, pressed up against their leg, his body singing with relief. “Well done, darling.” Ren turned their eyes to the photographer. “One more?” Ren suggested, before squatting down, hand on the curve of Soren’s neck, and pressed a kiss to his temple. The camera shutter clicked.

“And yes, you may use that in your campaign if you want,” Ren said airily, standing back up. Soren looked up at them with an adoring smile, and followed after as Ren saw the crew out.

“Do you really think they’ll use me, Exalted?” Soren asked quietly after the door had closed, watching their cars and van turning on through the panel windows. 

Ren tweaked his nose between two fingers, jiggling his head a little. “Of course, darling, they’d be fools not to.”

Ren went to pour themself a drink, and then mentioned, off-handedly. “Oh, and you’re enrolled in harp classes on Sundays, now.”

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