#ever again and also I might get a lamp this year (!) I have heard that someone has already printed out the lamp form

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[poorwritingandstalecoffee]

in vita, in media morte sumus. Ch.2

WC: 1800

Ch.2

Knock! Knock’

“—I- I’m sorry I have to go.” Larissa glanced at her wristwatch and sighed. “I forgot I had a meeting at 9.”

“Oh! Is it the new Adam’s girl?”

Larissa pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed again. “Yes, Vlad, if you must know. Now, I’d like to maintain my punctual reputation and not give Morticia another aspect of my character to comment on.”

“ Okay, okay…I’ll let you get to it.” Larissa could hear him chuckling on the other end at the tension in her voice, and she snapped the phone shut.

Larissa stood up and smoothed down her white dress. Deep breaths, smile, placate, and it will be over in no time. Larissa raised her head and took measured steps toward the door. It’s fine; she’ll jest with you, Gomez, with smile, and you’ll welcome the new addition to Nevermore.

Larissa placed her hand on the doorknob. Please, god, don’t let her be like Wednesday.

Larissa opened the door and stood there. She smiled and felt her face freeze as she looked from Gomez to Morticia, smiling with a screeching “Rissa!” then to you.

Larissa looked you up and down and felt anxious for a different reason she could not name. She watched you turn your bored gaze from the kids walking down the hallway to her. Larissa felt her cheeks burning as your eyes slowly moved up her figure with a slow calculation.

You observed her heels, her long legs that bent at the knee and straightened repeatedly, her fidgeting clasped hands, the pressed white dress, her long neck, the veins and arteries tensing from her quickening pulse. You slowly smirked as your eyes moved over pristine red lips, smiling at you in masked anxiety, smooth white skin, and finally, pale blue eyes that widened under fluttering black eyelashes.

Larissa heard her pulse pounding in her ears as she watched your eyes narrow at her. She knew your reputation, your murderous history. Half of Larissa was afraid you might kill her with your bare hands right then just for the fun of it. The other half was just as scared you might do something else…and that she wanted you too.

“Larissa…,” Morticia raised an eyebrow and chuckled at her. “I hope we haven’t stepped that far out of your good graces to warrant such silence. Is Wednesday so terrible, dear?”

Larissa flinched. “What? Ohh, no, no. My apologies. Come in, come in.” Larissa said hastily and moved aside.

You stepped inside and glanced over the office's interior, noting little hints of Larissa scattered throughout the space. The bookshelf was filled with favorites of hers, no doubt. The carpet, the worn-in couch next to the fireplace, the glowing lamps scattered throughout the place, and the steaming coffee cup sporting red lipstick print.

Larissa hurried back to the safety of her desk and sat down, straightened the papers on her desk, shut her laptop, and turned her coffee cup an inch. When she felt her heart slowly calm down, she clasped her hands on the desk and turned toward the Addams family with a smile.

“So, Ms. Addams, you’re Wednesday’s older sister by four years. She has mentioned you a few times, and I can certainly see who her role model is.”

Sitting between Morticia and Gomez, you turn your head slightly to eye her unease, hiding behind the sweet civility. “Hmm, based on the telling of recent horrors occurring within this place, I’d say I taught her more skills for survival and detection than any of your staff was able to do within a year.”

“Ahh, yes, we’ve increased the security measures for hiring staff and securing the school. We’ve also established new policies with the Jericho mayor for creating better connections and awareness between the outcast and normie communities.” Larissa smiled through her sigh and clenched her hands tighter. “Nevermore is now safer for outcasts than it has ever been.”

You smirked. “I could have made that happen for you in one night. All with a single swipe of a knife.”

“Des, dear, it’s impolite to murder the town before getting to know its inhabitants.” Morticia glanced at Gomez, who winked at her.

They glanced at Larissa, who took a deep breath and said, “I’m sure you could, but unless you wish to return to your old metal room, I’d suggest not.”

“Who's to say I’d get caught.”

“The news and media outlets that are burning the image of your incarcerated profile and murder charges into the minds of every single normie in the town, let alone the country.”

You leaned back with crossed arms. “I was only caught because I let a single rat escape her little hole. I won’t make that mistake again. Even with you, Principal Weems.”

Larissa’s breath hitched, and she felt rooted to the spot under your gaze.

Gomez and Morticia looked at each other, then at you and Larissa. Gomez slowly said, “My little dagger, give Larissa a chance. She’s like us and only wants you to have a wonderful time here at Nevermore. Just like your sister did.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “I won’t kill her.”

Morticia leaned toward you. “Promise?”

You glanced at Larissa and felt shocked that a small part of you hated the familiar look she was giving you. Then the feeling was gone. Smirking again, you said, “We’ll see.”

Larissa shivered under your cold glare. She cleared her throat and pulled the folder from a pile beside her laptop. “Well, let’s, umm, talk about your educational background.”

She flipped open the folder and flicked through the papers, citing your countless transfers from each underfunded public school to the next. Your graduation from a now foreclosed private school—the result of a series of unsolved murders and disappearances, no doubt your doing. Your brief spurts of college classes that ended in screaming blood baths and your two-year residence in a mental institution that led to you setting the place on fire–literally–and killing the entire staff, half the patients, and escaping with the other half into hiding.

“I see that…also like your sister, you could never find the right fit for a school.” Larissa felt like she was treading on thin ice about to break and send her into freezing water.

“Bravo, Principal Weems, you successfully masked my murderous tendencies and attributed them as resulting from an identity crisis among shallow people who failed to hold even an ounce of self-awareness for themselves or others.” You slowly clapped your hands and grinned at her.

Morticia chuckled and glanced at Larissa’s widened eyes. “Des—”

Larissa saw the challenge in your eyes and understood the fire in them. Fine, if you want to play, let’s play. She took a deep breath and snapped the folder shut. “No, Morticia, she’s right. Excuse my brief lapse in judgment for trying to be delicate with the fact that you made a career out of being a serial killer because you failed to find joy in any aspect of your life. I’m sure you thought they all deserved you cutting their lives short. However, now is where that ends. You had a good run of it, I’m sure, slaughtering all those who dared to challenge your expectations. But here at Nevermore, all outcasts are accepted, included, and protected, including you. So, if you so much as try to give someone a papercut, I’ll have you out of here and behind bars before you can even wipe the blood off your hands.”

You smiled like a Cheshire Cat with a dangerous glint in your eyes. Your voice was deadly calm. “Mmm, and you think you can hold me?”

Gomez and Morticia glance at each other.

Larissa forced herself not to squirm in her seat. She spread her arms across the table and gripped the edges. Larissa slowly exhaled and smiled through clenched teeth. “We will do our very best, Ms. Addams.”

You heard Morticia and Gomez clapping and chanting how you would have such a wonderful time here. The mischief adventures, friendships, and memories you would make here will become legendary.

I couldn’t agree more, you thought.

Larissa inhaled deeply at the darkening of your pupils, the unrelenting smirk on your face, and how you tilted your head back as you stared at her. What was she to you? A challenge, an admiration, or a victim?

She blinked and bent to pull two papers from a drawer. Larissa cleared her throat and said, “Then let’s discuss what your schedule will look like. Nevermore has become a dual campus—with high school and lower-level college classes for transitions to university. Your college classes will take place in Hypatia House, the building adjacent to this one, designated for college students. Your dorm room is in this building, along with all other students. However, to maintain a safe distance between groups of students, college students are located in four new halls that have been added to the main mansion.”

You tracked Larissa’s movements and admired how she spoke each syllable with a soft yet deep tone. Her lips formed each syllable carefully, like she was feeling the weight of the words on her tongue. Her hands fiddled with the papers. Her nails scraped the edges, and you thought it intriguing that she admired the color red enough to coat her nails with it.

You glanced up and caught her following your eye movements. She glanced back down quickly and licked her lips. Interesting, you thought.

“You are assigned to Athena Hall—”

“Ohh, Tish, how fitting for her!” Gomez cheered.

“Yes, all she’ll need are her swords to fit the anger. She certainly has the training for it.” Morticia smirked at you with her jest.

“How kind of you, Mother,” you snarked at her with a bored expression. “Speaking of my possessions, my piano—”

“Will be installed in your dorm room by the end of the day. Lurch is already on it, darling.”

Larissa perked up at the notion of you having a musical hobby. She smiled and said, “We’ll have to have Wednesday and you perform together for Nevermore one day!”

“You would be an idiot if you didn’t, Principal Weems. We’re much better when competing, though.” You heard Wednesday say behind you after opening the door.

You stood to greet her and watched your younger sister walk up to you. You looked down at her and crossed your arms. “Sister. You look good as ever in black.”

“You look good, not in a red jumpsuit.”

You raised a brow. “A different red then.”

Wednesday glanced at Larissa before looking back at you. “Careful, she’ll scream at the sight of it…again.”

Your smirk grew, and you side-eyed Larissa. “I think I might enjoy hearing that.”

Larissa watched the interaction with wide eyes and felt herself tense up. The similar black hair, the same calculated eyes, the black clothes, the familiar defiant fire lying in wait beneath a cold stare. Larissa huffed and rolled her eyes. Well, fuck me, she thought.

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 16: Gratuitous Sax & Senseless Violins (When Do I Get To Sing "My Way")

So, well, what an era this was, right. Comeback of the century! Gratsax just has that certain *something*. It's brilliant! One of the best albums ever made if you ask me. The fully electronic style is so perfect for Sparks and they just do it here like it's nothing and like they've been at it for many years. Of course there's the hiatus that took place in the years before it to keep in mind but even then, this album is a HUGE accomplishment and an incredible standout in a catalog of releases that's already full of standouts of all sorts. And it's definitely a personal standout for me too, thinking about how it's been almost a year since I first heard it really freaks me out! It was such a different time for me I feel like, but many things are also exactly the same as back then. It's weird to feel nostalgic about it now but there's really no better word to describe what this feeling is like exactly.

I think this album is meant for vinyl listening in a way. It just fits it so well!! And it's not just the quality to the sound that it has this way (and I don't mean that it sounds necessarily "better", more like just, different and that somehow complements the music even more), but also the ability to have an actual good view of this wonderful album cover that's among my top favourite Sparks things ever. So cool looking! So funny and memorable! One of the finest instances of the music sounding exactly like what the cover looks like. (and learning that the cover is a homage to a SPECIFIC magazine rather than just tabloids in general, that only made it more amazing because it really does look so alike, stuff like this is really cool to me for whatever reason lol)

Also I like the fact that I bought this silly little "disco" lamp around this time last year, so plugging it in for extra vibes during listening makes it all just kind of perfect. And another thing on the visual aspect of it all: this is such a good era for music videos, they're all SO GOOD! Some of my very big favourites for sure and the My Way video might really be one of the best music videos EVER MADE.

But ok, let's get to the point now. Something that stood out to me right away is that every song here is so unique but they fit together so well anyway (not first instance of such thing happening either). There's really lots of variety! I also remember this album fondly because of how it was the first one I listened to with my parents and when my Sparks obsession truly started to become one of the most noticeable things about me to other people, lol. But finally feeling more free and confident with sharing my favourite things that mean so much to me with others is such a wonderful thing anyway, I'd even argue that it helped me live my life more fully than before! And yeah, it's mostly a remark they (my parents) made, that this album nails the balance between keeping to a certain style and offering something new with each song. It's such a wonderful journey!

Alright, once again getting carried away a bit here even though I had no ideas earlier for what to say today. Highlights time then, which is also a bit of a problem because besides one special favourite this album has no spectacularly outstanding highs or any lows, it's all just equally amazing. But I'll try anyway, as I always do.

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

When Do I Get To Sing "My Way": my parents absolutely love this song and well, I do too. No suprise that it's among their most beloved and well-known songs, it really has it all, and it's one of Ron's very best when it comes to lyrics, without a doubt

Frankly, Scarlett, I Don't Give A Damn: so so atmospheric and special, I really like the vocal filter of sorts that's used here, it's just, so cool sounding all around!!

I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car: this was my LEAST favourite at first but I grew to really like its unhingedness and the part with all "the CAR!!"s on top of each other is just peak of it all and funny as heck

Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil: one of my favourite of Russell's vocal performances! This one and Scarlett are a bit of a duo to me, both simply beautiful songs

Tsui Hark: I LOVE the sound of this one, the piano plus the synth and the spoken word lyrics make this kind of combo that makes it feel like I've already known this one for years and it's just... always existed (which is a term that will apply to a lot of 21st Sparks material anyway, so, that's something to look forward to)

The Ghost Of Liberace: such a big comfort listen to me, I just love this one, makes me feel so at home!!

Gratuitous Sax & Senseless Violins: shoutout to these too because I feel like they might be easy to overlook as these very brief pieces, but they're that extra element that just, really cements this album as a wonderful whole with something to unify all of it into this package of wonder of all sorts

...And then there's the many bonus tracks also, which I'll just mention briefly since I almost forgot about them and because, yeah. I love them all, but the closest to my heart are Love Can Conquer All, She's An Anchorman, She's Beautiful (So What), Mid-Atlantic & This Angry Young Man (Ain't Angry No More) ((and the RON VOCAL VERSIONS OF THEM)) and Katherine Hepburn (love the whole Christi Haydon EP (and Christi is so cool and awesome I need to say that too today) and I should listen to it more, the Boris The Spider cover is fun as heck also)

And now bonus video for no reason from (almost) a year ago, because again, the nostalgiaaaa. (Back when I didn't have a shelf for my record player yet so it took up half of the space on my desk lol)

[maruiin]

Hi sorry if there are a lot of mistakes here my english is very bad but i hope you like this story

brief description:Grace kills Grisha faster then Inej and saving Brekker life

The plan went completely awry, so Inez, Kaz, and I split up in the corridor near the main hall. We needed to leave; we had already attracted enough attention, as almost no one had ever seen our faces. We especially raised suspicions, Inez and I, as there were few girls in the Darkling's guard. Silently walking through several corridors, we heard voices of soldiers and panicked, stopping in our tracks.

"We'll have to split up," Inez suggested, and I gladly agreed. Being caught didn't bring me any joy.

We turn left and then part ways. Inez goes left again down the corridor, while I go straight to the end, also turning to the left. My heart pounds in my chest like crazy, and I'm trembling slightly. This kind of venture is new to me; it's not about robbing a stall or pickpocketing from drunks. The Small Palace... If someone had told me before that I'd be running around the palace dressed as General Kirigan's guard, enacting a shaky plan to steal the Sun Summoner, or rather her theft, I would've laughed in disbelief.

But fate apparently decided to have its fun with me, and rather cruelly at that. We're just steps away from getting caught by the guards, perhaps later having a personal audience with the Darkling himself and becoming enemies of the country. This wasn't how I envisioned ending my seventeen-year-old life.

The corridors are eerily similar, all adorned with paintings, large windows, ornate frames, and... everything is so white, it's making me nauseous! I'm used to darkness, the dim light of a kerosene lamp, worn-out walls, and the lingering scent of alcohol in the air. The barrel was a second home for me, after all.

I glance around at every turn, looking back, and even trying not to breathe. Damn, I'm scared, and I feel like at some point, I might start believing in Saints again. I step softly on the red carpet, but then I stop abruptly. I hear a shout from behind, but it's not the voice of one of ours. I decide to take a look, so I carefully step back, pressing against the wall, returning down the corridor through an arched doorway.

I only manage to catch a glimpse of Kaz standing in amazement a few meters away from a Grisha. The second one, ready to attack, has a hand with flames raised. I panic, and that makes me look around. I lift my gaze to my level, turning my head to the opposite balcony where Inez stands. I see fear in her eyes. Consuming fear, wrapping around her like a cocoon, but she's already reaching for the dagger in her thigh pocket.

Hundreds of thoughts race through my mind in a second, and I snatch a dagger from my belt. I won't let Inez kill them; as long as I'm alive, that will never happen. Just like her, I've never killed people in my life. I can't raise a hand against them, knowing the same could happen to me. Inez hasn't killed because she was devout, and her faith wouldn't allow her to commit such a sin.

"I didn't kill because I was scared. Scared to see the last gaze at the sky, hear the final heavy sigh. Afraid to witness the plea in the dying eyes at the last moment. Until that point, I hadn't drawn my knife with the intent to kill. But now, it's a completely different situation. Maybe I'll regret it later, perhaps it's the adrenaline coursing through me, but I have to spare Inej from her own sin and... protect Kaz Brekker.

"No!" I shout, and I can't understand whom I'm directing this exclamation to, but I immediately release the silver dagger at Grisha, aiming for his head for some reason.

So he won't suffer.

I freeze as the blade smoothly enters Grisha's neck halfway, immediately staining the steel with thick red liquid. There will be a lot of blood. I don't move, just watch as the body falls, then shift my gaze to Brekker.

I've never seen him like this. I'm certain that in my eyes, he sees not just incomprehension and fear, but also confusion, definitely not regret. Kaz has such a peculiar look... He knew I'd never take a life. Never, under any circumstances. Kaz knew that killing is as much of a problem for me as it is for Inej. But while she can kill when faced with mortal danger, I'll either defend myself or stand frozen until a bullet or metal pierces my heart.

Kaz looks puzzled. Troubled. And agitated. He stares at me, unblinking, his mouth slightly agape in astonishment, breathing heavily. I see sweat forming on his forehead, droplets rolling down his face, probably tickling his skin, but he continues to look at me. Unwaveringly. I don't look away.

I don't know how much time passes. I have no idea when the guards will catch up with us. I just keep looking at Kaz Brekker, biting my lip out of helplessness. I start to shake. The silence is broken by Inej, leaping down from the balcony, slowly approaching Grisha's corpse. She's not at ease either. Because of the force I used to throw the dagger into the lifeless body, I lean slightly forward. So, when I stand upright again, I instinctively recoil.

A lump forms in my throat. Adrenaline begins to ebb, panic surges with renewed force.

I've taken a life.

Kaz seems to realize I'm losing it, so he starts walking towards the balcony, knowing he won't be able to reach me anyway.

"Grace..."

My name sounds distant, as if I'm enclosed in a dome, in a vacuum somewhere. I step back from the railing, and Kaz takes another step forward, as if trying to stop me. And I retreat, continuing to look alternately at Grisha's body and my friend whose life I've almost taken. Taking away someone else's.

I turn around and continue towards the emergency exit, trying to keep a mental map of the Little Palace. I hear only my own name, shouted from Kaz Brekker's lips, chasing me.

I walk briskly, to avoid being caught by Kaz and Inej, the soldiers. Descending the stairs, I hide a few times behind protrusions to evade unwanted gazes. Ahead lies the final long corridor, and at the end, a small door where Jesper is supposed to be waiting for us.

"Grace!" I hear Inej's voice very close, and I turn towards her. They've been following me all this time, trying to escape just like me. Inej, usually composed, is now breathing deeply, her eyes wide open as she catches up to me, surpassing Kaz. "Grace..."

Inej stands beside me, ready to help at any moment, while I just lower my gaze to the floor, avoiding looking at her. Kaz approaches, limping more heavily on his right leg than usual. I quickly scan him, anxiously assessing his leg and overall condition. He needs help.

"Inej, go, tell Jesper to get ready for departure, I hope he's prepared," Kaz commands, but he continues to look at me. I can feel his gaze on my forehead. Inej nods obediently and gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. For a fraction of a second, it feels a bit easier. But then, after Inej leaves, Kaz takes two steps closer to me, leaning slightly forward, trying to catch my gaze.

"Grace, listen to me..."

"I killed him," I whisper to myself, but I was certain Kaz heard. Unexpectedly, he came even closer, stepping within arm's reach.

"Grace, look at me," Brekker asks, not commands, and I only press my lips together, still not lifting my gaze. "Grace!" I can't resist any longer and raise my eyes, meeting his piercing gaze. It turns out we're closer than an arm's length. "Grace, look," Kaz slightly spreads his arms, as if urging me to take a good look at him. "I'm alive. And it's all thanks to you. You saved me, Grace." He speaks in a half-whisper to avoid being overheard.

"Or so that I would hear..."

"Now pull yourself together!"

Now he's not asking anymore — Kaz commands, circling around me and brushing my shoulder. I can only sigh deeply, clenching my hands into fists.

I might burst into tears

Part 2?

[starculler]

Lost & Found

spacial displacement, my old and severely underutilized friend -- notes from an idea featuring Padawan!Anakin and Cadet!Rex:

Anakin -- all of twelve years old, on an errand for one of the Temple's Masters, and definitely not where he's supposed to be -- finds a kid. Specifically, he finds a kid who's managed to get himself lost in Coruscant's lower levels for more than a week with no memory of how or why he's ended up there. Adding fuel to an already horrifying fire, the name the kid offers Anakin when he asks is a designation: CT-7567.

Anakin, he promptly decides, is going to murder someone.

First, though, he breathes. In through his nose, out through his mouth like Obi-Wan taught him in an effort to help him manage the sparking anger that sometimes kindles too hot and too fierce in his chest. The kid doesn't need that from him, and Anakin knows somewhere deep down that he needs to be clearheaded about this.

If there's one thing he knows for certain, though, he's sure as hell not going through Coruscant's sercurity forces for this. They already missed the kid for this long, and Anakin's been around enough (and heard enough) to know how vulnerable little kids (no matter that he looks close enough to Anakin's age) like the one he's found can fall through the cracks.

No. This, he knows, he'll have to handle himself.

.

Rex has no idea what he did to get himself into this situation, but knows for sure he's going to be decommissioned for it as soon as he finds a way back to Kamino. The Jedi Commander who finds him is a whirlwind of action from the moment he just about bulldozes into Rex to everything that happens after.

He's everything and absolutely nothing like what he expected a Jedi, cadet or otherwise, to be based on what his trainers, the Kaminoans, and his flash training have told him.

The Jedi -- "I told you my name's Anakin," he says, voice strangled with something distinctly distressed. "Please stop calling me 'sir'" -- shoots him rapid-fire questions, and Rex answers them with the military efficiency trained into him. The back and forth doesn't last long, not after one of the lamp lights buzzing over Anakin's head pops and shatters, startling them both.

"Sir," Rex starts hesitantly, staring wide-eyed at the broken light. The Jedi Commander breathes heavily through his nose and Rex course-corrects immediately, tense as a wire (thinks of annoyed trainers and brothers who don't catch on quick enough and disappear overnight never to be seen again). Anakin whines, the sound mostly stuck in his throat. Rex knows bitten back distress as well as he knows the shape of his face, and a hand darts out to grab the cadet's hand before he even really knows what he's doing. He's a little surprised when the little Jedi squeezes his fingers instead of letting go.

Rex, after they've settled, ultimately decides this is his Jedi when the boy pulls him into a nearby building, still holding each other's hands, and buys him a roll of the sweetest bread he's ever tasted in his life. Anakin grins, all sharp and Jedi-knowing, and promises he'll help Rex no matter what (including finding him a name instead of a number, because he's a person.)

(Rex chokes a little, his eyes blurry and burning, when he shares his name with his natborn Jedi -- the first person to hear it outside of the circle of brothers he's lived with his whole life. Anakin's eyes go wide and bright, his grin so wide Rex thinks it might split his face.)

.

Cue:

A little clone cadet following his chosen Jedi like two little ducklings leading each other

So many instances of "here, try this!" as Anakin shoves food at Rex

A very confused Jedi Knight followed by a confused and horrified Jedi Knight and Council

The revelation of a Sith plot years in the making and the discovery of a clone army supposedly commissioned by a recently deceased Jedi Master on behalf of the Republic

Journeys of self discovery and personal betterment

Also, Jango's there.

[martinys-world]

The girl 9

Sorry for the late update. I have not proofread it. If you want to be tag please comment so that I can start taking people in it.

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

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When someone is in trouble a beam of some sort goes off. Like a beam for the key earlier. Sometimes it a little blue orb. Sometimes it’s a bright line on the ground. The leads the way. It’s completely random. Like it can be line then orb then line, it could be beam then line then orb. Once it was line 6 times then went to beam and orb again. They were all different scenarios. But one thing they have in common is that something need my help.

When any of my charms break it “shows” me a path to the one in need. Only i can see. K said he can see it sometimes but i also hang out with him a lot. Some my magic might run on him. When i told him about it. His reaction was “ like that episode of fairly odd parentswith the substitute Mrs. Sunshine.” When he say my confused face he said never mind. I was like okay.

After that ramble. I should get back on topic. The charm broke and now it is showing me an orb and it toke me to the roof top and leading me to the park i think. Maybe Central Park I don’t know, let alone care. Right now I was trying to focus on not falling or tripping. The orb leaded me to an opening and stop moving like a movie put on pause.

“ what am i here for?”

I heard a sound whine sound. Who ever it was EXTREMELY upset. It was coming from inside the park. Looking at the orb confuse. It went up and down as like it trying to say yes, or that what you are here for. Looking away from the glowing light.

“ i wish you can talk so it not just a guessing game.”

What I didn’t know was the orbs was shaking as if it was laughing. It kept laughing until it faded away into nothing. One thing I learned was expect the in expected, or it pointless to play what is it or what has happen. I try not to guess, but sometimes it’s hard not to guess. Sometimes i think it’s an abuse story or a child gets extreme lost. A drunk man getting robbed. I would never guess this. Not for a thousand years.

The scene smell like blood and tears. Seeing the yellow raincoat. I knew it was buster but his coat was duller and there was another color on it. The color red. That was not a good sign. The red was not just on him it was sprawled on the side walk. Somehow it gotten on the black lamp post. He was hugging something against his chest. Clinging to it for dear life. It wasn’t an object it was a being. I saw the brown and white colors. Oh no.

Buster was holding Altan for dear life. Altan was bleeding. “What happen?”

“Those pricks.”.

The pricks he talking bout a bunch of people that don’t like what they call the low life’s. The ones that don’t have homes or jobs. The ones where they pretend that nothing will be wrong. The ones that thinking engorging the problems will make it go away. Stuff doesn’t go away. People don’t go away. The worst part is that most of them are teenagers that are influenced by there parents. These teenagers are troublemakers. The adults are to busy working that they cant do the shenanigans themselves. So they let there kids do the trouble for them. There little stunts have been nothing but words, never any indication of violence. I would never expected this from anyone let alone someone just learning how to drive a car.

What hurt the most was I couldn’t do anything. I was no vet and there was no way he was going to live long enough to get to one. My extra equipment was left at Noah because i was in a rush here. Even if i run at full speed there and back. She lost to much blood to survive. No one likes to say the truth, but it was loud and clear.

Feeling hopeless and no solution in site. I kneel next to buster. I petted the injured one. Buster didn’t jump. He just let me be. The sound of sobs and hingeing in my ear was deafening. Trying so hard not to feel useless, i rub Altan head and told her she a good girl.

“Let my power shine make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was ours. Heal what has been hurt, change the fates design. Save what has been lost bring back what was ours. What was ours.

While saying/singing those words. My hand began to glow. Like it did with spelling but it wasn’t green like last time it was yellow. Yellow and bright. My body and mine were apart. I didn’t realize I was doing anything. The last thing I remember doing myself was rubbing Altan head. Tell how good she is. Then she began to kiss me. I was confused. What happen? Did i do that and it’s thing that k says i do. I zoned out the situation because it was too much for me.

Like always i had no time to think. I felt relief when i knew she was okay. I didn’t care that i didn’t know, what happens or how she was suddenly able to walk around. I was definitely crying my heart out. That feeling whatever it was, cut short. Buster was feeling more than happiness.

"What are you? How did you do that? "

I forgot buster was there. Why dose he look scared?

“What are you? "

He was backing up get away from me. The scene felt like a human and a predator. He was the human and i am the predator. But that was not the scene. if anything i am kitten getting yelled by his owner. Him being scared was scaring me.

"Buster. I am sli-" i began to say.

"What was that light. What else can you do. Can you control minds like you do bodies. Did you mess with my dog."

He was doing a defense mode. He was turning into a predator. He was ready to attack me. Altan was whining. She didn’t want us to fight. Trying to show use she okay. Like it would stop the fighting.

“Buster let’s clam down an-“

" don’t tell me to clam down. You did something that….. did something. go away. I never want to see you again."

The one word i would never use with Buster scared or afraid. In that moment i was terrified. This was not the buster i knew. This isn’t the Buster that always had a smile. The one i shared my money and food with because he was nice to everyone else’s besides me. This was not the Buster i platonically love. This has to be a dream right. When i close my eyes. I was going to wake up on the Diaz’s couch or in the back of Reek’s car. Just like i did this morning.

Buster held something in his hand. I could not tell you what it was, only that it was aimed at my head. I turn and was running my feet to the ground trying to get a move on. My hands landed on… water? Realizing my surrounding. Water was everywhere. My body was soaked, when did it start raining. When i gotten up i heard a clunk form next to me. I didn’t want to look behind me. Still believeing this was some type of dream but body didn’t have the same belief, began to run. To where I don’t know. I was too busy feeling scared and what ever else i felt.

At some point i began jogging and finally began to feel the cold. I couldn’t read the street signs because of how dark, plus with the rain everything became blurry. My backpack was at Noah’s place. That also met my phone was there. No contact with K. I felt lost and vulnerable for the first time in years. The unknow was scaring me. What could i do?

While my tears were blending in with the rain. I didn’t hear the noise behind me. I saw the light reflecting off the water before i noticed the noise. The light disappear. Then a car was next to me. I saw the sliver coat before the door open. I realized that no one was inside.

“ i would get in before you turn into water.”

Mirage. How did he even find me. I walk to the door and hop in. I was ready for tonight to be over.

When the door was close, the car began to move. We were probably going to Noah’s place again. I went to fetal position, it just felt right to hug my knees to my chest. I felt so much that i couldn’t comprehend. Did i lose buster. How am i a monster. Did i save Altan? There was so much that happen and I couldn’t make a sense of it.

"Want to talk about it?"

Shaking my head no, my eyes went to look out the window. It may have been blurred from the rain but it was better than my head. Nothing was said for the rest of that night. We both were driving down the cold empty streets. I couldn’t began to explain how i was feeling, but the streets represent part of my emotions.

Meanwhile

the only sound that was heard in the quiet night was a Nokia phone. It buzz against the couch, until someone pick up the said phone. when the button clicked was when they began to hear other voices.

“Sliver please explain, why you are jump on roof at this late at night."

" I would like to figure that out."

k eye turn into shock when, it was not the person he thought he would hear.

" Who are you?"

" My name in Noah?"

" Let me guess she left her whole bag at your place. then ran off randomly?"

" yep."

" Did her bracelet snap or was it something else?"

"bracelet, how did you know?"

" Not the first time, someone need her."

while moving the speaker part of the phone away from his mouth. k began to walk up some stairs.

"hey t and v. I know that you are getting off but let the next shift know that 1. I want camera on sliver, until I say other wise. 2. seen the live feed to the office?"

While multiple confirmations where said. K open the glass door to the room above all the computers. the sound of button being press. Papers being shuffle. the click of computer mouse. were muffle as soon as the door closed.

" Can you please explain what going on with silver?"

k put the phone on speaker while he sat down.

" I can't say anything, I am sorry."

"why not?"

" rule is sliver has to tell you."

"why not you, mr?"

" because you are part of sliver world. I would gladly tell you if i meant you but when star goes on these adventures, I can't jump in."

" why is that?"

" because she will go completely AWOL. she will not contact me at all. so I will have to do this massive hunt for her. It just simpler this way."

" what?"

" something happen her and she need to walk away for a bit."

" that how she in New York?"

" yea. the only way I was going to let her go bye herself, is that she keeps contact every 3- days unless other wise."

" you sound like a parent."

K was chuckle. " I guess somedays."

" how and when will she tell me."

" when she trust you."

there was nothing else said. K knew what he wanted to say, because K was there at one point in his life.

" I guessing she left her bag there?"

" yes. it's actually next to me."

" it won't be long now."

" what do you mean?"

" how st- I mean sliver works is that. she always have her bags on her. they are a life line in fact. leaving them there means she trust you enough to leave them."

K look at the screen. to see that sliver ran into the park. going back and relaxing again he focus his Conversation with Noah.

" what do you mean life line.

" well if she docent have her phone or not answer me. I would kill her. no, if, and, or, buts."

" you do sound scary."

K snorted at the comment. " sure lets okay with that." looking at the computer K notice a light in the little group. it was a sign that he was going to have a lot of cleanup to do. it was also as sign to cut his conversation.

" Look Noah, I have to go. Someone need my help here."

" this might sound crazy but this helps a lot."

" I know it will always feel like she docent trust you or that there something she doing but won't say, but look at the little things. she leave her bag with you. She is probably sleeping there. it won't be lone until she says something."

"okay"

That simple okay was sort of was a nod, that they understood each other. that Noah couldn't ask anymore question even thought he wanted to. K couldn't tell him, even if he wanted to. The phone ended on an understanding that they both have to do some waiting.

when k knew the call was ended. he pull open the draws next to him. he need to do something real quick before he forgot. he pulled out a stack of files. he saw that reek was the first file. he put it to the side. saw what said kris Diaz and Brenna Diaz. h tossed those with reek. he found what he was looking for. he grab a sticky note and put under Noah face's.

a good one. sliver trust? look into?

Closing the file. he put the family together pushing the files to the side. There was one underneath. It was someone wearing a yellow rain coat. he looked back at camera and notice the same raincoat.

" looks like I will add notes to you also."

holding buster file he got up and went to the door.

" sliver what did you do now?"

@lainekyuu @apexprime

[nossbean]

Ooh, I'd like to know more about Lion Husband!

Yaaay! this fic is one i am super excited for whenever i have time enough to get deep enough into it! It's also one I've posted several snippets of over the last year and a bit. So for years I've wanted to do a fairy tale something, anything, and one day when driving, Crane WIfe 3 by The Decemberists came on shuffle. I'd heard it roughly 634 times before but this time something about it struck me about help and harm and need and desperation.

In this, Jaime inherits from his mother the ability to turn into a lion, whose various body parts can be repurposed: his claws turn to swords for Tywin's conquest, his roar turns to command for Cersei's ambitions, fur from his mane turns to protection for Tyrion. Each of these things hurts him, takes it out of him. And indeed, when he loses a hand in battle, the requests for yet more claws, for yet one more roar, bring him to the brink of death. He stands at the edge of a cliff one day, morose, when the sea rises to take him.

He is found, a lion with a lost paw, on the shores of Tarth. Brienne is Evenstar before she's ready -- her mother, the former Evenstar, was lost in a storm at sea. Tarth is in a bad way financially, raids along its coast, and isolation and the refusal of help from the mainland make for leaner and leaner years.

Jaime can make means, if only the demand is made. Brienne will never, ever, ask of anyone that which they cannot give without harm to themselves.

Here's the rough first part of chapter one, when Brienne is woken to see what's been found on the shore (cw: description of an injured animal)

“My lady.” 

Brienne opened her eyes to near pitch. The sharp crack of winter rain sounded on the windows, followed by wind shaking the shutters as vigorous as a giant of old had taken hold.

They’d need replacing by next winter. Her stomach clenched. Another expense. 

Perhaps they might simply fill in the windows. They could reuse stone from the crumbling watch tower, employ labourers from the village — a better use of funds —

“My lady,” a more insistent whisper through the door, accompanied by a quiet knock. Not the storm that woke her then.

Brienne sat up, pushed away her covers. Clenched her teeth against the immediate chill. “Yes?” she called, glancing to the fire. There wasn’t a glowing cinder to be seen, she’d been hoping she’d get at least another night from the last log. 

“You’re needed at the bay, my lady.” Urgent. Pia was rarely ruffled. She referenced the bay near the Hall, not their main port, so the problem must not be a threat to the Isle for once. Small mercy.

Brienne glanced again at the windows. Perhaps the barest lightening, around the edges. The bay was treacherous enough in a storm in daylight. “A light, please,” Brienne called, then squinted against the soft spill as Pia opened the door. “Then tell them I’m coming. Thank you, Pia.”

The lamp light was reluctant on Goodwin, highlighting only the flat of his cap and the hunch of his shoulders, stooped under an outcropping at the bottom of the path, smoking. He looked up as Brienne stepped from the muddy slip of the path to the packed wet of the sand, scowling disapprovingly from under his patch. “Thought you’d want your say,” he said by way of greeting. “Figured you’d not let me live it down, if I just did what was needed.”

Brienne smiled a little against the icy wet wind on her face. Goodwin was gruff, and moody, and his face was craggier than the stones he leaned on, and Brienne met his grey eye and he smoothed the edge on her worry, conjured the gentlest brush of warmth back into her belly. “I see. Thank you.”

Flicking his cigarette to be taken by the wind, he grunted and looked away from her thanks before pushing away from the stone face, a protected corner where only the bravest of rain had dared find him. Goodwin tugged impatiently at the lantern pole stuck into the sand, stomping forward with nary a glance when the lantern swung wildly with new freedom. He said, “It’s over here.”

Brienne fell into step beside him, never quite shedding the feeling of being seven and looking up at him with nervous wonder as he handed her a training sword. Goodwin was half a foot shorter than her now, and getting shorter every year. 

“What is it?” she asked.

Goodwin gestured, and Brienne followed his motion. In the gloom, a huddled mass, the errant peak of shuttered flame when one person or other moved. Strange, a low rumble from the same direction, though this storm had yet to offer thunder. Brienne squinted as the winds turned, buffeting her back, but all she could see was the shadowy shape of people in heavy coats, shifting uncomfortably and staring at something on the ground between them.

“Move it!” Goodwin barked and a path cleared. Their nervous energy seeming to catch at her just as the wind whipped at her coat, tried its best to steal away her scarf. Brienne forced herself tall, her shoulders back, her strides even, as she made her way between them, the last person moving aside —

“Is that — a lion?”

He was enormous. 

He was heartbreaking. 

He was lying on his side, fur so sodden Brienne felt the cold damp as though it burrowed into her own bones. She gestured to one of the women and she handed over a lantern Brienne swung forward to get a better look. Those ribs. Prominent, shadows draped between each bone, slipping to pool into the hollow of his belly. His hind legs fell loose behind him, and taken with the rattle of each breath, sadness tunneled in Brienne’s aching chest.

His long tail flicked and she gasped — hadn’t realised he was awake — looked back to his head and swallowed. Half his face was pressed into the sand, clear paths where the tide had washed over him, then made quick work to escape back to the sea. His one visible eye watched her. Furious, and hurt.

She hadn’t realized she’d taken a step towards him until his sharp teeth bared, the low rumble she’d mistaken earlier sent from his chest to roll over the sand and vibrate from the soles of her feet to deposit ice in her belly.

“You’re safe,” she told him quietly from around new fear, and took another step. Regretted it as he drew a heavy breath which shuddered and filled his belly, grotesque, before he raised his head. It took so much obvious effort and determination that Brienne winced, before he looked at her directly, bared his teeth fully, sharp and long and dangerous still, and snarled, freezing her in place. 

“Best to put it out of its misery,” Goodwin muttered at her shoulder. Brienne whipped her head to scowl at him, and the lion acted almost as though he understood, his snarl louder, sharper. “It’s lost a paw, Brienne,” Goodwin said, quieter now. Brienne looked back, startled. The lion shifted, again as though he understood, but no, it must just be instinct to hide an injury. Too late though, Brienne saw how he leaned heavily on his right elbow, where his leg ended only in a bloody stump. She saw it now, too, in the lantern light and the slow greying of dawn. The sand under him was deeper, darker. A flicker of flame provoked burgundy. 

“Bleeding out,” Goodwin added meaningfully. “What is a lion without a paw?”

“Still alive,” Brienne said, turning to face him fully. Goodwin sighed. “Are you helping me bring him?”

“Aye,” he said, violently stabbing his lantern into the wet sand. “You know what to do.”

Brienne’s hands tightened to fists and she nodded. Turned back to find the lion’s eyes trained on her. A clever cat, she thought, taking a step forward. Seemed almost to despise her. She smiled sadly. “You wouldn’t be the first,” she told him. The lion’s ears flicked, eyes narrowed. She wondered what colour his mane might be, dry, and in the light. It hung now, in sodden clumps around his face, looking heavy and uncomfortable. “To think me unnatural,” she whispered to the question she imagined he might ask. She’d had too little sleep, assigning human responses. But if someone had asked her now, she’d have said confidently that the lion had narrowed his eyes at this. 

She took another step.

The lion’s eyes dropped to her feet, and then his teeth appeared again as he looked up. 

“I haven’t got much to offer you,” she went on. The lion’s ears flicked again. “Only kindness.”

Goodwin was quick and exacting and if Brienne imagined some hint of terror in the lion’s eyes just before his head dropped, it was only that, her imagination.

Endless WIP meme

[constellaetions]

If Carissa liked how he acted around her, even now that they were still wearing their clothes, then Seung Hoon didn't think they'd have a problem getting along outside the bedroom, really. He'd heard some people, especially some women, that he'd tried dating in the past didn't quite like this possessive and territorial ways of his, and well, of course it was only fair, but, ever since his relationship with Genevieve back in New York and how she stripped him of himself, to the point of driving him insane as straight into a street lamp post one drunken night, Samuel had been working on not letting it happen again, so, of course he was appreciative for Carissa's response to his touches, to his kisses and everything he'd been doing that night. "Maybe?" He asked, arching one brow. "Because I'd love to hear a straight answer."

As the conversation went on, and they seemed less like they were about to jump each other's pants in public and more like they were in a decent date, Hoon realized more interesting things about her that their brief mornings getting on to their days hadn't allowed them (or him) to have realized. "What kind of serious topics?" He asked, but Hoon assumed she meant getting married, starting a family, all that. Carissa had mentioned wanting to settle down... she had also mentioned people being with her just for fun, so, in his forty-year-old mind, by serious things she meant the natural obvious steps people usually took in their ages. "I don't know. But then again... Ted Bundy was rather charming, wasn't he?" He teased, once again closing the distance between them, and placing a kiss on her cheek. "I'm just messing with you. But I really thing you deserve better than the idiots that have been with you in the past." I mean, would it cast her away if he got overconfident?

"I do want to give this a try, Carissa." Sam said after another sip from his drink. "I like you. I like being with you, sex is great, so... might as well try it, right?" Even if it would ruin him later on, Hoon was more than happy to be sitting there, sharing drinks with her. "Do you want to move this conversations to one of the tables so we can get something for dinner?" / @lcvelctters

if carissa was being honest, she liked that sam kind of had this sort of possession over her. she thought it was pretty sexy, even if the only relationship the two of them had was behind closed doors. now that things were changing between them though and they were shifting into something more than just sex, she hoped it wasn't just a one time a thing. if this was going to be a regular thing, she wanted him to touch and to kiss her the way he had tonight. "maybe i like being yours too."

some of her previous dates made her feel as though she were asking too much and she could usually tell what someone was thinking based on their facial expressions when it came to first dates. "you know, just being with me to have fun. they're not really dating me for any other reason and they're just avoiding any serious topic that i attempt to bring up." she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. as the other spoke, she smiled at the man. "i enjoy spending time with you too." she was sure that part was obvious though. "the idiot part, i think. though, is anyone going to call themselves a psycho?"

[thebibliosphere]

I had a question.

So, just an hour or two ago, I was going through some sort of “manic high”, sorta like how somebody with bipolar disorder would have (I don’t have BPD). It felt like a bullet train at max speed and completely derailing, and it was incredibly draining. It also got me wondering.

Do people with severe enough ADHD deal with ADHD episodes like this? My search attempts are often futile because all of it is just talking about how to differentiate between BPD and ADHD and BPD manic episodes, but nobody ever mentions ADHD episodes; the only time I’ve seen it mentioned ever was when somebody made a clip of crankgameplays to show what an ADHD episode looked like.

Do they even exist? I’ve got no idea, so I was just wondering if you knew.

Hey! Sorry, I saw your other ask a while ago, but I wanted to talk to my ADHD specialist before I answered because I’d never heard of the term “episode” being used to describe ADHD. I’m also going to splice both questions together here and answer them in segments in the hope it helps :)

So like I said, I’d never heard of the term “episode” with ADHD, and neither has my specialist. Part of ADHD is having a natural ebb and flow between inattention and hyperactivity, sometimes skewed toward one or the other, depending on your ADHD type. (What are the different types of ADHD?)

Your type of ADHD may also fluctuate because of other factors, such as stress, changes in medication, hormonal fluctuations, lack of sleep, overstimulation, or even under-stimulation, to name a few. Another overlooked part of ADHD is emotional dysregulation, which may cause rapid cycling emotions that may look like an “episode” to someone unfamiliar with what that actually qualifies. The way my therapist explained it and using your example of bipolar disorder, “episode” is used in diagnostic criteria to categorize manic or depressive episodes that last X amount of time, are usually severe, potentially requiring hospitalization, and are accompanied by other symptoms not found in ADHD.

Our “bursts” of energy or lack thereof typically don’t last long enough to be considered episodes. This isn’t to say they are not severe or debilitating, especially if you suffer from things like anxiety or depression that ADHD can feed into. Merely that “episode” is not used as part of the language used to discuss ADHD, which is likely why you’re not finding anything.

So, do ADHDers experience intense bursts of energy that are draining afterward? Yeah, we can do, especially if we lean more toward hyperactive than inattentive. (And again, it's normal to fluctuate and also for things to be affected or worsened by secondary factors.)

And I'm going to put the rest under the cut because this is hella long.

I’ve seen some people think that all hyperactivity has to come with fixation, but that’s not how ADHD works. It’s true if something gets us excited or gives us a dopamine boost, we might be more prone to becoming hyperfixated and burn all our energy up on that. But you don’t need something to fixate on to experience hyperactivity. Some of us are just wired to the moon sometimes, and yes, it can be very draining when it ends. Some people find medication helpful in regulating their hyperactivity/preventing it from coming in such big swings and dips.

Speaking personally, when I'm hyper and nothing is grabbing my attention, the world and people around me can feel painfully slow. It's like I'm going a mile a minute doing everything but achieving nothing. The crash that comes after can also be particularly bad, as I also have dysthymia, which can tip over into a major depressive episode depending on other factors in my life at that time. For years I was misdiagnosed as having "probably Bipolar Type II" by a doctor who didn't believe teenage girls could "get" ADHD* and convinced my parents I needed psychoactive drugs. The drugs I was on didn't help, in fact, they made me worse so I was taken off them.

It wasn't until I found an ADHD specialist as an adult a few years ago that I made any real progress. And I'll be honest, I was shocked when she diagnosed me with ADHD, I really didn't think I had it. Right up until we started doing the work and slowly but surely my mental health began to improve and my understanding of myself with it.

Sometimes there are days when I will be wired to the moon and it will derail my entire day because I can't focus on a single thing/I'll focus too much on a single thing. Other times, like when I am closer to my menstrual cycle, I'll crash into inattentiveness and depression because of how my hormones affect my various different conditions, including my ADHD. Medication would likely help with this, but due to medical reasons, that's currently not an option for me so I do the best I can.

That said, if you’re experiencing something more than hyperactivity but it's not mania, you may be experiencing a form of hypomania and you should talk to a doctor about your concerns.

Hypomania typically occurs in Bipolar Type II disorder, which is less severe than the manic episodes in Bipolar I. I’ve experienced both manic and hypomanic episodes in my life due to medication interactions, and they felt very different from ADHD hyperactivity. It's not just derailing mile-a-minute thoughts, it's something usually completely mood-altering and out of control feeling followed by devastating crashes.

If you're on any medications and are worried you are experiencing something like this, you need to talk to your doctor. You might just need a dosage tweak, or you might be better off on a different medication altogether. Also, make a thorough check of any and all medications you are taking to check for any interactions.

I'm on a cocktail of meds for my MCAS, which if I were to combine them with the SSRI one of my doctors wants me to try, would result in serotonin syndrome. The doctor didn't notice this, but the pharmacist sure as shit did!

Some people (ask me how I know) even develop mild hypomania from overusing the sunlamps used to treat SAD (link), which is why brands like Verilux now include warnings in their leaflets about not using the lamps for more than X amount of time a day. Thankfully it goes away once you stop overusing the lamps.

Which actually brings me to something you asked last time about being unable to sleep at night. Insomnia and delayed sleep phase cycles are not uncommon in ADHD. This is likely because our circadian rhythm is thought to be out of whack (link).

You also mentioned having racing thoughts at night too, which is not uncommon either with hyperactivity. I find if I get overstimulated before trying to sleep, I’ll end up lying there awake with what I like to call “radio ADHD” playing in my head. It can range from snippets of songs stuck on repeat, conversations, things I’ve watched on TV, arguments, or if something is happening the next day, fixating on not being late for it. Hence, I end up getting no sleep because you can’t accidentally sleep in if you don’t sleep. *jazz hands of despair.*

Sometimes I find Radio ADHD soothing if it’s fixating on something chill, but it can get annoying fast and even distressing if I’m tired and can’t “change the station.” (I’d say “shut it off,” but as of yet, I’ve never been able to do that. Medication helps some people with this, as can looking into “sleep hygiene” if you haven’t already.) Conversely, if I’m bored or something is too stressful, I will 100% fall asleep because my brain would literally rather just turn off than do something I don’t want to do or is a low dopamine reward task.

Brains are fun.

Anyway, I uh, I am not sure if any of this is useful to you, but I hope it helps. Mostly I'm just repeating back what my specialist said when I asked her about it lol. Good luck, and I hope you figure things out.

----

*NB: It's important to note that ADHD and Bipolar Disorder can be comorbid. It's not a one or the other situation. I’m just throwing it out there in case hearing that helps someone else pursue the proper diagnosis!

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

?

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

[nctsworld]

reigniting

✩ mark x reader | dance au | enemies to lovers | car s*x | smut | fluff | 1.6k

SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory RATING ⇾ mature FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead​ idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!

“I missed this.”

Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.

Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.

The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.

Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.

From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.

But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.

The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.

And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.

The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.

Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.

“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”

“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—

“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”

That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.  

When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.

Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.

Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.

Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.

However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.

During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.

Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.

And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.

But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.

Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”

“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”

He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."

The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.

"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."

You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.

"You'll never know."

There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.

A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.

His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.

"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"

You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.

"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.

Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.

And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.  

You hold your breath and question back—

"Am I wrong?”

The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.

The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.

"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.

Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"

"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.

The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.

“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.

In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”

All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.

You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.

On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.

“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.

You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.

You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.

“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”

You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.

“No deal, captain.”

nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!

[bernadettefoxs]

friends don’t kiss me like you do

summary: lou and debbie have to fight their feelings for each other while working/living together + one very jealous lou miller.

length: long (and gay) enough

warnings: extreme fluff!! and a little angst

—

“Just leave it there, TamTam, Jesus.” Debbie spoke with an angry tone while Tammy was sitting at the other end of Lou’s couch, trying to fix Debbie’s heel that broke when she and Tammy ran home together after getting out of the cab on a rainy New York city night.

Debbie almost twisted her ankle stepping on a cobblestone and Tammy laughed, tugging her arm and helping Debbie steady herself, but one of her heels was now wrecked and the brunette was cursing under her breath, meeting an impatient Lou waiting for them by the door, whispering “what the fuck” when both women showed up looking like train wrecks, both a little drunk too. It was supposed to be a business dinner with one of Debbie’s old friends who worked at the bank, and it ended up with margaritas and endless vodka shots.

Lou was a bit hurt, not ever admitting that to anyone, that Debbie didn’t ask her to come with her, calling Tammy instead. Sure, Tammy was her best friend too, but she wasn’t Lou, and Lou wondered why not just ask her when Tammy had to leave four snotty kids at home and Lou was always just… there. She welcomed their drunk mess with tea and dry towels, and now she was watching the silly shatter from the kitchen as Debbie snatched the heel from Tammy’s hand with a giggle.

“Leave it to me, honey, I can do it.” Lou knew it was all part of the banter, but hearing someone else call Debbie those stupid pet names was one of the worst things she’d ever witnessed. It only made her wanna throw up, thinking she’d been somehow replaced by Tammy as the best friend, and maybe as something else too. And it hurt her even more that Tammy was her friend, and that now she was starting to act and think like an immature teenager. Put it together, Miller.

.

Lou was in love. She couldn’t deny it. As much as she really, really, truly wanted to. She and Debbie had decided on staying “just friends” until they could really work things out between them and also get the heist successfully done. But every time Lou let time pass carelessly she’d find herself attached to the brunette, physically, almost too many times.

It would either happen after Debbie had a rough day assembling new members for the team or after Lou didn’t have a good day at the club. They would always find comfort in each other after midnight when Lou was about to go to bed but Debbie always stopped her before the australian could even step into her bedroom.

It was 1am, Debbie was sure because she’d had dinner with Lou three hours ago when she came back from the club, and afterwards she texted Tammy good night, assuring her that she was okay and thanking her for the help with the banker guy the other day, “also, fuck you, I ruined one good pair of heels because you thought you were Usain Bolt in the rain.”

She heard Lou turn off the kitchen lights and knew the australian was headed to bed, and she suddenly lost interest in the cooking book she was reading. It was Lou’s and she wasn’t even so sure Lou herself actually ever read that thing ever, but it was something to kill her time.

“Lou? Can I sleep with you?” the whisper filled the silent living room. All the lights were out except for the yellow ray from the creepy skull lamp Lou had gotten as a gift from her brother Rusty, she put it on her coffee table at first not really knowing what to do with it and she would always find Debbie sitting by the corner of her couch, using the light to read in the dark. She liked to sit there because she could always see when Lou walked around the place.

Debbie’s eyes followed her like a flashlight and even after almost fifteen years of knowing that woman the effect the australian had on her was still the same. Lou didn’t change at all. Being in prison for five years, she missed seeing that on the daily, and to her surprise, the first night she spent with Lou felt like home again. She never got used to being without Lou. And Lou didn’t either.

It would all fade to black again when Debbie decided to distance herself from those feelings, from Lou. She couldn’t escape the fear of fucking things up with the most important person in her life, so she would pretend to look away when Lou looked at her with that look, wouldn’t go out with her even just to run some stupid errands when Lou asked her to, every moment did something to her and she couldn’t bear it anymore. She couldn’t bare being Lou’s sidekick, even if she knew she wasn’t just that to her.

“Can I?” she whispered again.

“You- uh-“ Lou looked her up and down, her body covered by the robe she hadn’t known the brunette borrowed from her. She smirked, thinking about how she too would often just grab some of Debbie’s clothes and not even give them back later.

“I know we’ve talked about it. It’s not that. I mean- I just can’t sleep. I’m probably reading this stupid book for the 20th time only because I can never fucking sleep. It’s hard, without…” Debbie’s eyes would start to get watery if she hadn’t known any better, feeling so vulnerable in front of her partner. But she felt grateful for Lou’s silly smile growing wider, and the pang of pity as well. Usually that would piss her off, make her feel like she was nothing, like people were always just trying to be nice to her out of politeness and not because they cared for her, but this was Lou. And she knew the truth whenever it came to Lou.

“Yes, c’mon. Leave the bloody book there.” Lou walked to where the brunette was sitting on the couch and helped her stand up, grabbing the book with her right hand and Debbie’s waist with the other. Debbie looked at her with guilt in her eyes.

“Lou, I…”

“Yeah?” she watched the blonde rub her eyes in a sleepy way before yawning and sticking out a hand to her in the most loving, Lou way possible.

“Nothing. Thank you.” she closed her brown cardigan tighter around her shivering body, taking Lou’s hand and walking upstairs to Lou’s room.

Lou let Debbie make herself at home as the brunette tucked herself in and waited for her on her side of the bed. Lou usually slept in the middle of the bed, but she didn’t mind this, at all. The room was a bit dark and had one big window that shone the night lights from the shore outside. Lou loved hearing the waves break inside her head and how the shadows coming from outside the window made living shadows on her walls, it always helped her fall asleep faster, but tonight she didn’t mind that either. This was one of those nights where Debbie was all she would think of. Touching her and having her scent all over her and the room, felt like she could stay like that forever, falling asleep in the brunette’s arms as she scared Debbie’s nightmares away.

She cuddled closer to her, feeling the Ocean sniff her neck as they held each other tight, and Lou covered both their bodies with the heavy white blankets.

“I think we forgot to turn off the lamp, Lou.” Debbie whispered as she felt the blonde run her fingers across her arms.

“What?” Lou glanced at her, confused, making Debbie flush at how cute her stupid little frown was.

“In the living room.”

“Oh. That’s okay, Debs. Just sleep, alright?” she kissed the crown of Debbie’s head and held her like that, letting Debbie get closer and closer. “And you never know, maybe Tam will wanna barge in in the middle of the night to try and fix your heel for you. She might need the light to see.”

“Lou.” Debbie warned, holding back a chuckle.

“Sorry. It’s true.” Lou laughed, turning her back to Debbie.

“Lou?” Debbie called again, almost too scared to speak up.

“Yeah, Debs?” she answered like a mother angry at her child, making them both laugh.

“I miss this.” Lou’s heart stopped, and she looked at those dark eyes facing her in the dark. She could barely see Debbie, but she knew every inch of that face and that woman even more than herself.

“You miss sleeping with me, Ocean? Well that’s fucking impossible because you’re always in my bed.” they shared a laugh and Debbie rolled her eyes.

“You know what I mean, Lou.”

“I do.” Lou could feel her heart break inside her chest like never before. They both knew what they felt for each other, and how they’d left things between them before Debbie went to jail, and they hadn’t walked so far from that point after she got out. Five years later. They just knew it was still there, all of it. The painful silence, the electric touches, the desperate exchange of looks in a crowded room. The longing.

But they had agreed on staying like this for a while and that was the plan the had to stick with no matter what. No matter how much they wanted to go home together after a party with the team and just jump at each other with kisses and teeth, no matter how bad they were in love with each other in a way that nothing else could ever live rent free in their minds like each other.

“I miss… sleeping with you.” Lou smirked, covering her face with her arm.

“We really had it all didn’t we?” the australian whispered.

“We still can.” Debbie said, almost like a plead.

Lou shook her head, lying with her back facing the ceiling and her elbows supporting her weight.

“We couldn’t figure it out back then, Debs. What makes you think we could now?” Debbie cupped her face, bringing it impossibly close to hers.

“We were young, Lou. And stupid.”

“Yeah, well-“ the blonde scoffed, thinking about a 19 year old Debbie Ocean kissing her for the first time. “We still are. Stupid, at least.”

“I wanna be stupid together.” her voice came out broken, her hands finding Lou’s above her brown locks. Lou smiled.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I really fucking do. I can’t be just friends. I wanna kiss you all the time and every fucking day and I wanna be able to tell people that I’m yours and you’re min-“

Lou’s lips met hers with a calm pace, both in a way of saying “please shut the fuck up” and “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

“I wanna be stupid together, too.” Lou whispered, kissing her again, and again, and again, and again, until they were both finally deep asleep.

[scapegrace74-blog]

Love Stained, Chapter 3

A/N  Here is the promised mid-week chapter.  Jamie and Claire don’t meet in this chapter, but she’s not far from his mind.  Stay tuned next weekend when they get together for their first, ahem, session.   Thanks as always for reading!

Trigger warning: mild references to past sexual assault

The whole story can be found on my AO3 page.

”Weeel, if it isn’t my favourite wee fox cub!”

Geillis Duncan was a walking embodiment of the stereotypical flamboyant therapist with her brightly patterned clothing, chunky framed glasses and vibrant red hair.  Her office was a cozy pastiche of over-stuffed armchairs, swag lamps and Himalayan salt crystals.

Jamie settled his bulk into one such armchair, eyes scanning the familiar room for any new eccentric curios.  A gaudy cat with one paw raised in greeting stared down at him from a bookshelf with porcelain eyes.

Despite outward appearances, Geillis was a dedicated and relentless professional, always eager to support her patients in whatever way she could.   These weekly meetings had become a mainstay of his otherwise tumultuous life, and he’d grown quite fond of his colleague.

Didn’t stop him from taking the piss, though.

“What’s with yon wee cat?  Looks like he’s tryin’ to hail a cab on Grassmarket,” he teased.

“Ye really dinna miss much, do ye Jamie?  That’s a maneki-neko.  A Japanese cat of good fortune.  A patient gave it to me the other day.”

“We could all use a little more good fortune in our lives,” he conceded, eyeing the cat more critically.

Their session proceeded as usual, with Geillis sharing her notes and observations of the women they were both treating.  A large part of being a sexual surrogate was understanding the underlying causes of a woman’s dysfunction, and where she was at on her journey to coming to terms with those causes. Patients had to agree to allow the two professionals to share otherwise confidential revelations. Their work was two sides of the same coin: Geillis addressed the emotional response to trauma, while Jamie focused on the physical one.

“Mary McNab will only be comin’ to see me once a month, henceforth.  She even went on a date last week.”

“That’s grand!” Jamie enthused, truly pleased for the mousy woman who had been in treatment for well over a year after a violent attack in the alley behind her flat.  It had taken three months before she’d allowed even the lightest touch of his hand.

“Aye, tis.  She went on and on about how wonderful ye were wi’ her.  It was nauseating, if I’m bein’ honest.  Still, twas a job well done.”

Geillis pushed a thick envelope across her desk towards him.  This was part of their agreement.  Jamie never accepted payment directly from his clients and only once his assignment was complete.

“I hear Claire Randall finally sought yet out,” Geillis continued after Jamie slid the money into his messenger bag.  He worked hard to school his features before looking back up.  He wasn’t the only one with a keen eye for detail, and Geillis saw him better than anyone except his sister.

“Aye, she did.  She found me at the Ridge the other night and we spoke.  Texted me afterwards to thank me for my time.  Ball’s in her court whether she wants to pursue treatment.”

The therapist observed him with the same jade green gaze as her porcelain cat.

“And what did ye make of her?”

Measuring his words carefully, Jamie went on, “Skittish.  Highly strung.  A perfectionist who needs to please to feel valued.”

Geillis nodded in agreement.

“Ye’d have made a fine psychologist, lad.  She lost both parents in a car crash when she was seven.  Claire was in the back seat at the time.  It took o’er an hour to extract her wi’ the jaws of life.”

Jamie shuddered in sympathy.  His mother and father were also gone, but he couldn’t imagine what it might do to a child to be trapped in a twisted heap of metal next to the dead bodies of her parents.  Calling for them in that throaty wisp of a voice, with no answer ever to be heard again.  He urged the salty knot in his throat down into his chest.

“Her paternal uncle raised the wee lamb,” Geillis went on.  “A bit of an absent-minded professor type, I gather, but he doted on her.  Probably to excess.  He passed away eighteen months ago.  Cancer.”

The puzzle pieces began to rearrange themselves in Jamie’s mind.  Claire had said she’d been married for just over a year.

“Attachment disorder?” he guessed.

“A reasonable assumption, but Claire has no problems maintaining healthy relationships with friends or colleagues.  No, I think we’re looking at a case of fear of abandonment that’s manifesting itself through resistance to sexual surrender.”

A thought had been niggling him since he met Claire at the Ridge and heard her heartfelt wish to save her marriage.

“What of her husband?  Should he no’ be part of her treatment since it’s their intimate life that’s at issue?”

Geillis’ mobile mouth arched downward and she cleared her throat.   Clearly, she hadn’t formed a better opinion of the bastard than he had.

“Mr. Randall is of the impression that since his prior sex life was fruitful and, in his mind at least, mutually satisfactory, the onus lies wi' his wife to resolve whatever problems she brought to their marriage bed.”

Huffing like an enraged bull, Jamie stood and began to pace in front of the floor to ceiling bookshelves, fists forming and unforming in thin air.

“He does,” Geillis conceded, “approve of her seeking therapy, along with any treatment she may request from you.”

“Mac an donas,” Jamie swore, rounding on Geillis where she sat watching him from behind her cats-eye glasses.  “What kind of man sends his wife to another to see to her pleasure?  A duty that is his by both vow and honour.”

It was a rhetorical question, but Geillis answered him anyway.

“The kind that keeps ye gainfully employed, Jamie Fraser.”

[alpacaparkaseok]

Shut Eye

pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff

premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: I was listening to the piano version of ‘For Forever’ from Dear Evan Hansen while writing this...so maybe that explains it?? THIS IS SOOO CHEESY YOU GUYS

requested by anon - thanks for the fun request, hope you enjoy! a picture of your ask/request will be at the bottom of the post. Thank you!

_________________________________

You awoke with a gasp, the covers flung aside in an effort to grab the notebook and pen you kept handy on your nightstand. Not bothering to flip on the lamp, you used the little moonlight filtering in through your window to write down the events of your dream.

You spent most nights in the dreamscape with your soulmate, his face and voice a blurry mess in your mind. The two of you would talk for hours, that much you know. The general idea of the conversation would stick with you as well, but beyond anything else, you’d wake up with the same familiar feeling.

The specific brand of heartbreak that tends to accompany goodbyes. 

Tonight’s dream had been something entirely different, though. Try as you might, your mind can’t seem to conjure up the exact words your soulmate had so calmly whispered in your ear as you stood on a red carpet facing innumerable flashing cameras. However, one thing was for certain.

He was trying to send you a message. 

He was trying to find you out in this big world. 

You’ve made a bullet-point list now, with the words red carpet, famous?? and beautiful suit starting off the list. As the list continued on, you only grew more and more confused. Why did your soulmate choose that dreamscape? After years of the usual sitting room and long chats, something must have happened to make him change.

Frustrated, you scanned last night’s notes to see if anything out of the ordinary had happened. You nearly gave up before one of the final bullet-points caught your attention.

we talked about family

did we talk about our family??

Eyebrows scrunched and lips pouted, you wracked your brain for any recollection of the conversation from the night before. Indeed, you remembered waking up with the distinct feeling of discussing future baby names, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what he had said he liked. What you did remember was that it was a name that had made you laugh, and that he had been upset about it for the rest of the evening. 

Not too upset, though. He’d still quietly warned you in the way he always did when he knew he was about to wake up. Softly lacing his hand through yours, running his thumb over the back of your knuckles until in the blink of an eye he was gone. 

There had been several occasions when you’d woken up still feeling the ghost of his hand on yours.

The notebook in your hands glared up at you, an unwelcome reminder that you were nowhere near close to understanding the meaning of your most recent dream. 

Normally, you would have just let it go. But today was different. Today you woke up just knowing that he had meant something by the dream. The way he’d brought you out on that red carpet, your arm linked through his as he led you toward a group that was already posing for pictures-

Wait. A group? You’d forgotten that part. Another bullet-point was added to the growing list.

part of a group (friends?)

Your eyes drifted shut as you tried to remember any more details, the ways the cameras flashed seemed to impair your vision as you’d looked at the group that had smiled as you neared. One of them had made some extra space for you and your soulmate, and you’d nearly keeled over when you saw who it was.

But who was it?

You sighed, scribbling one last bullet-point before your brain quit functioning.

I recognized the friends - famous?

It was a bit discouraging to look down at the list and see so many question marks, but you paid it no mind as you tossed your notebook back onto the nightstand and found the strength to get up for the day. 

You’d just have to wait until the next dream.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

“I have no idea where this is going,” you admitted while staring up at the ceiling,  sprawled out on your bed. “But I just know that he’s trying to tell me something. You know?”

Your best friend, Ji-eun, just laughed on the other side. “I’m sure he was...but honestly, who knows? Maybe he just wanted a change of scenery.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but no more fun for you tonight. I’ve got to go to bed. Got to wake up early tomorrow, remember? It’s a big day.”

“Oh, that’s right! Are you nervous?”

You’d nearly forgotten that your best friend was also one of South Korea’s most beloved singers. On most days, you forgot her stage name, too. 

“No, not really. I just usually hate having to sit there by myself, you know? There are so many groups, and them I’m just by myself. Looking beautiful.”

“Aww, poor IU, all alone.” You teased. “I’d go with you, but-”

In an instant, Ji-eun, or IU, squealed and you knew that she had an idea. “Yes! Come with me!! I’ll sneak you in! You won’t even have to worry about the red carpet- wait.”

You winced, having held the phone at a distance from your ear so as to not immediately lose your hearing. “Oh no, now what? You know I’m not fit for award shows, Ji-eun.”

“Didn’t you say that your dream was on the red carpet?”

You blinked. “Yeah.”

“Sooo,” Ji-eun dragged out, “Maybe you’ll see him.”

A wry laugh escaped you. “What makes you think he would recognize me even if he was there? Or that I would recognize him?”

IU made an indecisive noise. “Well, you already described his beautiful suit-”

“Hey, no teasing. It was absolutely gorgeous.”

“Exactly! If there’s a guy that shows up wearing that suit, then maybe that’s him! And, maybe he’s part of a group! You would recognize the group if you saw them, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re just trying to get me to come with you,” you drawled, ignoring the little spark of hope. 

“Obviously. Hey, you know that really pretty red dress you bought not that long ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Wear that, and work your dreamscape magic or something to help him remember the red dress. He’ll recognize you when he sees you tomorrow!”

With an eye roll you’re pretty sure Ji-eun heard through the phone, you groaned. “If he’s even there. If.”

“So you’ll do it?”

In the end, it was the memory of having to say goodbye every morning without even remembering who you were saying goodbye to that had you agreeing. 

••••••••••••••••••

Falling into your dreams had always felt more like waking up, the urge to stretch and run around almost too much to deny. Tonight, you entered the familiar sitting room that you’d frequented nearly every night for the past few years.

Your soulmate is waiting for you when you enter, his back turned to you.

A part of you knows that the two of you have been through this many times before. You’ve technically met your soulmate hundreds of times - maybe even thousands at this point. But every night, it’s the same little feeling of anticipation as you wait for him to turn around. 

Always wondering who it might be. Always dreading the moment you wake up and forget his face all over again, waiting for the next dream to identify him.

He’s in the black, lightly checkered suit that he wore last night, not a single strand of his black hair out of place as he turns around with wide eyes.

Your breath is momentarily caught in your throat as you suddenly recognize him, not only from the previous dreams but from nearly everywhere else in the waking world. 

“Hey,” Yoongi mumbles, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”

You looks down at the red dress you’re wearing, the same one you’re planning on wearing at the award show. Nodding at his suit, you grin.

“Are you wearing that to the award show today?”

He nods, stepping toward you. “I wish you could go, I know that I’d be able to find you-”

“I am.”

Yoongi stops, his mouth slightly open. He takes a single step toward you. “You are? How?”

“Ji-eun is my best friend, remember?”

He takes a moment to recall that tidbit of information about you, nodding. “So...we’ll see each other.”

“I hope so.” You tilt your head. “But will you recognize me? It was so hard for me to remember any details after last night’s dream, I feel like it’s getting harder.”

“I think it is,” Yoongi agrees, striding over to you and grabbing your hand even as a light pink dusts over his cheeks. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this dress.” With a wink that belies his shy nature, Yoongi leads you out onto the red carpet, where cameras are waiting. 

He walks you through the event, glancing at you every few seconds as though afraid that you’ll disappear at any moment. That’s certainly a valid concern - it’s happened plenty of times.

You’ve just made it to where the rest of the members are standing when you feel the tell-tale pull back toward reality. 

You’ll be waking up at any moment now. Most likely because of that pesky nest of birds that have decided to camp out just outside of your windows. 

Instinctively your grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens, and he turns to you. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re about to leave.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You blurt out, taking in every last detail of him. From the way his cheeks are still pink to the fit of his suit. 

Yoongi absolutely shocks you as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling you a little closer. His breath that dusts over your ear feels so real as he whispers gently to you.

“We’ll find a way. I promise.”

•••••••••••••••••••

It was the same dream as the night before; the same infuriating goodbye that seeped into your bones as you hurtled awake. However, this time, you could have sworn that you recalled a puppy-dog gaze that was begging you to remember him as you left the dreamscape.

You’d worn the red dress you currently had on, the red lace falling just below your knees. A part of you remembered the way your soulmate had reacted when you’d waltzed into the dreamscape, the way you had casually linked your arm through his as you walked onto the red carpet.

Today you couldn’t find the energy to write anything in your full notebook, opting to bury your head in your hands.

“Who are you?” You groaned. The feeling of his soft lips against your forehead has you sighing, wishing that you could replay it all over again. After shooting a glare at the red dress hanging in your closet, you grabbed your notebook to write down one note before getting up.

We love each other

•••••••••••••••••••

Ji-eun - er, IU, instructed you to wait for her at the entrance to the photo-op portion of the red carpet. She would be busy doing little interviews before that, which honestly didn’t seem that appealing to you. 

Especially not when you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up.

Staring down at your red dress, you nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a hand on your shoulder.

“Ha! You’re jumpy today,” IU teased, “I wonder why.”

“Oh good, you’re finished.” You ignored her tease, happy to get moving. “You look amazing.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but she still deserved to be complimented. IU looked absolutely ethereal in her flowy green gown, the two of you looking like some sort of Christmas ad. 

“You look great as well!” She motioned toward the carpet. “I think we’re just after this group. Ready?”

Armed with a smile and your best friend at your side, you ventured onto the carpet. It was easier than you though it would be; most of the time you were stepping aside to allow the photographers a clear view of IU.

You’ve nearly made it to the end when a fresh round of screaming picks up. 

There’s only one group that can command that much attention.

You couldn’t help but crane your neck as you see BTS walk onto the carpet, just a couple of groups behind you. Your eyes widened on their own accord when you saw them, unable to shake the feeling of having met them before. 

Of course, they pay you no mind. However, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Suga took a moment to get up on his tippy-toes, looking around. You went to point it out to IU, nobody paying either of you any mind as you walk off the carpet. You lost all ability to speak, however, as you took a closer look.

It’s the suit. 

The one that is checkered with a light gray, the one that fit your soulmate just right. 

It’s the black hair that’s perfectly styled. 

And as Suga turned to look your way, you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your red dress.

Almost like he had been looking for a red dress.

In the span of a single heartbeat, you made eye contact with the idol, the same question lingering in your eyes. 

For Min Yoongi, that’s all it took. 

Abandoning all precepts, he took off down the carpet, heading straight toward you. From the way the other members took one look at you and your red dress and immediately began speaking to those present, you knew that they’d been waiting for this. Knew that they weren’t planning on keeping this low-key, because there was no real way to do that. 

Not as Yoongi saw you and knew. 

You managed to take three steps toward him before he was before you, grinning with his gummy smile even as his ears turned red. 

“Quick,” Yoongi breathed out, reaching down to take your hands in his. “If it’s really you, tell me what name we can’t agree on for a girl.”

The question threw you off guard, making you laugh. But after a moment, you found with a gasp that you remember.

You remembered everything.

The way the two of you first awkwardly stumbled into the dreamscape at the age of nineteen. How you eventually opened up to each other, grew to care deeply about the other. 

You remembered the nights when the two of you were rambunctious and laughing at stupid stories Yoongi told you about the boys. 

You remembered the nights when you sat in silence, dreading the moment you would have to wake up.

And you remembered that just a few days ago, Yoongi had brought up family. You’d spent the night talking about how many children you’d want, how you’d raise them, what you’d name them.

And there was one horrible name that he loved and you hated, and neither of you were willing to budge on it.

“Ugh,” you groaned even as you smiled. “We are not naming her Pearl! It would make her sound like a pirate ship!”

The cameras flashed, which made Yoongi’s eyes glimmer as he laughed along with you. Then, without a care in the world except for knowing for certain that it was all real, Yoongi tugged you closer until your foreheads touched and all you could see were his dark eyes pulling you in.

“I told you we’d find a way.”

Hundreds of cameras flashed, documenting the moment and effectively labeling it a dream come true.

masterlist

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Drabble#5)

Summary: You suddenly feel so insecure before leaving for Japan.

Pairing: Always You!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: mutual masturbation, unprotected sex,

Notes: This is set before OC leaves for Japan! Remember requests for drabble ideas are open! Lets chat:)

taglist: @seagulljk @fancycollectormoon © taestefully-in-luv

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

You could get used to this for the rest of your life…snuggled up in Jungkook’s arms while lying in bed on a lazy Saturday night. You listen to him as he talks about a new project he’s working on for work…he speaks so animatedly, constantly talking with his hands. You giggle to yourself as he gets so excited speaking about some new scenes he gets to edit and he drops his hands to your body.

“What?” he pouts, “Why are you laughing at me?”

“Nothing.” You sing, “You’re just too cute.”

“I’m going to miss this.” Jungkook says softly, “Just lying here with you.”

“Me too, but a year will fly by.”

“So you say to make us feel better.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “It’s going to feel like forever and you know it.”

“Then I get two forever’s with you?”

“You’re so cheesy.” Jungkook chuckles and you hit his arm.

“You’re literally way cheesier than I am.” You turn over in his embrace and snuggle into his chest, nuzzling your face into his thiddies.

“Debatable.” He squeezes your body into his and sighs out. “I—”

You feel your phone buzzing on the nightstand and you groan at the inconvenience. Who is interrupting your precious time with your man?

“Ignore it.” Jungkook smiles, “If it’s important they’ll call again.”

“Good idea.” You nuzzle further into his chest. “It’s just you and m—”

Your phone starts going off again and you roll your eyes, releasing yourself from Jungkook’s hold as you check to see who the hell is calling.

“It’s Jimin.” You whine, “It’s always Jimin.”

“Answer it.” Jungkook chuckles.

“Hello?.......uh huh…..what?........ugh…..okay….well, what happened though?......oh damn, alright.” You speak into the phone and Jungkook is trying to listen in and he’s mouthing ‘put it on speaker’ to you, so you do.

“…And I told her! It’s your fault babe! But you know how Trina is. Anyway she needs us.” Jimin’s loud voice is heard on speaker.

“It has to be tonight?” you whine.

“Girl, she’s already at the bar. I’m on my way there now.”

“Fuck, alright. Be there in 30.” You hang up the phone and give Jungkook an apologetic look.

“Trina and Holly got into a fight and Trina is spiraling because she’s dramatic and claims she needs to get wasted tonight to forget about their fight.” You explain. “So we are going to meet her and Jimin at The Circle.”

“That places drinks are expensive though.” Jungkook looks disappointed to say the least. “Why do I have to go anyway? Why can’t you and Jimin just console her?”

“I’ll suck your dick right now if you come with me.” You offer with a wiggle of your brows.

“Okay, deal.” He says quickly with a cocky grin. “Making deals with you is so fun.”

~~~~~~

“Wait, you’re fighting because of … those?” your eyes travel down to Trina’s chest where you can see her freshly pierced nipples through her thin t shirt.

“Personally, I love them.” Jimin shrugs with a sly smile.

“Why doesn’t Holly like them? I wouldn’t think she would have a problem?” you ask and Trina hits her head on the bar top.

“It’s because I was dressed like this all day and we were supposed to meet her parents…she doesn’t want me to meet her parents looking like this.” Trina says with an eye roll. “Which is stupid. I don’t need her parents approval. But she’s worried what they might think.”

“Isn’t that kind of…fair?” you point out and both Trina and Jimin look at you with disbelief.

“Fair?” Trina spits out, “They’re just piercings!”

“Yeah y/n!” Jimin defends too, “Come on, its 2021.”

“It just seems like a useless thing to fight about.” You admit softly, you reach for Trina’s hand, “Ever heard of compromise?”

“Where’s her compromise?” Trina asks with a raised brow.

“Okay, fair.” You say, defeated. “Let’s just get you drunk.”

“Now you are finally starting to make sense.” Jimin says with a grin. “I’ll order the first round of shots.”

Your hand goes to Jungkook’s thigh as he sits next to you just listening to all of your conversations. He looks your way and offers you a sweet smile and you squeeze his thigh. Jungkook takes this opportunity to lean over and kiss you.

“Can you not rub your relationship in my sad face right now?” Trina groans.

“Whoops sorry.” You say with a sheepish grin. “We can tone it down” and Jungkook frowns.

A couple hours pass and Trina is starting to have fun, she’s on the dance floor with Jimin as they rock their bodies to the beat of the song. She looks a lot calmer and happier and that makes you smile.

“Jungkook?”

You hear a soft, feminine voice slice through the loud music, you turn your head to see a girl that looks quite familiar making her way over to your boyfriend.

“Woah, Ari!” Jungkook stands up, a bright smile on his face.

“I thought it was you!” she says, coming up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck as she goes in for a hug. You feel your chest get hit with a wave of anxiety. Who is she? Why do you recognize her?

“Yeah, it’s me.” He hugs her back and you watch as discomfort crawls all over your skin.

“You look so good, wow.” This Ari girl grabs a feel of Jungkook’s bicep and he turns pink. Is he fucking blushing? You clear your throat. And both of them look in your direction.

“This is y/n.” Jungkook smiles at you, his hands gesturing towards you and Ari raises a single brow.

“Right, you’re roommate.”

“Actually, his girl—”

“So Jungkook, we should definitely catch up. You still have my number right?” She winks at him and you want to throw hands.

“Yeah, I do.” He admits, “I—”

“I’m his girlfriend.” You cut in, “In case you didn’t know. Which I am just going to assume you didn’t, also can you take your hand off my boyfriends arm?”

Ari steps back, clearly embarrassed.

“Sorry I—”

“Also could you just leave us alone?” You chuckle bitterly and Jungkook goes red.

“y/n…” his warning tone making you shudder. “What’s—”

“Like, now.” You shoo her away with your hand and she stutters out that she’s sorry again before walking away.

You grab your drink and chug it back, staring at the dance floor with a blank expression.

“What the hell was that?” Jungkook finally asks, anger evident in his voice.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” You snap your head in his direction. “Want to tell me why she looks so familiar?”

“We…we use to sleep together.” He admits. “but why the hell were you so rude?”

“Because she was feeling you up. Which you didn’t stop her by the way. And call me crazy but it looks like you were blushing.”

“Okay, you are crazy. I wasn’t blushing. I was just embarrassed.” He says. “I was going to introduce you as my girlfriend.”

“Really? When? Before or after she tries to get in your pants again?”

Jungkook’s face falls and he’s grabbing his whiskey and throwing it back.

“She wouldn’t have the opportunity to get in my pants. You know that.”

“Do I?”

“y/n…” he says softly, “I would never cheat on you.”

“How am I supposed to believe that when you can’t even reject an old fling? Is this how it’s going to be when I’m in Japan? Every single girl you’ve previously fucked is going to make a pass at you and you’re too nice to say ‘fuck off’?”

“Every girl I’ve?” Jungkook looks at you incredulously. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“What? It’s not my fault you’ve slept with half the city. I’ve gotta be worried about every girl who comes to talk to you? Because you’ve probably fucked them right?” you spit out, the alcohol finally starting to have its effects on you.

“Careful y/n.” Jungkook warns, “You’re saying things you don’t mean.”

“But I do mean them?” you laugh. “What’s it going to be like when I’m in Japan?”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about that because you trust me.” Jungkook says but it sounds more like a question. “You do trust me, right?”

“I—”

“We have bigger problems if you don’t trust me, y/n.” he stands from his bar stool and looks at you with a pained expression. “I’m going home.”

You sit at the bar, feeling fucking bothered. You’re too angry to feel bad about Jungkook right now. You feel hot with irritation. Trina makes her way to you and notices your sour expression.

“…You literally shood her away?” Trina is trying not to laugh but can’t help it. “Damn, savage.”

“Was that too far?” You groan into your hands, “Jungkook is pissed.”

“You’re being insecure y/n.” Trina looks at you with a soft expression, she’s trying to be gentle with you. “Like, hella insecure.”

“Sure I got a little jealous….”

“Bitch, you told me you told him he slept with the whole city.” Trina points out, “You probably hurt his feelings. Making him feel like a lil slut and shit.”

“He said I don’t trust him.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do! It’s the girls I don’t trust!”

“Weak argument.”

“Trina…”

“Listen, you need to work this out, pronto. You leave in 10 days girl. You need to make sure you can trust your boyfriend when you’re in another country. And he needs to feel like you trust him.”

You know Trina is right. She usually is. You look at her with worry before you speak.

“I can work it out with him tomorrow, right now we are focusing on you having fun.”

“Oh girl, I didn’t tell you? Me and Holly worked it out.” She laughs. “Compromise, remember?”

“Proud of you.” You blow her a kiss and grab your phone and purse.

“I’ll text you, tell Jimin bye and love him.”

Trina nods her head and waves you off, you get up from your stool and head towards the bars exit.

~~~~~~

“Jungkook?” you creep through the front door to find the living room lamp lit up and Jungkook’s dark figure sitting on the couch.

“Jungkook?” you walk closer to him and he sighs out heavily.

“Let’s talk.” He whispers. “Now.”

You nod your head quickly and take a seat next to him on the sofa, you leave some space though.

“Okay.” You breathe out. “Let’s talk.”

“I don’t want to fight.” He warns. “Let’s be mature.”

“Okay.”

“What the fuck was that at the bar?” he says calmly. “You were being…”

“Don’t say crazy.”

“Well? What do you expect me to say? I’ve rarely seen that side of you.” He says, his breathing beginning to pick up. “You embarrassed me!” he admits, sighing out.

“You let her touch you.”

“It was fucking harmless.”

“Oh? That’s harmless? She was getting a feel for your muscles? And that’s harmless?” you spit out harshly. “Think of it this way,” you give him an unimpressed look. “You would absolutely not stand for it if we were in each others positions.”

Jungkook gulps. It’s true…he would be going crazy himself, he probably would have punched a dude if he was touching you too long.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” You snap. “You absolutely would hate this.”

“You don’t trust me…” Jungkook says softly. “You think I’ve slept with every girl I meet…”

“Haven’t you?” You ask bitterly. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Jungkook face falls into a deep frown, he’s hurt. He looks hurt. He is hurt.

“Stop trying to hurt me because you’re mad.” He tries to say a little more sternly but there’s hurt in his voice.

“What number am I?”

“y/n…Don’t do that.” Jungkook scrunches his face up. “Don’t start this.”

“You know all the guys I’ve slept with.” You point out, “But I have no idea how many women you’ve hooked up with. What number am I?”

“Don’t.” he scoots a little closer to you, “It doesn’t matter.” He tries, “You’re the last person I will ever sleep with.”

“Until I’m far away in Japan and there’s no one to stop you from fucking some random—”

“Enough.” Jungkook’s voice cuts in sharp, causing you to flinch. “For fucks sake, y/n.” he stands up, frustrated. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he’s turning red.

“What’s wrong with me?” you yell, “You’re the one who doesn’t know how to keep it in his pants!”

“Why the fuck are you being so insecure? Have I ever made you feel like you weren’t good enough for me? You’re all I want, y/n. But you’re being crazy.” Jungkook takes a seat again, his head falling in his hands.

“Stop calling me crazy!” You cry out, “And understand that tonight you did very little to stop a girl from hitting on you! Right in front of me! How will you be when I’m not around?” you feel your eyes burning and soon, you’re starting to cry. Only because you’re so angry.

“She wasn’t hitting on me!” he yells, “And if she was, I didn’t notice because it does not matter! I only have eyes for you!”

“We just aren’t seeing eye to eye.” You state, wiping your face.

“Clearly not.”

“There’s no point in talking then.” You stand up and head to the bedroom, slamming the door shut. Jungkook guesses he’s sleeping on the couch tonight.

An hour or so passes and Jungkook is still sitting in his spot on the sofa. Just thinking. Why are you being so insecure? He guesses you are feeling more uneasy about leaving for Japan that you’ve led on. You are worried about all the girls that will talk to him, touch him, ask to hang out. And what if…he groans into his hands. He’s just trying to see your point of view and understand you. But in his eyes this just comes down to you not trusting him and that hurts.

Jungkook stands up and walks to your bedroom, he slowly creeps open the door just to find you quietly crying in bed.

“Baby…” Jungkook calls out for you softly and you freeze.

“Leave me alone.” You mumble.

Jungkook walks closer to the bed with a frown drawn on his face, he sits on the edge of the bed and begins rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly.

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong, remember?” you ask bitterly while sniffling.

“I thought a lot about it and I think I understand where you’re coming from now.” He continues to rub your back. “Will you turn around and look at me?” he asks. You shake your head over and over, denying his request.

“Why not?”

“I’ve been crying.” You admit. “I look ugly.”

“That’s impossible. You’re the prettiest person on the planet.”

“You’re saying there’s someone prettier on a different planet?” you half joke as you sit up.

“Okay, pretties person in the universe.” His hand reaches towards your face and he caresses your cheek.

“I’m sorry I was rude to her…” you finally say, “Actually, not really. But I am sorry that I embarrassed you.”

“I guess I’ll take it.” Jungkook chuckles. “please just tell me you trust me.” His voice is pleading and it makes you guilty.

“I do baby.” You grab on to his hand that caresses your cheek. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t.”

“You’re just scared of being so far away from me right?”

“Yes…” you finally admit, “I do feel insecure…I just don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Have I ever made you feel like I wouldn’t be faithful to you?”

Your eyes widen at his question and you begin to frantically shake your head and he chuckles.

“Then trust me. With your whole heart and soul. Just trust me.” Jungkook smiles, “I will reassure you every day if I have to. That you’re the only one I see, the only one I want.”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?” he asks, his brows pulled together.

“Going long distance. You know how many couples break up because of it?”

“Not us.” He says, “You’re my best friend y/n. We can literally get through everything together.” He assures you.

“You won’t have sex for months at a time…” your eyes fall to the bed, “What if you get—”

“Oh my god.” He laughs, “Do you think I am some sort of sex addict?”

“No, no. Well, maybe.” You joke. “I just don’t want you to—”

“I can handle it, Jeez.” His hand falls to your lap and takes your hand in his, “Love of my life, remember?”

“Yeah.” You whisper.

Jungkook leans forward until his lips are touching yours, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. “I love you.” He says softly then he’s putting pressure on your lips in a long kiss. Your hands immediately go to his hair, you softly tug on his locks as you kiss him back.

“We should sleep?” You whisper, pulling away.

“I don’t feel like sleeping” Jungkook goes in to kiss you again, his lips moving hotly against yours. You can feel his desperation with the way his tongue quickly finds its way in your mouth.

“I want you to touch yourself.” Jungkook says against your lips so suddenly making you gasp.

“W-What?”

“You’ll be touching yourself a lot while you’re in Japan because I’m not there, get used to it.”

“Jungkook…”

“I want to watch you touch yourself.” He says again. “I want you to take these little shorts off, and touch yourself. I want you to rub your pussy over your panties, then I want to watch you slip these pretty little fingers inside.” Jungkook breathes out heavily as he speaks. “Can you do that for me baby?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” He kisses your lips again, “And I want your legs nice and spread for me, giving me the perfect view.”

“Yes.” You lean back in bed shimmying your shorts off leaving you in nothing but your underwear and a tank top. You release a long, long breath and move your hand down to your hips…you look at Jungkook like you’re seeking permission. He nods his head slowly as his dark eyes gaze into yours.

“Go ahead baby.” He breathes out, “Show me what you’re going to do when I’m not around.”

You fingers slide over the material of your cotton panties, until you’re finding the spot that is most sensitive. You start rubbing slow, slow circles over it and you tilt your head back in satisfaction. Your anger sure made you frustrated.

“Good girl….let me know when your panties start to get really damp.”

“They are.” You admit shyly. “Want to feel?”

“No baby. This is all you. But I do want you to take them off. Wanna see how wet you are with my own eyes.”

You lift yourself up and drag down your underwear, leaving your bottom half bare.

“Spread your legs. Want to see how sticky you are.”

You gulp, but you listen. You slowly begin to spread your legs apart as Jungkook watches, your wetness stringing from one side of your folds to the other. He licks his lips, god, he wants to just eat you up.

“Fuck…” he breathes out heavily. “Gather all that,” he points to your pussy, “And get your fingers soaked. Then stick two fingers inside.”

Your fingers go back to your center, gathering your juices before you’re sliding two fingers inside your desperate hole. You groan when you insert the fingers and Jungkook smiles.

“Go ahead, start fucking yourself.” Jungkook palms himself over his jeans. “And be loud.”

You start to slowly thrust your fingers in and out of your hole, the squelching noises begins to fill the room along with your whimpers.

“Jungkook…” you whine, “Please touch me.”

“Not yet baby.” He says, still rubbing his cock over his jeans. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

“Pull your cock out, let me see it.” You command and Jungkook’s eyes expand in pleasant surprise.

“My cock turn you on?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Even just seeing it?”

“Yes.” You start to move your fingers faster, curling them every few moments.

“Whatever you want, princess.” He unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down to his thighs and drags his briefs down just low enough that his cock is making an appearance. It stands tall, hard and swollen.

“Oh Jungkook.” You cry out.

“What is it baby?” he smirks.

“Just enjoying the view.” You playfully throw his words back at him and he grins at you.

“Can I touch my clit?”

“This is all you baby, of course. What would you do if I weren’t here?”

Your fingers leave your cunt and you’re quickly rubbing tight, focused circles on your bundle of nerves and you throw your head back, and moan out in pleasure. Then you lift your head and gaze at Jungkook’s painfully hard cock.

“I can’t come without you.” You whine, “I need you.”

“You can. You gotta get used to it baby.”

“Jungkook….”

“I’ll give you an image to think of when you are touching yourself in Japan.” He says, he brings his hand to his mouth and spits in his palm, then he’s grabbing a hold of his member, slathering his saliva all over it, getting it nice and wet. He begins stroking his cock for you, as he screw his eyes shut and starts rubbing faster and faster.

You stare at him with eyes full of lust as you circle your clit faster and faster. You feel the tension building until it finally hits you. You release moan after moan as you come. Jungkook opens his eyes and watches you as you come undone, he smiles and nods his head in approval.

“Good girl. Good girl.”

You feel high just off his praises alone. Your fingers leave your clit and you crawl closer to him, your hand reaching for his face as you suddenly push your fingers past his pretty lips.

“Taste me.” You command and he looks up at you with big doe eyes and begins sucking your fingers clean. You make your way on to his lap and start kissing him ferociously, your tongue forcing its way into his mouth, he tangles his with yours just as quickly. His hands gripping at your hips as you grind down onto his hard length.

“ooof” he sighs out when he feels your wet folds grinding into his member. “How needy are you?”

“You just made me come by my own fingers when I have you right in front of me, that’s mean. Was this a punishment?” you breathe out and he darkly chuckles.

“I’m not trying to punish you baby.” He kisses all over your face.

“Felt like it.” You say, your tone shifting into something sad.

“Hey.” He tilts your head up with his fingers, “I’m not mad at you anymore. We worked it out.” He softly reminds you.

“But I still feel…” You look to the side and he sighs.

“Baby,” he slowly kisses your lips until he’s nibbling at your jaw. “You have nothing to worry about, I promise.” He leaves soft kisses down your neck, his lips caressing your skin tenderly. “You are the only one for me.” He promises while nibbling on your throat. “You can trust me.” He’s sucking into your skin now, no doubt marking you. “Can you trust me?”

You rotate your head as it falls backwards, giving him more access to your skin as you breathe out roughly.

“Yes.” You say breathlessly. “I trust you.”

“Good.” He’s lifting you off his body and setting you down on the bed gently, your head lightly bouncing off the pillow. He guides you by the arm to sit up, and he’s lifting your tank top off your body. He stares at you breasts and licks his lips until he’s groaning.

“Remind me one of these days to fuck your tits.”

“Why not right now?” you wink and Jungkook looks at you softly with a small smile adorning his face.

“Because right now I am going to make love to you.”

You feel your cheeks flush at his words, your stomach filling with tens of millions of butterflies. They all take off at the same time, a whole swarm of them, flying around making you feel a million things.

“M-Make love?”

“Oh baby, I am going to make you feel like the most special person in the universe.” He promises.

Jungkook stands up and removes his clothing, leaving him naked in front of you. His muscles have no doubt grown, his waist is tiny and his thighs, god, his meaty, muscular thighs…you basically drool at the sight. How the fuck did you get this lucky? You start to feel insecure again, like maybe you aren’t good enough for him? He’s so fucking hot and you’re…you.

“Why you frowning baby?” he crawls over your body, pinning you down. “I only want to see you smile.”

“You’re so hot, Jungkook.” You say more seriously, “Maybe…”

“Don’t say something stupid.”

“It’s just…”

“Nope, don’t wanna hear it.” He leans down and pecks your lips. “You’re hotter.” He says simply and you blush. “Your beautiful lips…your eyes…your cute nose…” he kisses each body part as he talks. “Your tits.” He smirks, leaning down until he’s grabbing a handful of your breast and he takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the hardening bud. He releases himself from your boob and leans back up to kiss your lips.

“And your cute tummy.” He slides down your body until he’s kissing the skin of your stomach. “And fuck, your hips drive me insane.” He says gripping at them until his lips find your hip bone and he’s sucking bruises.

“And this perfect, perfect pussy.” He says, lowering himself further until his face is only an inch away from your heat. “Can I have a little taste?” he asks with his big doe eyes and you nod.

“Thank you.” And he’s slipping his tongue between your folds and tasting you. You release a long moan when he does this.

“So delicious.” He says, making his way back up your body. “Think you can take my cock right now?”

“Yes.” You practically rush to get out, “Fuck, yes.”

Jungkook slides his cock between your folds before he’s slapping his cock on your pussy.

“You really think you can take this cock?”

“Yes, Jungkook. Please.”

“My perfect girl wants me to make love to her, right?” he says more softly, “Wants to feel me inside.”

“Yes.” You moan out, “Yes!”

Suddenly, the feel of Jungkook’s length entering your body causes fire to shoot through you. Maybe you should have let him stretch you out. But the burn feels incredible. He enters you very slowly, as not to hurt you. His hands find yours and once he bottoms out he’s lifting your interlocked fingers above your head.

“My perfect girl.” He breathes out heavily, “You feel so fucking good.”

“You feel even better.” You choke out. “Amazing.”

His chest is heaving against yours, his body crushing you but you don’t care, his cock inside you has you going crazy.

“You are my favorite person.” He says as he starts slowly thrusting into you, his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy. His hips meet yours softly as he carefully grinds into you. His thrusts are so controlled it is making you lose yourself.

“And I would do anything for you.” He whispers on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He begins kissing you, his lips moving over yours slowly.

“You’re so so gorgeous.” He whines as he starts fucking you a little faster, his hips still grinding into you deliciously. Then his lips are back on yours again, his tongue very sloppily dancing with yours.

The sound of his skin slapping yours and his loud, loud moans starts to echo in your ears. You begin to release higher pitched moans in his mouth and he swallows them down happily. Jungkook pulls away from your lips to gaze into your eyes, his lips parted as he whines in pleasure.

“Ahhh baby.” He continues to stare down at you with lust filled eyes, “Feels so good.” His eyes threaten to shut in pleasure but he manages to keep them open and on you.

“No one can compare to you…” he moans, “I am so, so”

He starts thrusting faster, “So in love with you.” He brings your hands down and detangles his fingers and his hand moves to cup your jaw and he’s kissing you again, so lovingly, so passionately. His hips slap into yours quickly as he starts to lose his control of his movements as the pleasure builds up.

You reach your hand between your bodies and start massaging his balls and he whines out loud, a loud and long moan. He starts fucking faster and harder now. His pleasure building so fucking fast.

“Can you come from my cock alone? Or do you need my fingers baby?”

“Your cock, I want to cream all over it.” You moan.

“Yeah? And you want me to come inside you, right? You want to clench around me so hard, milking me dry of my cum?”

“Yes!” You scream, “I need your cum!”

“Yeah, you need this cum of mine to survive right?”

“Yes baby!”

“You need this cum?” He lifts one of your legs up over his shoulder, and leans down close to kiss you again. This angle has his dick brushing against every fucking spot that makes your toes curl.

“Come for me my love.” You beg, “I will come with you.”

“You’re the love of my life, of course you will.” He starts fucking you deeper, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. You fondle his balls some more and he’s losing it, absolutely losing it.

“Gonna fuck my cum so deep into your pussy baby. That’s okay right?” he’s breathless as his hips slam into you.

“Fucking please!” You beg, your orgasm right around the corner, you can feel it building and building. You feel your mind go hazy, like you’re drunker than you’ve ever been. The pleasure so intense as the band inside you snaps.

“Aaaahhh.” You scream out as your orgasm hits you, “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

Jungkook looks into your eyes as he continues to thrust inside you, his own orgasm approaching as you squeeze his cock through yours. His thrusts turn sloppy as he hurries to lean down to start kissing you while he finally releases his cum. He breathes heavily into your mouth as he comes into you. His hips finally stilling when he leans back from kissing you with a dopey smile on his face.

“I love you so much.” He sighs out before slipping his cock out of you, “You always feel so amazing.” He admits between heavy breaths. “I’m so glad you were made for me and me only.”

You calm your own breaths as you come down from your high, your legs still shaking. You smile up at your boyfriend and caress his cheek lovingly.

“I’m the only one for you, right?” you ask quietly and Jungkook smiles sweetly, leaning down to peck your lips.

“Yes baby.” He smiles, “The only one for me.”

[softspideys]

The Perfect Date

summary: tom makes it his mission to take you on the perfect first date. the only problem is, you have no idea. 

warnings: none

word count: 3.6k

pairings: tom holland x reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a valentine’s day fic but then I forgot about it. oops. plz enjoy anyway

Tom had just started the last lap of Wario’s Gold Mine when he heard Zendaya ask, “Got any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

He tried not to pay attention to your answer, focusing on keeping his lead, but he couldn’t help it. His eyes flickered over to where you were sitting at the kitchen table, absently circling your finger around the rim of your wine glass.

You straightened up at her question, scoffing. “Are you kidding? When’s the last time you saw me date anybody, Z?”

“Hey,” she said, pointing at you accusingly. “Don’t even start with me. I set you up with people all the time, it’s not my fault you’re so picky.”

“It’s called having standards,” you fired back. “Sorry I’m not interested in pretentious jerks who insist on mansplaining Tarantino films to me over their venti-soy-no-foam latte with a triple shot of espresso.”

Zendaya cackled, and though he couldn’t see your face, Tom could tell you were smiling too; your words had no real bite to them.

“Seriously though,” you continued with a sigh. “I think I might just give up dating for a while. Lately it feels like my only options are either crappy blind dates or going through a sleazy hookup app for some mediocre sex. I can’t remember the last time I got properly asked out and went on, like, a nice date.”

As soon as you said that, the gears started turning in Tom’s head. And then he got an idea so good he almost forgot about the race entirely, until Harrison hit him with a red shell and passed him, sailing over the finish line in first place.

“Yes!” Harrison cheered, causing you and Zendaya to look over, startled. “Finally, I won!”

“Wow,” Zendaya said, amused. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever lost in Mario Kart, Holland.”

“Yeah, what’s gotten into you?” you asked teasingly as Harrison got up and did a victory dance.

Tom normally hated losing, but he was too preoccupied at the moment to care. “Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just . . . a little rusty, I guess.”

You raised your eyebrows, but then Zendaya challenged Harrison to a rematch, and the two of them immediately started a new grand prix while you called dibs on the winner. With the distraction in place, Tom had plenty of time to come up with a plan.

The four of you had been friends for years, but he’d always harbored something of a crush on you. He’d never tried to push the boundaries or pursue you because he liked your relationship as it was already, and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But this would be different. This was harmless. He was simply going to show you how you deserved to be treated, give you a good date to remember among the bad ones.

Nothing else. Right?

* * *

You eyed the huge bouquet of roses your coworker had on her desk and tried not to feel too envious. She’d made a big show of bringing them in this morning and inviting everyone who walked by to smell them, going on and on about how her girlfriend had surprised her for Valentine’s Day yesterday.

So what, you thought to yourself. I can get myself flowers whenever I want; I don’t need a holiday to have an excuse to do it. It really didn’t make you feel better though.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said, making you jump a mile. You looked up. Tom was peering over the wall of your cubicle, which was . . . unexpected. He hardly ever visited you at work.

“Oh, hi,” you said. “I didn’t even see you come in.”

“Yeah, you were totally zoned out,” Tom said. “Good thing I brought caffeine.” He placed a to-go cup from your favorite coffee shop on your desk. You saw the order written on the side; he’d gotten it exactly right.

“Wow,” you said, surprised but grateful. “Thanks.” You’d already had coffee this morning, but clearly it was shaping up to be a two-cup type of day. You took a careful sip and felt better already.

“No problem.” Tom followed your line of vision to your coworker’s desk. “Pretty flowers.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, a little quietly. You cleared your throat. “So, what’s up? Did we have plans today or something?”

“Oh, no,” he said, shifting from foot to foot, “but that’s actually kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” He seemed nervous, which in turn made you nervous.

“Okay,” you said, giving him your full attention.  

“So . . . are you doing anything this Friday night?”

It was only Monday. You thought for a second before shaking your head. “I don’t think so.”

“Would you like to have dinner? With me?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. That was it? “Oh. Sure.”

You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes widen the slightest bit. “Really? I mean, great. Cool.” He scratched his nose. “So, Friday at six o’clock, then? I’ll text you the name of the place?”

“Sounds good,” you said. He seemed excited, though you couldn’t figure out why. You got dinner with him, Harrison, and Zendaya at least once a week.

“Alrighty,” Tom said, swinging his arms a little and nodding. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. See you Friday.”

“See you,” you said. Did he really come all the way to your office to ask you this in person instead of just texting you like he normally would? Maybe he’d been nearby or something. You watched him leave, mostly confused but also kind of endeared.

“Was that your boyfriend?” your coworker asked, subtly adjusting her flowers again.

You quickly shook your head, turning back to your computer and taking another sip of your coffee. “Oh, no. Just a friend.”

As Tom left your office, he allowed himself to do a small fist-pump. Getting you to agree was the hardest part. Now came the slightly-easier-but-still-hard part: making sure he gave you the best first date ever.

* * *

Something strange was going on with Tom. You first realized it when you brought up the dinner on Friday to Zendaya and she had no clue what you were talking about.

“Tom didn’t invite you?”

“Nope.” She popped the “p.”

“Huh.” You chewed your lip. “That’s . . . weird. Maybe he figured I’d just tell you about it. And I guess you don’t really need an invitation anyway . . . do you think he invited Harrison?”

“I don’t know.” You were on the phone, so you couldn’t see Zendaya’s face, but it kind of sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “Maybe he wants it to be just the two of you.”

“Maybe.” It was rare, but it wasn’t like you never spent time with just Tom or Harrison.  You couldn’t remember the last time you had dinner with either of them one-on-one, though. This seemed . . . different. “But I’m sure he won’t mind if you guys show up,” you said with a shrug.

Now Zendaya did laugh. “No, no, it’s fine,” she said. “I think I’m supposed to babysit my niece and nephew anyway. You guys have fun.”

Then there was Tom himself. You hadn’t seen him in person since Monday, but he’d been texting you random questions all week:

Do you prefer a casual or an elegant ambiance?

How many candles on a table is too many? Or do you think overhead lamps are better?

Oyster bars . . . yes/no?

You answered all of them with increasing bemusement, but any time you asked why he would mysteriously change the subject. You couldn’t help but feel like there was something you were missing here.

Finally, he sent you the name of the restaurant on Friday morning: Soul & Persona.

You’d never heard of it, so you decided to look it up. One glance at their website told you this place wasn’t like the casual restaurant-and-bars you and your friends usually frequented. This was fancy. Clicking over to the menu, you inhaled sharply at the prices written next to the items. Luckily, today was payday.

You arrived at the restaurant shortly before six. Another person was already standing outside, and as you got closer you realized it was Tom. Two things about that were already weird: one, he was normally notoriously late to everything; and two, he was holding a bouquet of roses in one hand that were so big they nearly obstructed his face.

He didn’t notice you approaching, busy frowning at something on his phone. “Hey,” you said at last, making him jump.  

“Oh! Hey!” He cleared his throat, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I mean—good evening.” He did a strange little bow before thrusting the flowers at you. “These are for you.”

“Wow,” you said, taking them carefully. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You look really nice.”

You were glad you researched the restaurant in advance, because the jeans and t-shirt combo you’d originally planned on wearing would definitely not have been appropriate here.

“So do you,” you said. He did: he was wearing slacks and a nice dress shirt under a jacket, his hair neatly combed.

“Thanks. Should we go in?” he asked. You nodded, and he hurried to open the door, ushering you inside. It was crowded, which made you a little worried. How long would the wait time be?

But Tom went right up to the hostess stand. “Hi,” he said, “we have a reservation for two at six; the name is Tom?”

She looked at her book and nodded. “You can follow me right this way.” She led you to a quiet corner of the restaurant and seated you at a table by the window. “Enjoy your meal.”

“Here,” Tom said, pulling your chair out before you could sit down. Again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“This place is crazy nice,” you said, looking around as the hostess placed a wine list on the table.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed, a little distractedly. “Um. So. Do you prefer to work in a team or alone?”

You blinked. “What? Where’d that come from?”

He shrugged, fidgeting with his collar like he was nervous. “I—I dunno. Just making conversation.”

“Oo-kay,” you said with a laugh. “Well, I haven’t seen you since you blessed my office with your presence on Monday. How was your week? Didn’t you have to give a presentation yesterday?”

“Yes, and one of the board members literally fell asleep during it,” Tom said, wrinkling his nose.

He seemed to loosen up after that, and the conversation flowed naturally from then on as you talked about your plans for the weekend, your friends, your families, and any other random thoughts that occurred to you.

For dinner you tried a pasta dish while Tom got steak, and you each had the soup of the day for an appetizer. Your knowledge of wine was limited to whatever was cheapest when you went to the liquor store, but Tom had apparently become an expert overnight: he asked the waiter all kinds of questions about their reds vs. their whites before finally ordering a bottle for the two of you to share.

All in all, it was an enjoyable dinner. You always had fun with Tom, of course, but you rarely got to spend time with just him. And though you normally stayed away from expensive places like this one, you had to admit the food was delicious and the ambiance made you feel very sophisticated.

“Can I get either of you some coffee or dessert?” the waiter asked as he cleared your plates. You’d never been one to say no to that, but Tom jumped in before you could open your mouth.

“No thank you,” he said quickly. “Just the check please.” Then he looked at you. “I thought maybe we could walk to that bookstore you like? The one with the bakery in it? We could—we could get dessert there and browse.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Cool.” He sounded relieved.

The waiter brought out the bill and Tom grabbed it as soon as he set it on the table. “What are you doing?” you protested. There was normally an agreement among your friends that everyone paid for their own meals when you went out to dinner.

“I’m paying,” he insisted, waving you off as you fruitlessly tried to put your own debit card down.

“At least let me Venmo you for my half.”

“Nope.”

“Tom!”

“Seriously, it’s fine.” He wouldn’t even let you see how much the meal cost.  

You could tell he wasn’t going to budge for whatever reason, so you had no choice but to relent. “If you’re sure,” you said, watching him smugly sign the receipt. You made sure to grab your flowers before you got up and followed him out of the restaurant.

The bookstore you liked was a few blocks away, but you didn’t mind the walk. The air was warm but balmy, refreshing on your face. “That was amazing,” Tom said.

“It was,” you agreed. “I’m convinced they put actual crack in that pasta sauce. It was otherworldly.”

He laughed before he asked, a little hesitantly, “So are you . . . having a nice time?”

You looked over at him questioningly. “Of course I am. But I always have a nice time with you.”

“Good,” he said quietly, nodding. “Good.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” Tom said immediately. “I just wanted to make sure. So, what are some of your pet peeves?”

“What is it with you and these questions?” Thankfully, you arrived at the bookstore and were spared from answering.

One of your favorite things about hanging out with Tom was that you didn’t necessarily need to be attached at the hip or in constant conversation in order to have fun. As soon as you entered he made a beeline for the True Crime section while you went to look at the new releases.

It was nice to just browse on your own for a while, and you ended up buying a book you’d been wanting to read ever since it came out. Tom was still perusing the shelves after you checked out, so you sneakily went up to the bakery counter and bought some dessert.

He found you sitting at a table in the cafe, reading your new book. “What’s this?” He gestured to the two pieces of cake and cups of decaf coffee on the table in front of you. “You should’ve let me pay!”

You’d been anticipating this, so you merely rolled your eyes. “Cry about it. You paid for dinner; it was the least I could do.”

“That’s not how this works,” Tom objected, but he reluctantly sat down and pulled his cake towards him anyway. The two of you discussed your books while you ate, and you tried not to act like you were eyeing his slice the entire time.

He noticed, of course. “You wanna try?”

You nodded sheepishly. You expected him to push the plate towards you, but instead he scooped a piece up onto his fork and held it out. “Here.” A little surprised, you opened your mouth and allowed him to feed it to you. For some reason it felt oddly intimate.

He was watching you expectantly as you chewed. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you managed to say, swallowing. “Really good.”

It was getting late and the store was closing soon, so you left after finishing your coffees. Usually this was when you’d call it a night and go home, but this time you felt no strong desire to. So when Tom started walking along the river instead of heading back towards the restaurant, you didn’t mind at all, falling into step beside him.

The night sky was clear, giving you a breathtaking view of dozens of stars. Hardly anyone else was around, and the river below was quiet and calm. It was like you were suspended in time. You couldn’t remember ever feeling so peaceful.

Tom’s hand bumped yours as you walked. You didn’t think anything of it at first, but then it happened again, and this time he laced his fingers through yours.

For some reason that was what made everything suddenly fall into place, for you to finally put two and two together and realize what was going on.

Oh my God.

“Tom,” you said hesitantly, shattering the comfortable silence between you.

“Yeah?”

“Is this . . . a date?”

He stopped walking, forcing you to do the same. Under the soft glow of the streetlights you could see he was staring at you. “Wait,” he said slowly. “This whole time . . . you didn’t know?”

Now that he’d basically just confirmed it, everything started to make sense: coming all the way to your office just to ask you to dinner, bringing you coffee, making reservations at a fancy restaurant, paying for the meal—

You were on a date and you hadn’t even realized.

“Oh, God,” was all you could say. You almost wanted to laugh, though nothing about this was even remotely funny. It was like you’d been hit over the head with a brick.

How could you not have known? It should’ve been obvious when he paid for the meal; no, when you realized you’d be eating at such a fancy place; no, when he showed up randomly on Monday, brought you coffee, and fucking asked you to dinner.

You both seemed to realize at the same time that you were still holding hands, and he quickly dropped it and stepped back. For the first time since you’d met, the air between the two of you was awkward. “I—I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.”

“I should’ve known,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m so stupid, I just didn’t think—” You didn’t finish your sentence. You honestly couldn’t figure out why you didn’t realize it sooner.

Because he’s your friend, a voice in the back of your head reminded you. He’s your friend and he’s never expressed any interest in you before, not like this.

That was true. You’d always thought Tom was handsome, and maybe early on in your friendship you’d fantasized about him once or twice. But he always treated you normally, never outwardly showing any sign of wanting more.  

“You’re not stupid,” he said immediately. “I should’ve made it more clear.”

“I’m just confused, I guess,” you said carefully. “I mean . . . why now? And why . . . me?”

He exhaled. “I overheard you the other day when you and Z were talking, and you were saying something like . . . you hadn’t been properly asked out and taken on a nice date in a while. So I guess I just wanted to do that for you. Make you happy.”

Your brain felt like it was short-circuiting. You didn’t know what to say to that, but he seemed to take your silence as a cue to keep going.

“That’s why I came to your office, to ask you in person instead of doing it over text or whatever. And I saw you looking at those flowers your coworker had, so I bought you some. And I picked this restaurant because it was nice but also because it was near the bookstore. And I memorized some first-date questions in case our conversation got boring, but I think that probably wasn’t necessary.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And now that I’m saying all of this I realize how weird it sounds. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly. His previous words were still echoing in your head. I guess I just wanted to do that for you. Make you happy.

He’d taken the time to think about all the things you liked and used that knowledge to plan the Perfect Date. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done something so kind, so thoughtful, so . . . romantic. Did this mean what you thought it meant?

Of course, the only way you were able to translate all of this was with, “Wow.”

But then he added, “And—and I didn’t do all of this because I thought it would lead to a second date or anything like that. I only—”

“Wait,” you interrupted, your stomach plummeting. This conversation was giving you whiplash. “So you . . . don’t like me?”

“Huh?”

“You did all of this . . . just because? You don’t actually want to go on a date with me?” Now you were more confused than ever, and a little hurt beneath that.

Tom’s eyes widened. “No! Well yes, but . . . no. Wait.” He took a deep breath. Now or never, right? “I do like you, but this was separate from all that. I only meant that I wasn’t expecting anything from this. I just wanted you to have a good time.”

You nodded slowly, exhaling. “Okay. So . . . what if I told you that I did have a good time, that I like you too, and I want go out with you again?”

Tom blinked at you owlishly for a second before his face split into a huge grin, one you were sure your own was mirroring. “Then . . . I’d say . . . same. To all of it.”

“Good,” you said, stepping closer. “In fact, I think this has almost been the perfect first date.”

He paused. “Wait, almost? What would make it perfect?” He furrowed his eyebrows, looking a little panicked. You laughed, reaching up and cupping his jaw.

“It has to end with a good-night kiss, doesn’t it?”

Tom relaxed, his hands finding their way to your waist. “Oh. Yes, you’re absolutely right.”

The two of you were still smiling as you kissed, and Tom lifted one of his hands to do a silent, sneaky fist-pump. 

Mission: success.