#everything costs so fucking much all the time and my god damn school is fucking with me rn

[orcelito]

Considering the. Ahem. Ways this year has gone, I've not been thinking about it all that much, but. I did start this year with the motto of Year Of Unfucking My Life. With a few goals involved in that.

I got an official adhd diagnosis, as well as a diagnosis for PCOS. Other diagnoses in progress. Gotten adhd meds and birth control to regulate periods. I've gone back to school and I'm keeping up with it better than ever before. I've even been working on practicing driving, something I've been largely neglecting since I first got my driving permit, um... 11 years ago...

I just need to actually Get my license. And I need to get it before the end of the year. If I can accomplish that, then I'll say the Year Of Unfucking My Life was successful.

[bandomgay]

I won't pay for it I can't stoop this low can't I can't let this happen (is thinking about letting it happen)

[onskepa]

Left behind: You promise?

Hellooooooooooo everyone! Now the story will really starts kicking! Hope you guys enjoy this one!

Left behind series

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Third pov

It was like looking at his own dead body. There he was. His twin brother, his other half, dead right before him. Jake found it a bit cruel, his brother studied hard to be in a position to go to another planet, to be with the big science guys. Only to be killed by a simple, pointless crime. 

He didn't want his little girl to see her dead uncle. It would break her heart. It was only a few days ago they all had a cup of coffee and luxury sweets called cookies, did Tommy break the news. That he would be leaving Earth for the ideal planet called pandora. To make connections with life over there. 

It was a bittersweet goodbye since the travel to pandora is 5 years. 

It was best to not tell his little girl that her super smart uncle is dead. Best that she believes he left to space.

Third pov

“I'm sorry, WHAT?” 

“The RDA wants you to take your brother's place and continue what he couldn't even start”

Jake was at a loss. He needed to mourn for his loss but the officials couldnt even give him 5 fucking minutes. 

“The RDA wants me, a crippled ex-marine, to join them? What use would I be to them?” Jake asks, feeling a bit pissed off by the second. 

“More than you know. You see Mr. Sully, your brother was going to join the Avatar program, it is a section of the RDA where scientists use a body that looks like the pandorian natives. Those bodies costs billions of dollars to make. And not being used is a huge waste” one of the officials said, almost in a robotic way. 

“So?” Jake shrugs. 

“You have a 100% accurate DNA of your brothers avatar, they want you to join in the program and do the mission that was given to tommy” 

Jake scoffs. Slamming his fists against the table. 

“You want me to leave this place, leave my kid behind. Mind you, just to get to that planet takes 5 years! 5 years of me being gone away from my kid! The hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted. Jake was ready to leave them and just get back to his home, back to his daughter. 

The two officials looked at each other, having a silent conversation in their eyes. 

“Mr. Sully, I don't think you are in a position to reject this” 

“Oh, why the fuck not?” Jake tilts his head, almost ready to laugh out of his insanity. 

“We know you are financially unstable. Barely scraping by, making a clown of yourself in low cheap bars. Can't even give a good education for your kid. Jake, you are at the bottom of the trash, and even with your useless legs, you can't crawl up. But hear this. If you join the RDA, your daughter will be given the best education we can give her. All employees who work for the RDA, if they have kids, are given the utmost care. School, shelter, a chance in life” 

It was like a spell. 

The more those bastards talk, the more tempting it sounds to jake. 

His kid getting everything he can't provide? School? A warm bed? 

“But…..it's 5 years……10 years to and from…thats….that's too much I would be missing so many years of my kid…” Jake says rather weakly. 

“Oh jake….many parents make the biggest sacrifice to give their kid a better tomorrow. If you truly care for your kid, you leave her behind”  

Jake’s pov

“You are leaving…?” Her voice was weak. 

God damn it this is going to be a lot harder than I thought. 

I accepted the Devil’s offer. I will take my brother's place in exchange for my daughter having a better future. Sad to think it might not have me involved. But there is still time, she is still a baby. By the time I returned she might be a moody teen but still a kid. 

“You are not staying with me daddy?” my little angel asks. Her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes reflecting mine. 

“It won't be forever, baby, just for a little while. Uncle tommy needs my help” 

It took everything for my voice to not shake, my girl is a smart kid, she will sense my heart breaking. 

She crawled on my lap, her little face eager. “I wanna go with you!” she whines. Shaking my head I had to explain to her. 

“I'm sorry baby, but where I am going, kids are not allowed. Too dangerous. Its safe you stay here”. 

“With Miss Morve?” she questions. God I wish. 

“No, Misses Morve is too weak, you will be going to a school that will take good care of you. Doesnt that sound nice? You get to go to school like you always wanted. Make friends and eat all the yummy foods we see on the holograms. Doesn't that sound great?” I do my best to make it sound good. 

But stubbornly, she shakes her head. 

“It's not great! You won't be here! I wanna stay with you! You said it daddy! Sullys stick together!” 

My little girl started to cry her little heart out, and I followed. Hugging her really tight, we cried for a bit. 

“Don't leave me daddy!” she wails out. 

“I won't baby, I will always be with you. It will just be for a little while. It may feel like forever, but I will come back. I promise love” I tried to reassure her. 

Feeling her pull back a bit, I can see her eyes puffy red, tears still flowing out. God, seeing her cry makes my heart ache. My little angel does hold my heart in her hands. 

“You promise?” she asks, holding out her pinky finger. 

I intertwined my pinky finger. 

“I promise. No matter what baby girl, I will come back. Sullys stick together” 

Third pov 

Handing the handlers his child’s only luggage, Jake gives his daughter one last hug. But this hug will be the last for who knows how long. 

Jake’s little girl was crying her soul, not read to really let go at all. Wanting to be with her dad forever and ever. 

“Don't leave me please!!” she begs. This was really hard for Jake. Hard for both of them. And it took jake everything in him to not change his mind. To say no to the RDA, to take back his child and go back home. But this was for her. This was for the little sully girl. To give her everything she could ever want, it required the biggest sacrifice. And that was letting go. 

“I'm not leaving you. I will come back, I promise with my life babygirl” jake says. Giving her so many kisses. 

Sniffling away her tears, his little princess leaps up to give Jake a kiss on the cheek. 

“Be good, ok? Make friends, study hard, and before you know I am back for you” 

But little Sully was still scared. 

“You won't forget about me?” she asks, wanting to make sure her dad won't forget. 

“I could never forget you. My angel, my sunshine in the rain, my little princess "Jake praises. 

Wiping away her tears, his little girl takes a deep breathe. “You promised daddy. Sullys stick together…” she says, her voice shaking. 

“Sullys stick together, forever” 

Third pov 

“And there they go! Off to the beautiful planet Pandora '' the teacher says as she shows to her class the live recording of the RDA employees in the transportation ship leaving the Earth's atmosphere. 

Among the astonished woas of the little ones, little sully was watching the ship with her careful eyes. A small tear leaving her eye. There goes her daddy. But he will come back. He promised. So, if she is a good girl and does everything, her daddy will come back for her. 

He promised. 

Right?

I am so pleased with how it turned out! Tell me what you think! Until next time! See ya!

Like the story? Put your name on the taglist for the next update!

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Taglist:

@boobitchhehe @heart-an0n @justcaptiannoodles @mochacoffeeumai26 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @skittlebum @teyamsbitch @ratchetprime211 @iwannabeapinkaesthetic

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

PT. 7

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: no set date.

WC: 2734

Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

Recap:

Now that your ex has retrieved his belongings, you're on a tight deadline to get everything packed by the end of the day. You have to move out tonight, especially since you're starting at a new school tomorrow. Plus, moving everything out today will make it much easier to settle into your new room before school starts. And, it's a good way to pass the time until 6:40 PM tonight, when you plan to head to the park.... Tonight will be the moment of truth to see if he decides to show up. You're overwhelmed with the need to apologize for your silence all week and for turning down his invitations to hang out. And then there's the mess with your ex, which just adds to the chaos. You really want to explain to him that your ex was only there to pick up his stuff before you move, but it's hard to make him understand when you hadn't even mentioned your plans to move to begin with.

It just feels like everything is just spiralling out of control…

MEGUMIS POV:

The phone sits there, taunting me with its silent demand for attention. My fingers itch to reach for it, to answer her call, but I know I can't. It's a battle of wills, and I'm fighting against myself. If I give in, I'll only end up forgiving her too easily, forgetting all about her with her ex.

 But it's so damn hard. 

She's always on my mind, her smile a reminder of genuine warmth that lingers in my thoughts. Her eyes, deep and honest, draw me in with every glance, revealing layers of her soul I can't resist. And her scent... her perfume, it's like a gentle embrace, comforting and alluring, even when she's not around. Every moment with her is like poetry in motion, each touch, each word, sparking a fire of longing within me. She's more than just a person; she's a feeling, an intoxicating presence that I can't shake.

She's a masterpiece in every sense, utterly captivating and impossible to overlook. Despite the simmering anger within me, my deepest longing is to have her close, to revel in the comfort of her embrace. Yet, I restrain myself. I can't muster the strength to answer the phone, to engage with her messages. Not now. At Least not yet….

I glance over at my phone and catch her last message: meet her at the park at 7.

Damn, she makes it so hard to resist.

 7 PM…..

The park across from my place. She'll explain what happened. Maybe it wasn't as serious as it seemed... Maybe he just showed up? Knocking at her door, threatening her. Damn it. If that's the case, what the hell is wrong with me? How could I be so blind? What if he intended to harm her, and I just walked away, leaving her alone? Is she okay? The amount of messages she sent suggests she is, but still... How could I be so reckless? What if she got hurt? I would never forgive myself. Never.

Fuck!

I have to go…. I have to make sure she's okay, to reassure myself that my fears are unfounded. And if she needs me, I'll be there, no matter what.

I glance at the time: 6:55 PM.

God damn it... 

I won't make it back in time, at least not for another 10 minutes or so. With a heavy heart and a sense of urgency, I gather my thoughts and hit the gas, pushing the limits to get home as quickly as possible, determined to find her and ensure her safety, no matter the cost.

I'll just call her and let her know I'm on my way and that I'll be a little late. As I pick up my phone and dial her number, it goes straight to voicemail twice. Is she ignoring me? No, she wouldn't... Why would she? Maybe her phone's dead? Or maybe she turned it off? I have to get to her as fast as I can.

But as I arrive, the park is deserted, and she's nowhere to be seen. Dread washes over me, realizing I'm 15 minutes late. Did she give up on me? Did she think I wouldn't come? Panic sets in as I frantically search, hoping against hope that she's still here, waiting for me…

But she's not. She's gone. And the weight of that realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

I pick up my phone again, desperate, and dial her number once more. But it goes straight to voicemail again.

"Please, angel... pick up," I whisper into the void, my voice strained with worry.

But there's no answer. Just silence. And in that silence, my fears grow stronger, gnawing at my heart with a relentless grip.

YOUR POV

You arrived at the park five minutes early, hoping against hope that Megumi would show up on time.

6:55 PM.

Anxiety courses through your veins, the uncertainty of his reaction weighing heavily on your mind. Would he even show up? Or would he take your explanation poorly, not believing a word you'd say, and then leave you? Both outcomes are equally terrifying, but you can't shake the feeling that Megumi not showing up might be slightly worse. It would mean he wants nothing to do with you, and you wouldn't even have the chance to explain what actually happened. The guilt would eat away at you.

You've turned your phone off, ensuring that when he arrives, if he does, you won't be interrupted. Your focus would be solely on him.

7:00 PM.

You sit there, waiting, scanning the park for any sign of him. Each person who approaches, you hope it's him, but it never is. With every passing moment, your thoughts spiral further. Was he ever going to show up? Did something happen? Or does he just not want you anymore?

7:10 PM.

You give him an extra ten minutes, clinging to the hope that maybe he's running late. But as the minutes tick by, hope fades into disappointment. He's not coming. He didn't come. What's the point in waiting any longer? Even if he did show up, would you be angry? Upset? Feeling unimportant because of his lateness? Maybe he forgot or didn't see your message? You try to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it's hard. Trust is a fragile thing, especially after what you went through with your ex.

You stand from the bench, tears threatening to spill, but you hold them back as best as you can. The emotions swirl within you—sadness, disappointment, frustration. You start to walk away, making your way back home. You've already packed everything after kicking out your ex, so all that's left to do is go back. The movers said they'd be there by 8 PM to gather your things and take them to your new place.

At 9:40 PM, over an hour has passed since you finally moved into your new place. With the help of your friends, unpacking was a breeze, and it felt surprisingly good to be living with them. As you make your way to your room, you're pleasantly surprised to find it larger than expected. Thank goodness for Toge's spacious house, where even the rooms are sizable. And having your own bathroom? That's a luxury you definitely appreciate.

You take a moment to survey the space, considering how to arrange your belongings. With a generous window offering a view of the expansive backyard—complete with lush green grass, towering trees, and a sparkling pool—you decide to position your bed beside it. It's the perfect spot to gaze at your favorite view, especially with the moon casting its gentle glow outside.

Setting up your room with your friends was a joyous experience, making the whole moving process feel more fun and exciting. As you begin to organize, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment and anticipation for the adventures that await in your new home.

You call out to Maki, asking for her help in setting up your gaming equipment in the corner.

"Yep! Is your PC in this box?" she asks, pointing at the one labeled "fragile."

"Yes, ma'am!" you confirm with a smile.

Turning to Toge and Yuta, you assign them the task of mounting your TV on the wall across from your bed.

“Yes ma’am! You got it!” Toge says, in his usual playful manner, as he salutes. 

“You’re so stupid” You say while slapping your forehead. 

Laughter fills the room, easing the tension that's been weighing on you all day. You don't realize how late it's gotten until you finally check the clock: 12:12 AM.

With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you thank your friends for their help. However, beneath the surface, the lingering disappointment of Megumi's absence still weighs heavily on your mind. Though you try to push it aside, your friends can sense that something's bothering you.

"Thank you guys so much for helping me. I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time!" you apologize.

"You know you don't have to thank us... We're always going to be here for you!" Maki reassures you.

"I could've been playing Fortnite, so she does have to apologize for taking up my precious time," Toge interjects jokingly, prompting laughter from everyone.

"Sorry, Toge, didn't know Fortnite was more important," you tease back, rolling your eyes.

"Just kidding, obviously you're more important!!!" Toge replies with a smirk, in a sarcastic tone, though what he said is true... you definitely are more important.

"Wow, screw you," you playfully retort, sticking out your tongue and your middle finger as you all continue to laugh.

"How are you feeling now that you're officially moved out?" Yuta sweetly asks.

"Honestly, I feel happy and comfortable. I love being with you guys, and now that we all live together, it's going to be so fun. And I'm going to the same school as you all! Speaking of which, we should probably head to sleep... It's almost 12:30, and we have to wake up at 7 AM," you say, a hint of tiredness creeping into your tone.

"That's good, and we're happy you're with us too! Goodnight, Y/N," Yuta replies with a smile before hugging you and then heading towards the door.

"Finally, I can play Fortnite," Toge jokes before noticing you picking up a pillow.

"Y/N! I was kidding! I WAS KIDDING!" Toge exclaims, darting out of your room as you chase after him, pillow in hand.

The chase leads you both around the house. As you enter the kitchen, Toge quickly runs on one side of the counter, putting distance between you. Determined to catch him, you move to your left, but he mirrors your movements, keeping just out of reach.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Toge grins and taunts you from across the counter, knowing he's outmanoeuvred you for now. But you're not one to give up easily, and with a playful smirk, you prepare to outsmart him in this game. 

“Y/N IM SORRY! I SAID I WAS KIDDING PLEASE SPARE MY LIFE!!!! I BEGGGG” he yells out. 

“NOT UNTIL YOU APOLOGIZED AND SAY IM YOUR BEST FRIEND AND YOU LOVE ME.” you yell back teasing him. 

“NO NEVER!” he runs past you and you chase him back up the stairs but you corner him before he could get to his room.

“IM SO SORRY QUEEN Y/N MY BESTEST OF BEST FRIEND I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH!” he says in fear. 

“Love you too bestie!! goodnight!” You smile innocently and make your way to your room.

“she's fucking crazy....” he mumbled to himself as he gets back up.

“mmm? what was that?” you say turning back towards him. 

“Uhh... N-NOTHING!!! HAHA… NOTHING AT ALL” With a nervous chuckle, Toge swiftly opens the door to his room, slipping inside and securing the lock behind him.

Maki, witnessing the entire exchange, approaches you with a smile to say goodnight. But before she leaves, she asks about Megumi.

Your surprise is evident, but you can't bring yourself to lie to your best friend. 

"It's... kinda bad right now. We're not really talking," you admit.

"What? What the hell happened?" Maki responds, shocked.

"He saw my ex at my house today. He was only there to grab his stuff, but then Megumi showed up around the same time, and my ex lied to him... I didn't know he was there until it was too late," you explain with a sigh.

"Why didn't you just call him and explain?" Maki inquires.

"I tried, but he didn't answer at all. I even texted him to meet me at the park across from his house at 7 PM to explain everything, and if he didn't show up, I'd just assume he didn't want to be friends anymore or have any type of relationship."

"And...?" Maki prompts, sensing your hesitation.

"He didn't show up," you admit, feeling your heart drop.

"What the hell? Why wouldn't he show up? That guy is literally obsessed with you," Maki says, clearly bewildered.

"Stop..." you respond, feeling annoyed.

"Stop what?" Maki asks, confused.

"Stop saying shit that isn't true, you really don't need to lie about that." you say, your frustration bubbling up.

"What do you mean?! I've known Megumi since he was a kid, y/n.. He's never been like this, not once with a girl before. Every girl that's ever tried talking to him, he wouldn't even notice or care to at least. He puts no effort in at all. Why do you think when we saw him with you on the couch together, we were extremely shocked. He barely gets near a girl, so the fact that he let you lean on him AND hold your hand shows that he likes you. Like, a lot," Maki explains, her words hitting you hard.

"We're just friends... that's all. And it's normal," you respond weakly, trying to dismiss her observations.

"Maybe normal for you, but definitely not for Megumi. He barely talks to girls, let alone looks in their direction. Seriously, Y/N, you'd have to be blind or stupid to not see that he obviously has feelings for you," Maki concludes, her annoyance evident.

You fall silent, feeling conflicted by her words as she leaves you to ponder the truth of her observations.

"Goodnight, Maki," you respond, your tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. Despite her insistence, you can't shake the feeling that what she's telling you isn't entirely true, convinced that Megumi sees you only as a friend.

"Y/N—" Maki starts, but you cut her off, retreating back into your room and heading straight for bed. Without wasting a moment, Maki quickly pulls out her phone and sends a message to Nobara.

7AM

As your alarm blares, announcing the start of your first day at a new school, a rush of nerves and excitement courses through you. But, having your friends by your side brings a warm sense of familiarity that soothes the uncertainties of the day ahead.

Last night was rough. You couldn't sleep good as thoughts of Megumi consumed your mind, denying you any peace. Despite knowing it's time to move forward, his memory persists, a constant companion in your thoughts. It's tough to shake off the memory of someone who felt so right, even when things didn't quite align.

The second alarm that goes off snaps you out of your thoughts, prompting you to get moving. With a sigh, you drag yourself out of bed and start getting ready for the day.

Arriving at the school, you feel a mix of excitement and anxiety as you head to the office to pick up your schedule. Despite the last-minute transfer, you're relieved that they've welcomed you, easing some of the nerves about starting anew.

You rush up the stairs of the school, the realization that you're running late sets in. Panic starts to rise as you frantically search for your classroom, the maze-like layout of the school making it difficult to navigate.

"Where the hell is this stupid class?" you mutter under your breath, frustration mounting with each passing second.

With your mind solely focused on finding your class, you fail to notice the person standing directly in your path. Before you can react, you run right into them, the impact jolting you back to reality.

Stumbling backward, he reaches out to steady you, his hands gently settling on your waist, you look up to apologize, only to freeze in shock as you lock eyes with the person before you.

"Megumi?" you blurt out, unable to hide your surprise as you take in his familiar features and all-black attire.

His expression remains impassive at first, but as his gaze meets yours, recognition flashes in his eyes.

"Y/n…?"

omg omg omg omg omg

finally finished this part... took longer than expected... sorry for the long wait

i rly appreciate ur guys patience <3

this part was kindaaa boring but i promise next one will get more interesting teehee

TAGLIST <3

@lavender-hvze @xbarrjallenx @atinymonbebestay @1l-ynn @chilichopsticks @dr-fluff-meow @lost-resonance @maya-maya-56 @ichorstainedskin @luciiferslover @madaqueue @vanitywoo

[garset-grocery]

I don’t usually make vent posts like this but I need to scream into the void about this right now and my friends don’t want to hear it anymore.

Tomorrow I have a doctor’s appointment about an hour’s drive away. Unfortunately, I don’t have a car because I just paid for school and insurance would tear me apart.

Outside my building is a train track that goes right up to the edge of the property. It’s hidden by a fence, but every time a train goes past it’s like a continuous rolling clap of thunder that you feel in your inner ear. Naturally, one would assume that there would be a train station in town. One would be dead wrong. There isn’t a train station for miles in any direction, and the only way in and out of town is through the highway.

Looking up bus routes on google maps shows me several with the same rough timing: SEVEN HOURS. Somehow, taking the bus is more time than it would take to bike all the way there (six hours). Even with all the stops a bus makes, you would assume that once it got on the highway there wouldn’t be much of a difference. But if it takes me FOURTEEN HOURS to see the only doctor that does HRT nearby, then that’s simply not viable. I have free time, but not that much. Not that much.

Of course, I could take an Uber. At this point it seems like the best option. Pay hundreds of dollars for a drive that would normally cost <$100 for gas, while stranding a complete stranger in an entirely different town. An Uber driver once told me that if they drove out of a certain area, they would have to drive all the way back to it before they could pick up more riders, which wastes their time and their money. If I order an Uber, I’m asking two separate strangers to make a two hour round trip drive in which they’re only allowed one rider at a time. Just an absolute dogshit thing to do to another person.

I live in Ontario, which is supposed to be Canada’s number one industrial powerhouse. We have the highest population of any province in the country, mostly in one dense area along the US border. Every year the government spends millions of dollars to maintain the roads and highways connecting all these places. And not one, NOT ONE train station in my whole fucking town? You’re telling me there’s enough money for the roads and highways and all the streetlights and fuel for transport trucks and construction. But it’s just not in the budget to lay down some fucking tracks and make commuting without a car fast and affordable? Really?

I guess if everyone just buys a car then that’s good for oil companies and insurance companies and car companies and… you know, all the people that get rich off covering everything in pavement and waiting for people to die. But for people like me who don’t have a car and need to get somewhere an hour away? Well, I guess we can just go fuck ourselves. It’s our fault for not having enough money to buy our own personal 3000 pound death machine.

Look. I get it. People like driving their little metal boxes around. It’s fun. Whatever. But human beings have been laying railroads (not like that) for literally hundreds of years. The industry my country loves so much was built on railroads. We KNOW that trains work, we KNOW that they’re fast and easy and they get people places on time, and we KNOW that they can transport WAY more people than a highway while taking up way less space. SO WHY THE FUCK IS THERE NO TRAIN STATION IN MY TOWN. WHY IS THE ROAD THE ONLY OPTION. WHY AM I STUCK USING BUSES AND RIDESHARING AND SHITTY HALF-MEASURES TO GET AROUND THIS OBVIOUS GAPING HOLE IN OUR PROVINCE’S AWFUL INFRASTRUCTURE. STOP ADDING MORE LANES TO THE GOD DAMN HIGHWAYS AND GIVE US A WORKING TRANSIT SYSTEM. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

[alatismeni-theitsa]

Hyper specific complaint here, hi :3

I really don't know if anyone would understand half of what I was saying if it was any other blog but θείτσα μ here have me bear my soul to you I think you'll at least find it entertaining to read?

Maybe I'm biased or was always choosing the wrong genre but as a Greek Kid reading Greek Books in my childhood I was always so disappointed to see the trope "there's no Treasure, the Treasure was the Friends We Made Along The Way :)" because that's just such a cheap cheat on an ending of an adventure genre book

Like as I kid I had personal beef with it. Like, why did authors have to back out on us. Like, "oh yeah y'all went on a three month summer adventure collecting clues and deciphering secret messages but there's no gold at the end of the trail because it's not realistic" FUCK REALISM I WANT TO BE REWARDED FOR MY EMOTIONAL INVESTMENT

And if it was one book it'd be fine BUT THIS TROPE PERSONALLY PLAGUED ME IT WAS EVERYWHERE does anybody have this specific experience or am I losing my mind.

Two titles that come to mind just cause I'm still salty about it are SPOILER ALERT Ο Θησαυρός του Ταϋγέτου and Στο Μυστρά Με Πανσέληνο (has anyone else read those?). Don't get me wrong I don't hate the books. Actually I do love them since I still remember the title and plot since I first read them, it's just... I'd just like to burn them in the τζάκι for leaving me hanging like this. Just mildly salty about it. :/

AND THEN ONE DAY

At some point στο δημοτικό I found a book series (πρέπει να ήταν μεταφρασμένη λογοτεχνία) στην δανειστική βιβλιοθήκη του ΚΔΑΠ που πήγαινα τότε that was the same group of friends (with a few new characters sometimes) going on adventures and unintentionally always falling into life changing adventures. Like I think I vividly remember a dialogue that went like "Oh, this summer let's go somewhere that we won't get involved in a great adventure for a change" and then me laughing because guess what they did. They went in a great adventure (again) and found treasure (again) and holy shit I love this book series. Might be inaccurate because it's been a long time since I last held them but who cares it's the memory that counts.

And it's been haunting me bc I don't remember the title AND I ADORE THESE BOOKS I remembered it randomly and it feels like I've lost part of myself :((((((

...

Thank god I didn't send the ask off immediately after writing it and my last three braincells came together for a miracle.

(Quick note: Moms remember everything and I made the wise decision Να Ρωτήσω Τη Μαμά.... ΚΑΙ ΞΕΡΕΤΕ ΤΙ)

WE REMEMBERED THE TITLE

THE BOOK SERIES WAS CALLED ΟΙ ΠΕΝΤΕ ΦΙΛΟΙ / THE FAMOUS FIVE (i think)

WATCH ME BUY EVERY SINGLE BOOK IN ONE GO AND RECONNECTING WITH A HOLY PART OF MY CHILDHOOD COSTS BE DAMNED

I'M SMILING SO HARD RN OMG IT'S MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE SERIES EVER WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK I CAN HAVE IT AGAIN HOLY SHIT SORRY FOR CURSING SO MUCH BUT I'M SO HAPPY

(This is not a complaint ask anymore as I originally intended it to be but hey sometimes a tiny detail in your life changes while writing something and now you're x100000000 happier this has been a miracle here have it)

Γεια!! Sorry for answering this late, but it's because my inbox is often full.

"there's no Treasure, the Treasure was the Friends We Made Along The Way :)" Oooh my gosh, this is my most behated trope of all time! Just give me the promised treasure, damn it! You can also give me the additional gift of friendship as a surprise but pleaase just give me what you promised in the beginning!

My other issue is that the search for the treasure - which is what attracts you to the book as a kid - is like... 5% of the book, and then it all gets resolved in five minutes in the end. I don't want to hear about the random uncle and the school problems of one's sister. I want the treasure!!! I think such a book for me was Ο θησαυρός της Βαγίας (The Treasure of Vaghia) because I still remember the disappointment.

For some reason I never read Οι πέντε φίλοι but the title was always there, in the Κινητη Βιβλιοθηκη :) Buy them and enjoy them all over again!

[malicemismanager]

I'm about to complain into the void. Feel free to skip this one peeps, I'm just having Feelings and I got nowhere else to put them.

I'm more and more considering just giving up on my business. It's just really hard to not see it as a waste of time when I don't sell anything except for one weekend out of the year, and this con I didn't even sell enough to get back the cost of the booth. Add to that that I haven't had the motivation to make anything in months because of that last fact, and it just. It's really not doing great things for my mental health, y'know?

And like on the other hand it feels really dumb to complain about this, cuz like. I make jewellery. Hardly a vital service. And with everything that's going on in the world, no shit I'm not gonna be selling anything. And ultimately it's my own damn fault for tying so much of my well being into this mess, but on the other other hand, what else am I gonna do? I'm a disabled high school drop-out with ADHD and social anxiety and no reliable transportation. Not exactly "normal" job material.

I dunno where I'm going with this honestly. I just wish I didn't feel so gods damned pointless. I know that's in no small part the depression talking, but that's not all it is and I just don't know what to do about it cuz it's all out of my control. My job used to bring me so much joy, and I hate that all this stress has taken that from me. But what the fuck am I supposed to do about it? How do I even begin to fix this when I don't know what I did wrong in the first place?

I'm trying really hard to get excited about next year's con and be optimistic about it, but I've never been good at optimism and I feel like I've got a pretty good reason not to be at this point. I don't know. I'm sliding pretty fast into apathy and that scares me a little bit cuz I know how hard it is to get out once I get there, but I don't know how to stop. I'm just desperately holding onto anything that brings me even the tiniest bit of joy and hoping to gods that it's enough to keep me afloat.

[baiheyurisolidarity]

Like, it really did feel like I did all the right things, or at least tried my best to. I was one of the non disabled people that understood at least to some degree that this shit could happen to anybody. Last semester I literally only forgot to wear a mask once and I don't even think I got covid from that time. I got covid literally fucking twice in two months.

The first time because my little siblings' dumbass school that I basically used to go to had a big pre as in before school starts assembly literally knowing there was a covid outbreak and the administration not fucking saying anything because they "didn't want people to worry" like they were fucking politicians or some shit. I literally hope that administrator who decided that dies.

The second time I don't know where the fuck I got it from but it was even worse and almost just after I like 95% recovered at least and I think it was one of the newer strains that was dodging the outdated vaccines at the time, and my unlucky ass just so happened to get the shit less than a month before I got the vaccine for it. Literally just kill me, and the worst part is that the vaccine for it was out a little before I got it but I wasn't in a rush to get it in part due to worry about how much it would cost (though I was still going to anyway).

So yeah, that's why I might be permanently disabled now. Didn't get a vaccine like a month sooner than I did. Literally wore masks everyday unlike literally everyone else in my classes and hardly anyone that I'm aware of got covid and as far as I'm aware no one got any long or post covid shit either. Literally did almost everything right. Not perfect, but close enough to make me want to go joker mode at everything about this fuckass country and its fuckass dumbass people. Obviously there's nothing I can actually do about it but cry on occassion because my body hurts so damn much but it's just so fucking bullshit man. It'd be one thing if I was stupid, but I feel like the only one around me not being fucking stupid about covid and getting the worst consequences for it. That's the real life isn't fair shit right there. There is no god or karma or any other stupid religion saying good people get good stuff bad people get bad stuff at least eventually bullshit. Religious and spiritual ethics and morality is all just fucking cope. Ain't no fucking heaven past this shit.

Honestly this whole post covid disability thing has been making me understand something I already understood on a more personal level, that is when the elderly give out on living and just kind of stop putting in the effort to breathe. Only the difference here is that there's no "full life" going on whatever that means and a lot more misery thinking life even if lived is going to be like this for the rest of it. Like fuck man, I almost wish it was bad enough to where it'd be easy to just tap out on life but this fuckass pain is miserable but not deadly enough at the moment miserable. Can't emphasize how ass this is. Any solution is only going to cost money even if there is one.

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Father of Mine – 1/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is. 

Word Count: 4,000+

Warnings: Family death, cancer, absent father, cremation 

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t. 

“Do you want to say anything before we…” the operator asked her.

“No,” Y/N answered quickly.

“Oh, my assistant forgot to give you this,” the operator gave her a shy smile as he handed her a small cardboard box.

She opened it to find all of her mother’s jewelry that had been on her body at the funeral.

“Thank you,” Y/N told him.

“Ready?” The operator asked.

He had been so kind throughout the whole process. It was obvious he was used to people breaking down and being extremely emotional. 

But Y/N had been stoic, almost concerningly so. 

Though he wasn’t one to judge. Everyone grieved differently.

With the pull of a handle, Y/N watched her mother’s body going into the chamber.

“It will be a few hours,” the operator told her.

He meant it will it will take a few hours for her mother’s body to burn to ash. Then they would hand her a tacky vase with her remains.

Y/N just nodded. “I’ll go for a walk.”

As soon as she was outside, Y/N called her mother’s executor.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I was just about to call you.”

“I’m at the crematory,” she told him. “I figured we should discuss the bills that still need to be paid for.”

“Yes, of course. As I mentioned to you before, your mother’s life insurance covers quite a lot of it…” his words died out.

“But it’s still not enough,” Y/N finished for him. “I’ll get the money.”

She wasn’t exactly rich, but she also wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck. But people never realized how much money it cost for loved ones to die. It was honestly ridiculous.

“You might want to consider taking out a loan,” he tried to suggest gently.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Another thing, Ms. Y/L/N. There was an envelope with a name on it. And your mother left instructions on delivering the envelope to them.”

She stopped her pacing. 

“What name is on the envelope?” Y/N asked.

There was a pause.

“Bruce Wayne.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed.

Of course she knew who Bruce Wayne was – everyone in Gotham did, as well as most of the country. He was a billionaire playboy, only making headlines when he was a mess. But every once in awhile his philanthropy would sneak in there. Y/N always assumed those were only to help recover his image and not because he was a good person.

“You still there?” The executor asked.

“Yeah. I’m just a bit confused. But please pass it along to him, if that’s what my mom wanted.”

“I can’t. The instructions specifically say for you to deliver the envelop to him in person.”

“In person?” Y/N groaned in annoyance as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Why did all of this have to be so god damn complicated?

“Yes. Her instructions are…oddly specific."

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll pick up everything from your office before the work day ends.”

——————

Y/N stared at the envelop that she’d tossed on her coffee table as she sipped a rather large glass of red wine.

She was wracking her brain trying to think of a time when her mom mentioned knowing Bruce Wayne. But Y/N would’ve remembered her mom saying his name – even in passing. It’s not a name that one can drop casually.

Y/N pulled up her phone and googled him. But she looked at his history. Yes, he was from Gotham, as was her mom, but so were 10 million other people.

But then Y/N’s scrolling paused when she realized they went to the same high school: Gotham Academy. Not only that, they graduated in the same year.

‘Were they friends?’ Y/N wondered.

But just classmates or friends still didn’t seem to warrant a handwritten letter to be delivered after one’s death.

Y/N didn’t open the envelope.

Her mother’s instructions specifically told her not to. And if she put in that much of an effort to get this done after her death, Y/N wasn’t going to ignore such a request.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious.

“Fuck,” Y/N sighed before throwing back the rest of her wine.

——————

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t grant you access to the building without your name being in the system by the company you’re visiting,” the building receptionist told her for the third time.

“I understand. But I called his office 30 fucking times and they refuse to put me through to him or get me an appointment,” Y/N practically growled.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I already called their office to say you were here and they didn’t recognize your name. I can’t let you through to the elevators.”

Y/N’s gaze flickered to the security guard who stood a few feet away. He was eyeing her now that there was clearly an argument going on.

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes. She had a good foot on him – even without her heels on. And he looked like he couldn’t run a 50 yard dash without passing out or vomiting. If he thought he was going to physically stop her, he had another thing coming.

“Listen, I am not some crazy fucking stalker. My mom knew Bruce Wayne and in her will she asked me to deliver this to him,” Y/N’s voice lowered and became disturbingly calm. “I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want to have this conversation.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down,” the security guard finally stepped forward.

“Oh, fuck off,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the rent-a-cop.

“Ma’am, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” he continued.

“Call me ma’am one more fucking time…” Y/N growled.

But the security guard was taking a step to her.

“Excuse me. What seems to be the problem here?” A voice suddenly interrupted.

Everyone turned to see a young man – younger than Y/N – glaring at the security guard just as he was about to grab Y/N.

“M-Mr. Drake, we were just escorting this young woman from the premises,” the guard stuttered out.

Everyone at the building knew every member of the Wayne family. But unlike his siblings, Tim Drake was at the office almost every day. As one should be when they’re the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company.

“For what reason?” Tim Drake asked.

“She insists on seeing Mr. Wayne. But she doesn’t have an appointment. For security reasons, I cannot let her through, obviously, unless the company she is visiting has put her into their system and the building’s system,” the receptionist explained nervously.

Y/N frowned as if she was bored of the whole thing.

Tim stepped forward. “May I ask what your business with Bruce Wayne is?”

Now that he was closer, Y/N noticed how exhausted he looked. He was handsome still, of course. But she wondered when he last got a good night’s sleep. He was shorter than her, probably standing at 5’5. And she still believed he was younger than her, which was wild seeing as he was already the CEO and couldn’t be older than 24.

Y/N sighed before she grabbed the envelope from her black leather satchel, and showed that Bruce Wayne’s name was handwritten on it.

“My mother wished me to personally deliver this to him.”

Tim tilted his head slightly. “Why isn’t she doing it?”

“Because she’s dead,” she shot back without emotion.

But Tim’s face became sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I should’ve assumed…”

“It’s fine,” Y/N quickly cut him off before he could continue.

She was so tired of being on the receiving end of people’s sympathy. It didn’t help. And the words stopped holding any meaning to her.

“But I’m sorry. Bruce isn’t in today. And he probably won’t be coming to the office for the rest of the week.”

“Oh,” was all she responded with.

Of course Bruce Wayne didn’t come to work. Why would he?

This was a stupid idea. And now she had made a scene because of it.

“But if you give me your information, I will personally let him know that you are trying to reach him.”

“Really?” Y/N asked in shock.

Tim smiled at her surprise. “Of course.”

“Here’s my card,” she quickly grabbed one from her wallet and then a pen. “All my info is on that.” She wrote something on the back. “And that’s my mom’s name.”

He took it from her and nodded. “What was your mother’s relationship with Bruce?”

Y/N shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been trying to figure it out. Apparently they graduated in the same high school class. But that’s all I was able to find.”

He nodded.

“Thank you…Mr. Drake. For your help. Really,” she urged.

“Please, it’s just Tim.” Then he glared at the receptionist and security guard. “For you it is, at least.”

“Thank you again,” Y/N felt like saying it 30 more times still wouldn’t be enough.

“You don’t have to thank me. Someone will be in touch. Have a good day, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Y/N,” she corrected with a smile before she nodded and started backing away.

He smiled at her correction and gave a final nod.

——————

Y/N didn’t expect to hear from anyone for at least a week.

If the Wayne family was one thing, it was busy.

They probably had parties to go to, meetings to attend, private jets taking them around the world whenever they wished.

Why would they ever prioritize a meeting with her, a stranger?

So imagine her surprise when she received a call from an unrecognized number the same day she gave Tim Drake her card.

“Hello?” She answered.

Usually she would let any unknown number go to voicemail.

“Hello,” a British voice answered. “Am I speaking with Ms. Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she,” Y/N sat up straighter on her couch.

“This is Alfred Pennyworth. I work for Master Wayne and manage all his personal appointments. I was told by Master Tim that you wished to meet with him?”

“Uhhh. Yes. Yes, I do. Is that…is that possible?”

“Would you be able to stop by Wayne Manor on Friday afternoon?”

Y/N already knew she had nothing going on that would stop her from getting this done. But she still paused to pretend to think about it.

“Yes, Friday afternoon should be fine. Are you sure he doesn’t just want me to stop by Wayne Enterprises?”

It felt oddly intimate to stop by Wayne Manor. Wouldn’t they want to meet her in a more secure location like a corporate building with security that already hated her?

“He is quite certain. Should I send a car for you Ms. Y/L/N?”

A car?

Y/N felt even more out of her depth now.

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Thanks,” she answered before hanging up and realizing that probably wasn’t the proper response to such a polite goodbye.

——————

“I haven’t heard that name since high school,” Bruce had muttered as he stared at the business card for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Yes, and the end of your relationship did not end on the best of terms,” Alfred commented.

Y/M’s/N Y/L/N had been Bruce’s high school sweetheart.

An she had seen the last moments of Bruce’s normal life. 

Upon graduation, Bruce decided to leave Gotham and that’s how his second life was founded. The two of them broke up before the summer after graduation had even ended.

Well, “Breakup” was a strong word.

Bruce stopped answering her calls.

She was his first love and he continued to love her.

But once Bruce realized where his life was going and who he wanted to be, he knew he couldn’t drag her into it. She deserved better.

And Bruce was a coward about relationships then. Maybe he still was.

“I am certain you did a thorough background check on her already,” Alfred commented with a smirk.

Bruce took in a breath before listing off all of her accomplishments. “Y/F/N Y/L/N. Graduated number one in her class at Gotham Academy. She was the star of the track team, breaking the regional record for fastest time in 100m, 200m, and 400m races. Also captain of her soccer team. Attended NYU’s photography program before dropping out after a year. Now she’s a professional photography. Her work’s been featured in Vogue, New York Times, National Geographic…amongst others.”

“Rather an impressive woman,” Alfred said.

Bruce nodded.

“I should get the tea and coffee ready for her arrival.” And with that, Alfred left Bruce in the drawing room.

30 minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Bruce glanced down at his watch: she was right on time.

He heard Alfred saying his pleasantries before he heard the clicking of her heels as she rounded the corner to enter the room he was waiting in.

For being a famous photographer, she could’ve been a runway model with her height and the way she walked into the room, completely owning it. She wore four-inch heels, only adding to her natural tallness. And her bright, red coat only added to her presence.

For a split second, Bruce was convinced that he was looking at an Amazon. Diana immediately flashed into his mind for a split second. Perhaps that was what Y/M’s/N needed help with: to get her daughter to her real people. But how would she have known Bruce Wayne had such connections? Unless she knew Batman’s true identity…

As soon as Y/N spotted him in the room, he rose from his seat.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Bruce greeted.

He took a step forward and held out his hand.

“You guys really love the formalities.” She said it with a dark evenness, but it was clearly a joke. “Y/N is fine, Mr. Wayne,” she added as she shook his hand.

“In that case, it’s Bruce,” he countered with a soft smirk.

There was something so familiar about her. But Bruce knew they’d never met. 

“Thank you for seeing me. I don’t want to waste anymore of your time,” Y/N quickly got to it. She opened her purse to grab the envelope.

“My mom wanted you to have this. And she wanted to make sure I was the one to give it to you,” Y/N explained as she offered it to him.

Bruce took it carefully, but didn’t open it. “Yes, I heard about her passing. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she said hurriedly, making it obvious to Bruce that she did not want nor need his condolences.

Bruce nodded slowly.

There was a pause.

“Do you know what it says?” He asked her lightly.

She shook her head. “I wasn’t supposed to read it.”

“I see.”

“I should really be going. I have a flight to catch later tonight.” Most people that visited Wayne Manor wished to stay there forever. Or their curiosity got the best of them and their eyes took in every little detail.

But Y/N looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. And she wanted to get out as soon as she possibly could.

“Thank you again for seeing me,” she rushed out.

Without waiting for his answer, Y/N turned and started walking out of the room.

But she only got a few steps before she stopped.

Bruce watched her shoulders tense and her body move as she was clearly taking in deep breath.

Slowly, Y/N turned around to face him.

“Were you friends?”

Bruce gave her a watery smile. “She was my girlfriend in high school.”

Y/N seemed annoyed by that answer. “She never mentioned you. Not once.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed at that and his eyes zoned out as if he was revising the past in his mind. “I’m not entirely surprised. Things didn’t really end well between us.”

She nodded slowly. “Goodbye, Mr. Wayne.”

And Y/N turned and strutted out of the room without looking back.

As soon as Bruce heard her cab drive away, he ripped open the envelope and pulled out a letter.

He barely noticed that Dick had walked into the room. “May I ask…Who was the extremely attractive and tall woman that just walked out?”

But Bruce didn’t hear him as his eyes raced across the letter. His heart sped as he continued reading.

“Bruce?” Dick asked after being ignored. “Is she your next conquest or what?”

It wasn’t until Bruce was done reading the letter for the third time that he finally looked up and acknowledged Dick.

Alfred had also walked into the room, unbeknownst to Bruce.

“You OK?” Dick asked, now concerned with how silent Bruce had become.

“Master Wayne?” Alfred also urged.

“That was…my daughter,” Bruce finally muttered.

Dick blinked before his eyes grew wide in shock.

Alfred seemed less surprised, almost as if he had already put that together.

“Excuse me,” Bruce told them and exited the room.

———

Dick and Alfred must’ve warned the rest of the family not to bother Bruce in the cave. Usually he would’ve been disturbed by now.

Bruce had been at the computer for hours.

Alfred was the first person to come down, carrying a tray with dinner and tea.

The butler wasn’t surprised to find Y/N’s face all over the screens.

If Bruce had left any available information hidden before inviting Y/N to the manor, it was all out there now. Bruce knew everything about Y/F/N Y/L/N that was public knowledge – probably even some things that were not.

“You know, you did not seem all that surprised,” Bruce said to Alfred as he put the tray of food down next to him.

“Seemed rather obvious, didn’t it?”

Bruce quickly turned to look at him. “It did?”

Alfred smirked. “Her eyes,” was all he said.

“The color?”

Alfred shook his head. “As soon as she walked into the manor, they were reading me.” He tilted his head in Bruce’s direction. “Observation. Perception. Attention to detail...That is all you, Master Wayne.”

“The way she held herself,” Alfred continued, "Shoulders held back, head high, walking with purpose. No hesitation.”

“Also me?” Bruce asked.

Alfred simply nodded.  

“I don’t think she liked me very much,” Bruce sighed.

He didn’t know how he felt about that yet.

“A lot of people think you don’t like them when you first meet them,” Alfred countered. “Because I don’t trust them yet.”

Alfred raised his brows and silently ask him, ‘Don’t you see my point?’

Bruce rubbed his face and reached for the tea on the tray, ignoring all the food.

“I don’t know why you’re so entertained by this, Alfred.”

“Yes, I was entertained. I just saw a younger, female version of you, Master Wayne.”

“I abandoned her,” Bruce shot.

“You didn’t know she existed,” Alfred corrected.

“And why do you think that is?”

Alfred’s face dropped a little bit when he noticed the envelope discarded on the far end of Bruce’s desktop.

He looked down at the ground as he asked, “Might I ask what the letter said?”

Bruce glared at the letter as if touching it would burn him.

But after a moment, he grabbed it and quickly handed it to Alfred.

Bruce,

If this letter has finally reached you, it is because I have passed.

I must admit that I wrote this letter mostly in the event that I leave my daughter before she is an adult. But once Y/N turned 18, I decided to still pass this along to you.

There is no easy way to tell you this, so I will get to the point.

The young woman who delivered this letter to you is your daughter, Bruce.

Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.

When I found out I was pregnant with her, I was only 18. We had just graduated high school. You had started traveling. You called less and less. And you grew more distant – physically and emotionally. Eventually, you stopped answering my calls altogether. I left you a voicemail, only saying that I so desperately needed to talk to you, that I needed you.

But you never called me back.

With no words at all, you made it very clear that you no longer wanted anything to do with me.

But there I was, a teenager who was pregnant with our child.

I would be lying if I said I never considered terminating my pregnancy. I was scared and you broke my heart. All I wanted to do was erase you from my life.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Once I decided what my future was going to be, I also decided that I did not want you to have any part in it.

I knew even if you pretended to play the doting father and the committed partner, you would grow tired of us eventually. You would resent me and our child for bringing you down. And you would brush us aside for yourself.

I realized I would rather Y/N have no father at all than one who would only disappoint her over and over again.

To this day, I truly believe I did the right thing for all three of us.

There are not enough words to explain the complicated woman that Y/N grew up to be. But I will try my best. I think I owe you that at least. 

Or maybe you have no interest.

I don’t know how she became so much like you, even when I never so much as showed her a picture of you or uttered your name.

She enjoys being alone – almost to her own detriment. I constantly catch her repressing her feelings, always staying strong for everyone else. It reminds me of you. She’s assertive and confident, never letting anything stand in the way of what she wants. Sometimes I don’t think she’s scared of anything. It worries me, just like it worried me when I thought the same of you.

I truly don’t know what you will do with this information.

But…if you have any desire to form some sort of relationship with her, then you should know this: she will not make it easy for you. She will push you away. And she might even hate you. I raised her to never need a man in her life, and she’ll make sure you know that.

I don’t expect anything from you. I never did.

But I would just like to know there might be someone who will be there for her should she need them.

Goodbye, Bruce.

Alfred slowly handed the letter back to Bruce when he was finished.

“I pushed her away because I knew what I was about to become,” Bruce explained darkly. “And I didn’t want her anywhere near it. She would’ve been in danger.”

“Y/N, as well,” Alfred added.

“But had I known…if I just listened to her–”

“Master Wayne, I thought we had agreed to never linger on the ‘what ifs.’”

That sure silenced Bruce.

“Now, what do you plan on doing, Master Wayne?”

———

Y/N frowned when her phone started vibrating and she recognized the name of her mom’s executor on her phone screen.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, how are you?”

“Fine. How are you?” She was quick, wanting to get this over with. Surely, he had bad news. Another medical bill came in or some other expense that slipped by them.

“Good, good. Just curious…have you placed any payments to our various claims?”

“Uhhh…no. But I’m working on it.”

Y/N hadn’t expected to get a call nagging about paying bills.

“No, no, no. You misunderstand. They’ve all been paid,” the executor explained.

Y/N sat up straighter in her chair. “What? That’s not possible.”

“An anonymous donor. They somehow got record of all your outstanding payments and covered all of them.”

Y/N was stunned to silence.

“Ms. Y/L/N…this is a good thing.”

She blinked and shook her head. “Right. Yes, of course. I just…thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank this guardian angel of yours.”

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

Part 2

Let me know what you think!!!

[sir-arlieosaurus-lung-struggler]

Next morning, breathing still feels shallow but I'm much better than when I started this.

that being said I now am nervous for the start of the school year, last year was fucking **exhausting** 😥 lung-wise, scar-wise, fatigue I dont yet have an answer for cause I never asked publically in the 1st place-wise, it wasn't as bad as the original post but it felt that bad alot, I'd flop & wobble the hallways at school cause my legs just decided "meh, I dont really feel like it", I'd feel so tired of wobbling I just wanted my body weight to give in & to faint to just get the day over with, I'd hunch over clinging my scars cause THAT SHIT CAN HURT, I'd run to classes still be late & need my inhailer, I'd take myself easy & try not to streatch myself just to get to class on time just to be marked late. My school has 5 fucking floors & a 5 min passing period.

All my friends were like "you should go to the nurse" "you should get an elevator pass" & I was just here like "ha ha- no. I want to but no 😎👉👉"

All that's not even counting the anxiety of just existing in school, the anxiety of all that & adding onto just my normal anxieties & "oh great- it's the last week we have our computers. I have 4 projects due the same day. I have like- 2 done." The last week of school I had like- hour long panic attacks 3 consecutive days in a row. Cause of that my sleep was atrocious. I was fucking exhausted. I had a sick day the last monday of school. By the time it was time to turn stuff in, I didnt even care if it wasnt finished. In 1 week I had to make & present a math game to my class, make a hypothetical 7 day road trip around my state w/ PowerPoint detailing weather, transportation cost, & gas money, finish a late writing assignment, & write a speech about poverty in a week & read it allowed to the class. The only thing that gave me motivation that week was my teacher who gave us the speech assignment. When I was finished I was surprised to get some of the most feedback that day, then after class he pulled me aside & said "I'm going to use very technical language w/ you, you kicked ass" & that was the thing to make my whole god damn year. So yea, I'm kinda scared. What if it all happens again, what if it's worse, what if school & doctors offices is my only life out of home again cause my fucking lungs are triggered by everything except for autumn, what if I dont ask for any sort of help A-FUCKING-GAIN till ppl start needing to force it on me. So yea, fuck school. I really wish I didn't have to go. I wish I'd learn to grow a damn spine so I could at least advocate for myself, just to get through the day & not getting a full breath of air or feeling like I need a cane or some form of mobility aid anymore.

today's gonna be interesting lol

I'm tired so idc about Grammer/spelling rn I try get point across w/ as little effort possible (say I sound like a fucking toddler I dont give a shit)

Area I live = smokey = bad air, scars on side = sometimes hurt, bad air = not breath good & hurt. Mom called lung specialist, nurse lady said no open spot, but if get worse call normal doc/go to urgent care. I think tired from low oxygen in brain. Sorry if not fully legible.

I dont like moving rn, nurse on phone said try use inhailer, but it on other side of the house & no one in room rn to get it for me. I normally cant feel like I get full breath w/out extra effort & feeling lung streatch to far so = hurt, but now also feels less than my normal. My mom just came in & got me inhailer :>

Thank u for coming to mah Ted-talk, i gave you this message laying on foam mattress on floor, asthma sucks, if you know anyone in smokey area especially ppl w/ lung issues plz wish them luck. I'm taking inhailer now :>

[theskyexists]

scholomance 2

The first half of this book was a bit slow and not so crunchy, the second was very very crunchy, and the twist worked out pretty well.

things that don’t make a whole lot of sense:

1. why is there a weight limit (this could be explained by saying it takes gallons of mana to bring mass in that way thus weight capped)

2. why does failing the exams literally maim or kill you. i would protest that shit if i were a fucking parent.

3. why the fuck would you need to reach some damn gates to get out when the kids get IN via induction spell and the way out is via unspooling that same spell

4. why didn’t they use the goddamn COMPLETELY FREE healing spell again

5. why not use a reviser to phase mals (MAWMOUTHS) out of the graduation hall.

6. so why exactly does the school KEEP good spells from students and fuck them over so much with exams and languages if it actually IS aiming to keep them all alive. what a weird twist. would have made much more sense if it was simply the biggest mal yet. like why the fuck would it have encouraged El NOT to go after the mawmouth going after the freshmen if it was trying to keep students safe???

7. i still dont understand where mana comes from and why it comes from horror terror annoyance pain

things that don’t make sense to me narratively:

1. why have El go on and on about enclaves and reading and studying and the scholomance is in essence an enclave and not capitalise on that (maybe next book but like...)

2. why was Precious such a bitch about El getting together with Orion? like jezus, they were just dating, just kissing and having sex and falling in love and shit. whats wrong with that my god. yeah shes gonna be devastated and everything bc he lied. he doesn’t love her more than killing mals (a very late dramatic twist bc for the longest time El didn’t even understand he genuinely loves it)

steps forward now:

just keep doing this shit ey? make an enclave type thing as a trap, lure em all in and boot the bit of matter into the void. BAM. exterminator supreme, El!

Like i was like, well now the chances are 50/50 for wizard kids, let’s build a new scholomance, and have the kids come down the maintenance shaft every week to burn the new ones out in teams (new freshman handbook rules, seniors do this so graduation goes way smoother) and especially kill the agglos and re-ward the mortal flame machines. if a mawmouth shows up just revise it out of existence with the revisers you put under everybody’s pillows. since this was never said to cost too much mana - why not.

but now theres a much better option. just boot em out into the void. just do that shit! hope the debris doesn’t bump into some enclave also out in the void.

incomprehensible liveblog:

is she gonna be a teacher???? to these freshman kids?

scholomance is so damn hard on these kids but it does also sometimes act in their best interests....probably to keep them coming

ok so the scholomance is trying to kill her even more desperately. by playing on her protective instinct, by assigning her the worst ever seminars and classrooms

why doesn’t she ASK CHLOE OR ORION FOR MANA OH MY GOD. WHY DOESN’T ORION OFFER IT TO HER

‘Sure, the story is, the enclaves put in some mana, and our parents all put in some mana if they can afford it, and we put in mana with our work, but we all know that’s a story. The single biggest source of the school’s mana is us. We’re all trying to save mana for graduation; everyone’s working on it all the time. The mana we grudgingly put into our schoolwork and our maintenance shifts is nothing compared with the amounts we put away for that rainiest of rainy days. And when the mals tear us apart, of course we grab for all that nice juicy power we’ve desperately been saving up, and they suck it out of us, only built up more by all our terror and final agony and struggles to live. The Scholomance gets the spillover, and then thanks to all those wards, it kills off a good healthy number of the mals, too, and it all ends up in the school’s mana stores—where it goes to keep the rest of us luckier ones alive’

So when an enthusiastic hero—read, Orion—shows up and starts saving lives, and the mals start to starve, the school starts to starve, too. And at the same time, has more of us alive in here, breathing and drinking et cetera. It’s all a pyramid scheme, and if there aren’t enough of us on the bottom being eaten, there’s not enough for the ones at the top.

an explanation!

so in other words, the only thing that comes into this closed system is the kids, and teh mals. and teh scholomance can only grab teh spillover of mana when the mals or kids are killed, or the kids deliberately put mana into maintenance/schoolwork. somehow. i guess there’s a huge loss on the energy when it’s used to kill though. somehow. i guess because the mana is transformed into something else by spells. thus it cannot be sucked up by the school. but it’s happy with Orion killing teh small mals. won’t it be happy with El doing the same?

EXACTLY. ASK CHLOE. REMIND HER WHAT EL CAN DO. FOR GOOD OR BAD.

YES!!!!!!!!!!! FINALLY SOMEBODY GOT THEIR WITS TOGETHER AND REALISED THAT EL IS THE ONE TO GIVE THE RESOURCES

NOW THE WHOLE SCHOOL’S GOT A POWERHOUSE

won’t the new york enclave be upset with Chloe’s alliance?

pretty sad to have el’s work always (still!) be attributed to orion

AAHH there’s a freshman handbook.... which el read ofc but orion didn’t.

Well fucking finally people realised that El’s a catch. I mean - jezus christ. She really could have shown everbody from the start.

what i dont get is if her mother had 7 spellbooks why doesnt she know more of her spells

why the fuck aren’t they inviting orion on their team

Why the FUCK would they stop working on the honeypot if the lute plan mostly worked and apparently Orion has just found the key component of wizard blood. It's essential that Orion pours in more mana into the pool!!! Wtf???

Why think it normal that's 1. Scholomance has it out for El 2. THUS the mals come after her. Just cos the school lets them through or what?

The finals literally main students. SURELY wizards didn't think of that part???? Surely thats the scholomance operating as much within its parameters to weaken the weak further?

Why the hell would El consider all the killing spells she gets useless? The whole point is to kill mals. She could become a literal exterminator outside too.

It really does seem like the wizards have lost control of the school. Why else couldn't they sneak in adults with induction?

How the fuck can I ship Orion and El if he doesn't even get anything ever about her. But I guess his dumbness strengthens her

What are the mouse familiars about...

You're telling me that there's NO magic to keep you from getting pregnant???? Hello??? Aha. The spell gets confused....that doesn't make any sense lol. It's not like a shield spell gets confused when you walk into a gout of flame deliberately to get to the other side of the graduation hall, now does it?

The obstacle course stuff implies that wizards can still adjust things inside the scholomance. So why would they allow the Scholomance to maim those who fail their exams.

I thought seniors got access to way better spells? But El's gotten nothing. Also that reviser trick is great. Why not dump patience and fortitude out into the void like that? And reading so much about enclave spells, I feel like that should give her a way with the reality and unreality of the scholomance.

Why the fuck would El say that mature wizards are the real apex predators. In what sense. What do they hunt

Oh only NOW does El ask the invincible hero in love with her to join her team. What the fuck. And he doesn't say yes? And she was asking him for his safety?

What I don't understand is why they don't share spells. I understand keeping mana for yourself but why not spells??

They actually use the spells they're gonna use at graduation? I mean...isn't that wasting mana. And the obstacle course can kill you. I mean....that's only going to lower everybody's chances right

They're all bloodied up. So let's do a circle spell again? THEY DONT DO THE COMPLETELY FREE HEALING SPELL

Right - ok that explains the casting. If the course fakes the effect then either it's an illusion and illusions are cheaper or the ffect comes out of the general mana pool and we know why the scholomance is always so hungry

Why the fuck would her wither spells not work but khamis firepotion would? Lol

Ahhh now she realises that she must save them all. But! How can she save them all - right?

She should take everybody with her on this course. Yep she is. But she should do it all together maybe.

El is so FUCKING stupid. She never tells people anything. 'oh they won't believe I'm powerful without proof :(' 'oh they won't believe I'll help people :('

Just TELL THEM. Ok just going for it was effective. And now ALL the teams are becoming more and more tightly knit.....

It's funny. El's got the INSTINCTS for bringing people together but she hasn't got the rational thinking for it. That's gotta be her friends dealing with her.

AND she keeps thinking : yeah I'm not doing that, but then doing it anyway. MAWMOUTH here she comes.

Orion is such a dumb brick Jezus Christ. He's really gone down in attractiveness

The SECOND half of this book is actually picking up

El keeps yammering on about how unfairly Orion was treated in the enclave but I genuinely do not see it. She makes deals all the time and thinks them fair. All the wizards do all their lives - and the enclave made the deal with Orion that he'd kill mals - which he instinctively loves to do - and they'd give him whatever. Which I think is pretty damn fair. Just because Orion is SO extremely lucky that he doesn't need any protection and wouldn't have had to come to the scholomance at all to survive - well, that's HIS EXTREME LUCK - which El used to despise in anyone. But if it's natural not social it's fine apparently.

YES!!! LIESEL!!!! ARMY GENERAL!!!!

Since they can't keep more than 300 alive, they're gonna somehow have to go one after the other. But how?

God theyre good. Kept their whole generation from getting eaten much. And now they're tackling graduation like no one else. What about the kids who come after...?

Liesel is so fucking right and El is almost as much an idiot as Orion. Idiot could have told and shown everyone and they could have prepared for FOUR years together.

What's up with this mouse trying to force El to stay away from Orion like she's the manifestation of Gwen's message.

LOOK AT WHAT THEY CAN ACCOMPLISH TOGETHER!!!!!!!!

And look how enormously useful El's death spells are. Should have written some more

EXACTLY. HAH. HERE IT COMES. Thanks sudarat. She's getting them all out. Alllll of em. Yep. All of the seniors. But what about those poor freshmen.....

The title is a bit of a hint. Her friends are gonna pissed when she stays behind.

'im so stupid' yeah El you're smarter than Orion but stupider than most others.

El my dear - you could make it better. You could improve the wards, burn out the mals, teach the children, defend defend defend, for as long as you stay

What would happen on the outside... More and more wizard kids. The lucky ones all survive in scholomance. The others die outside. And the wizard population grows... There really was something to the throwaway comment about wizards being the predators. Ecology ecology.

Maybe.....yeah the scholomance does want to be better. So.... It was nice to Orion because he was protecting kids. And it was hard on El to attempt prod her into action... After all....it gave her the sutra book, and kept her in the aisle. Not to keep her from helping Orion but to allow her to get the book. And it tried to get her out of the aisle when the mawmouth was there. Because it wasnt sure she could kill it. It put her with freshmen and led mals there to test her and to prepare her.

Thing is, if what's in the graduation hall is just so horrible - then them repairing the burners probably didn't work, and all those seniors died.

Oh right. It probably did work, and that's why the mawmouths are now desperately hungry.

Oh what. Oh no. Oh what the fuck. Where are they.

If the induction spell can drop you into your new room, and graduation is actually the reverse. WHY EVEN HAVE GATES.

'what do you want me to do?' she asks. And precious thinks it's obvious?

So the school made her care about everybody and told her look: you can.

Hmmm. But this is a very strange narrative twist. I was really getting into the whole army preparing to survive together by helping each other. And now there's nothing?

why the FUCK would the narrative go this way wtf.

I thought she would get everybody out, have to heroically fight patience and fortitude and then push Orion and Aadhya and Liu out with the sweep spell bc she'd stay forever to keep every generation safe.

But I guess that's....not it.

Ok but this is inconsistent because last year they were very much afraid of a full grown agglo coming through the doors down to graduation. (edit: that was an argonet apparently)

Ok I understand that a mawmouth is bad news but uhhhh El and Orion went down there and fixed stuff and didn't come across a single one. Like. Yeah yeah the little ones are faster but like...

But seriously why is there a graduation hall and not just a reverse on the induction spell

What WOULD work as a plan apart from dropping the whole school in the void is creating things that eat the agglos but which have a destruct button from a distance. Also simply reverse the induction spell to make graduation unnecessary. That having been built in really makes me feel like there's a hidden "lure all the mals to scholomance so they don't overwhelm all of wizard kind' agenda behind it secretly maybe perhaps.

So now I understand why the honeypot shit was in there. Don't understand why the narrative made it fail on small scale though.

Why make graduation only half an hour?

Also. Orion Lake leaking some sort of eldritch stuff out of his eyes certainly should have made an alarm bell go off in El's head perhaps.

OK SO. I think it's silly that a new mawmouth is given as an excuse that they can't keep killing the agglo's and repairing the mortal flame machine. Especially because the mortal flame took whole layers off of fortitude and patience. If you just dodged around the mawmouth /shielded enough - whichever came in in a couple of years, and you've got lots of space now - then you could easily keep it down if not kill it. Also - if the whole point was that Agglos are destroying the flame machine - specifically agglos - then I'm pretty sure that the narrative should have had El notice them chewing on the flame machine in the graduation hall when she was there. And a mawmouth is only a long term risk, they could improve odds for 5 years at least by regularly taking the maintenance shaft down and blasting any new mals to bits. Like every month. Or am I underestimating the presence of a single mawmouth? They really instantly want only a permanent solution.

More importantly, I'm a bit sad that instead of this development giving them space to create a whole new culture, one of all for one and and all for one, which will improve all of their odds enormously and make the experience hugely more pleasant - a culture they could pass on to the freshmen etc if they continue to root out mals together, perhaps hey, in teams from the start, patrolling,etc. but maybe the culture shift will happen outside as their whole generation is now in serious solidarity with each other.

This is one way I can see the prophecy working out in an unexpected positive way. El casts down the enclaves through true solidarity and reducing the desperate dependence that indie wizards have on enclaves. Also makes a mass killing in mals.

One more thing though is why don't they just let their kids get adopted by mundanes. Or idk invited mundanes into their house at all times? Whystick to the nuclear family. Grab your mundanes - grab homeless people off the streets and make them babysitters! Get a mundane nanny bodyguard! Jeeze. get four!

Two other ways I can see this plan go horribly wrong though and fulfilling the prophecy:

1. patience and fortitude are loose. Where did they go? More importantly - where did the Bangkok enclave go.... Can mawmouths traverse the void? Or...did the mawmouths simply roll out and go back hunting in the real world? Two huge impossible to kill mawmouths? Because Orion and El managed to deprive them?

2. There's a lot of ecosystem-type talk - reproductive rates, survival rates and predator Vs. prey. What if it was a good thing that all these wizard kids died? That is to say - it kept balance. This ties into one of my questions: how did wizards survive at all when 6 in 7 kids are normally eaten? It is said that mals used to be less powerful and hungry.... What changed so rapidly ? Or were wizards simply having loads and loads of kids to beat the odds? (seems unlikely to me)

El has often misinterpreted the Scholomance, and I think it's wrong to think it would evenhandedly keep kids safe. I'd say it absolutely does not - and picks off the weak to power itself so the strong can survive.

Im not into this romance anymore. El is so constantly worried about Orion - and yes he's shown himself dumb as a brick, dumb enough to get himself killed almost a dozen times. But! He's so completely blasé. He's never ever shown himself to align with her sense of injustice about his serious desire to simply kill kill kill them mals.

They're literally going to escape like tomorrow. So just fuck already! Jesus! Ok finally.

EXACTLY. Jezus did they really need to have sex first for Orion to set El straight on how he's not been damaged by his parents and enclave? He's just LIKE THIS. he loves to kill and slurp up mana. That's who he is. Lol - but she really can't deal with it. She kept trying to blame the enclave but ITS JUST WHO HE IS.

SHE REALLY STILL THINKS THAT ORION HAS SIMPLY BEEN TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF. WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER?????

Please do NOT die Liu. DO NOT DIE.

Oh right ok that's the crux. He thinks he's weird. But he IS weird. But that doesn't mean he can't pursue happiness.

I do wonder.... HAVE THEY ACTUALLY TESTED THAT THE SONG WILL LURE THE MALS AWAY FROM THE WIZARDS ACTUALLY LITERALLY STANDING THERE IN LINE

Also I wonder.....whether she's gonna have to kill another mawmouth

An obstruction eh.....might....that....be...a....mawmouth....

Ok but if the induction point is where the kids go back, and it is ringed by adult wizards, and ringed by hungry mals, how are the mals getting past the wizards. And also...if they've lured lots of hungry mals to the induction points and the kids are going back there........

Are they expecting a mawmouth tho. Like there's two still HERE!!!!!

Lol finally El understands and BELIEVES Orion. Jezus when he tells you something El - LISTEN. STOP THINKING HES NOT RIGHT IN THE HEAD. now she understands.

Please tell me that the kids going out didn't all get eaten. This isn't that kind of book right.

Why did they not expect a mawmouth. And why was it able to get through the fucking refusalshield??? That doesn't make any sense???? Was Alfie already out???? Oh it wasn't UP to the gate.

Liesel is so damn smart lol. She's so much smarter than El. TAKE THE DAMN MINDPHONE EL OR YOULL NEVER BE ABLE TO CALL ORION THROUGH THE FUCKING GATE

What the FUCK Orion.

Jezus Christ. He can't even fucking kill it! Oh my god.

[scuttling]

Mega Thread Count Sheets

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 2,395 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Possessive Hotch, Dom/sub, Daddy kink, Masturbation, Come marking, Unprotected sex, Manhandling, Rough sex, Breeding kink, Dirty talk, Established relationship, This really got away from me Summary: Aaron and his girlfriend spend the night at Rossi's after a family dinner, and some of her comments earn both discipline and reward. (+Hotch calling the reader 'pet' rights.) Link to A03 or read below! It’s Friday night, and everyone gathers at Rossi’s for a family dinner—it’s homemade gnocchi, so good she could inhale her plateful and Aaron’s too, and the wine is flowing, funny stories are being told. After dinner, she sinks against Aaron on the sofa, warm, happy, laughing at JJ’s high school antics; they aren’t drunk, but cozy and sleepy enough that when it’s time to leave, neither of them really want to drive home.

“You can stay here if you want; I’ve got plenty of space,” Rossi says, and she’s not sure, because she’s wearing a short little sundress, has been teasing Aaron pretty hard tonight, and she imagines he’s got some plans for them when they get home.

“Okay; thanks, Dave,” he says, surprising her, and he excuses himself for the restroom while Rossi goes to get everything set up. Aaron returns before Rossi, and she leans up to give him a kiss.

“He’s putting us up in a guest room in the other wing. The other wing. He’s so rich he’s got wings, what the hell.” She wraps her arms around Aaron’s midsection, hugs him close. “The absurdity of that aside, if we’re in the other wing, that means we’ll be far enough away that he can’t hear us… if we were to do something noisy, that is.” He leans down for a soft kiss; she knows he won’t give her more than that, since Rossi is still nearby.

“Are you planning to be noisy?” he whispers, and she looks down at his lips, briefly, and back up to his eyes.

“Aren’t I always?” He looks at her like he wants to devour her, and she’s totally on board with that plan, but then Rossi strides in and they both pull apart. He points them to their room, down the hall, third door on the left, and then says goodnight, heads down the opposite hallway to his bedroom.

She and Aaron walk down the hall, passing paintings and artful knick-knacks that probably cost more than her car. “He made all this money writing books?”

“He sure as hell didn’t make it at the FBI,” Aaron says with a chuckle, and she whistles.

“Damn, I need to start writing books. Maybe like a Fifty Shades type thing, about you and me.” She makes her voice breathy and low and ridiculous. “He’s my super hot superior, and I know it’s wrong, but just thinking about getting on my knees for him makes my innocent cunt quiver with anticipation.” He glances over at her with his eyebrows raised.

“I can make your cunt quiver.” She grins.

“I know you can.”

When they enter the room, it’s gorgeous, if a little extravagant, made up in gold and cream and crimson, like something in a castle and not a place just outside DC. She brushes her hand over the pillows, because they look soft, and then she pulls back the corner of the blanket, slips between the sheets, still fully dressed.

“Oh my god, these have to have a thread count of like, two million,” she says, wiggling her bare thighs back and forth against them. Aaron huffs.

“I buy us high thread count sheets.”

“But do you buy us ultra high thread count sheets?” she asks, still wiggling. “Mega high thread count? I think these are mega high thread count.” He sits down beside her, runs his hand over the sheets, frowns.

“They’re not that nice. They probably aren’t even Egyptian cotton, and you love the Egyptian cotton,” he counters. He sounds a little... off. It makes her wonder what’s on his mind.

“No, they’re probably like… Roman cotton, or Calabrian cotton. Something super Italian and decadent.” She arches her eyebrows, and he pulls back the blanket and sheet, so he’s presented with her body; he kneels around her legs, hands on her waist. Her breath picks up.

“Naughty girl. Are you trying to make daddy feel bad? Like he doesn’t fucking spoil you enough already?” He takes her wrists in one of his hands and pins them above her head, pushes up her dress over her hips with the other. He sighs deeply, closes his eyes briefly. “You’re not wearing panties, pet.”

She licks her lips. She’d actually forgotten all about that. “I took them off earlier.”

“When? Why?” he asks, eyes stern and making her squirmy. She resists against him a little, just for the fun of it, and he holds her tighter.

“Before we left home. They were wet, daddy.” He leans in, hovers over her and moves her dress up further, bares her tits. She licks her lips again.

“Oh? Why were they wet?”

“Because I love you,” she purrs, and he catches her jaw in his hand, presses a crushing kiss to her lips. She groans into it, tries to roll her hips, but his knees on either side of her don’t allow it. “Daddy.”

“No. You mean to tell me my little pet was walking around here all evening with no panties on? In that little dress?” He takes his hands off her, and she pulls her wrists down, but he grabs them up again, shoves them over her head, and barks, “stay.”

He opens his belt, his fly, takes out his cock and then covers her wrists again; he tightens his knees around her hips, she can feel them digging in, and starts stroking himself, staring down at her face.

“Naughty little thing, prancing around here with a bare pussy. Don’t you know you belong to daddy? Don’t you know this pussy belongs to daddy?” He leans in so he can rub the head between her soaked lips, and again, she wants to buck up for more, but he won’t allow it. “You’re not coming, I’m coming. I’m coming all over what’s mine. And then, when I’m ready for more, I’m going to hold you down and use you, naughty pet, and if you’re good for me up until then maybe I’ll let you get off. Understand?”

She whimpers, struggles, but ultimately nods.

“Yes, daddy.”

He jerks his cock smoothly but quickly, wants to come fast, but he pauses to take her dress off completely, and then his own clothes; he probably realized these were the only clothes they have here, and doing a morning walk of shame covered in come stains is not a great look.

As soon as they’re naked, though, he grabs her wrists again, gets his knees on either side of her so she can’t move, and strokes his cock again. He’s watching her, his eyes set and focused on her face, and she’s watching him, his mouth and his hand and his thick dick disappearing inside his fist.

“You don’t like it when I don’t let you come, do you, pet? You don’t like it when I don’t let you touch me.” She perks up a little at being addressed—sometimes when she’s being disciplined this way, he gets himself off like she’s not even there—and she pants, squirms, and shakes her head.

“No, daddy, I don’t like that. I want to touch you, and I want you to make me come.” Her chest heaves, the only part of her that can really move, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “But I know you need to come on me first, daddy. I deserve to have to wait, because I was naughty.” Aaron grunts, and fists his cock more desperately. So fucking sexy.

“Yes, you have to wait, but you’re my good girl now. You’re behaving for me; I’ll make you come soon, after you’re covered in me.” Almost like he wills it to happen, he tenses, comes, makes sure to get some on her tits and stomach and pussy, covering her with thick ropes that have her drenched from the inside out. She moans like it’s her own orgasm, wanton and eager, and when he’s done he leans in to take her mouth in a hard, passionate kiss; he releases her wrists, and she sinks her fingers in his hair, pulls him closer, pants against his lips.

“Love you,” she says with wide open eyes, and he kisses her softly, brushes his thumb over her lips.

“Love you so much.” He lays beside her while he recovers—she’ll manage to get him hard again relatively quickly, but he does need some time in between—and gently drags one fingertip through his come, tracing abstract patterns, rubbing it over her nipples and around her belly button, up and down her aching, throbbing pussy. She wants so much more, but she’s good and patient, just the way daddy wants her to be.

After laying like that for a little bit, Aaron takes her hand and guides it to his cock, lets her wrap around him and touch him and bring him to full hardness, and she closes her eyes, hums, licks her lips. Touching him after so much time not being allowed to touch him gets her extremely aroused, her whole body sensitive, her mind hazy with pleasure. It’s the best kind of reward by far.

The slow, gentle part of their evening is abruptly over when he flips her onto her stomach, come-covered body face-down against Rossi’s pretty crimson sheets. Jesus. She moans so loudly she’s not sure Rossi can’t hear her, even from the other wing.

He gets the head of his cock inside her, covers both of her hands with his, and slams inside, repeatedly, earning whimpering, desperate moans as his speed and intensity increases.

“How do those sheets feel?” he coos in her ear, her cheek smashed into them, as he fucks hard against her ass; her body is bouncing on the bed with each rough thrust, and she whines, shivers.

“Fine, daddy, but—mmh, nothing feels better than you.” In truth, it feels amazing, but only because her belly and tits are still covered in his come and she feels like a dirty whore; only Aaron can make her delight in ruining Rossi’s expensive sheets, which is a complete asshole move by anyone’s standards, and also really gross.

“That’s right, pet. I might never have a mansion with multiple wings, but I’ll always take care of you. You don’t have to want for anything.”

“I know daddy. I don’t want for anything but you.”

“And what do you want from me now?” he asks, pounding harder and kissing her cheek softly. Things like these are what really get her off, the marriage of tenderness and roughness, the way he knows what to do to maintain the balance.

“Harder, daddy. Take me, daddy,” she pants, and he squeezes her hands and doubles down, wrecking her pussy, no doubt bruising her hips with his unyielding thighs pressed tightly against them. “Maybe…” She doesn’t continue, because it’s nothing they’ve discussed yet, but he moves his mouth to her ear and tugs on it with his teeth.

“Maybe what, pet? Daddy always wants to hear you.” She squeezes her eyes closed and whimpers, getting close. She hopes the idea doesn’t freak him out. They’ve only been dating for a year.

“Maybe try to put a baby in me, daddy. I’m on birth control tonight, but you could practice?”

Aaron loses his mind.

“Oh, you want daddy to put a baby in you? You want me to put my come deep and then fuck it deeper into you until there’s no doubt you’ll end up pregnant with my babies, pet?” His thrusts have been quick and harsh, but shallow, up until now, but he adjusts his knees to slide in deeply, fully sheathed inside her, rocking her body and making her ass shake. “You’ll take it so good, won’t you? You’ll let me breed you full of babies, one after another.”

“Fuck, yes daddy, breed me full daddy. Wanna have your babies, wanna be full of you, wanna be yours.” He lifts his right hand off of hers and puts it on the back of her neck, grips tight, and leans in to press his teeth against her shoulder, breathing harshly.

“You are mine. I’ll make sure you never forget it.” She won’t, couldn’t, never, babbles something to that effect and then comes seeing stars, howling his name, and daddy, and oh.

Aaron whispers her name, and sweet baby, and perfect little pet, and changes nothing, keeps drilling hard and deep while she whines and whimpers over being used like he’s using her.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he murmurs in her ear while he fucks her into the mattress. “Good girl making pretty noises on daddy’s cock; I’m going to put a baby in you, we’ll make a baby, a perfect little baby with your nose and my eyes, pet, promise.” She moans, wrecked, her hair frizzy, sweat clinging to her temples, and he comes with a grunt, moves his hands to her ass and spreads her while he spills inside, so he can be as deep as possible.

He pistons his hips a half a dozen times after, and then grinds slowly like he’s making sure she’s covered in come. It’s incredibly hot, and feels so good, and she comes again and then sags against the bed and lets him move inside her until he’s ready to pull out. When he does, he rolls her over, takes her in his arms, and they just hold each other and whisper and breathe for so long she starts to drift to sleep.

He gets them in the shower, cleans her up, kisses her lips and cheeks and all the places his body hurt hers, and she sighs, smiles, and thanks him. He thanks her back. The next morning, they’re getting ready to leave, and she is almost out the door when she hears Aaron talking to Rossi.

“Really nice sheets in that room. What kind are they?”

“They’re great, aren’t they? Peruvian cotton—Pima.” Aaron makes a sound of understanding.

“How much did they cost?”

“Around $120, I think.” She can hear the sound of paper—money—and ducks around the corner to see Aaron with his wallet out, handing Rossi a few bills.

“Sorry.” He pats Rossi on the shoulder and walks toward her, raises his eyebrows. “Ready to go?”

She sighs, nods, and takes his hand.

When they get home, they get online and order the sheets. And pick out a crib. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @wolviesbabes

[calpalirwin]

I’m sure in the deep abyss that is my blog I’ve mentioned this before, but in light of recent, deeply troubling news, and a lack of being able to announce this on other social media platforms I have out of respect to my husband’s privacy (read: his family follows me) I feel that this a story time worth retelling. So here we go.

10 years ago, I had an abortion.

10 years ago I got to make that choice for myself. In a situation where my partner and I did everything “right” in terms of practicing safe sex and being in a safe and consensual relationship, I STILL chose to have an abortion for an unplanned/unwanted pregnancy.

We didn’t do it because we were baby hater or didn’t want children. Because, spoiler alert, 10 years later, we are happily married and very happily raising our nearly 7 month old baby who we decided to have at a time in our lives when we were emotionally, physically, mentally, and relatively financially ready to have.

Choosing to have an abortion was not easy. I still mourn that loss. My husband still mourns that loss. But when I think about how hard we’ve struggled to make it where we are today and how much more of a struggle it would have been had we decided to go through with having a child then, I’d gladly endure that verbal abuse from strangers walking into that Planned Parenthood a million times over.

And to think that our nation has just made that choice nearly impossible for a lot of child-bearing persons to make? Disgusted isn’t a strong enough word.

Body autonomy is a fundamental human right. Striping away that right will not stop abortions from happening and when “forced pregnancy” is “committed as part of a widespread or systemic attack directed against any civilian population with knowledge of the attack” it is a LITERAL crime against humanity. Also the implications of criminalizing abortion/forcing pregnancies to happen in a nation with highest rate of maternal mortality in developed nations, a broken and corrupt foster care system, incredibly ridiculous costs and restrictions for adoption, virtually zero assistance for new parents, and not to mention the continuing of allowing our already alive and breathing child(ren) to be shot for simply going to school, is putting this nation dangerously close to committing an act of genocide (again…)

“BuT tHe CoNsTiTuTiOn!”

Yes, I understand the nuances that led to this decision. I also know that the US Constitution is a living document. As it it can be amended. So FUCKIN’ AMEND IT. WRITE IT IN OUR GOD DAMN CONSTITUTION THAT ALL PERSONS HAVE CERTAIN HUMANITARIAN RIGHTS SUCH AS BUT ARE NOT LIMITED TO PROTECTION AGAINST *insert every item listed as an act that is considered a crime against humanity as outline by the United Nations*

We had an amendment that banned alcohol for fuck’s sake… but we can’t get basic fundamental human rights in there? Fuck me…

[darlingbudsofrae]

Neil Josten Appreciation Post

Foxes Appreciation Series : 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 ||

Alright, let’s just start this by addressing the big elephant in the room: everyone loves Neil Josten. EVERYONE.

If you don’t, you’re lying. 

Okay, first up- I’m glad this is getting addressed more on AFTG tumblr but Neil is literally so much smarter than the fandom gives him credit for.

Like yes, he’s a little dumdum on the social aspect of things (you could argue he kind of has a low EQ but also not really, I would argue that later)

but that doesn’t dismiss that he is smart af and that he can kill you and make it look natural if he wants.

For example, he literally outrun and hid from the mafia for years. Like, that in itself is an obvious point but we often forget that he did this at a very young age.

Like, he was presumably what? 16?? (when Mary kicked the bucket?) And kid was already playing hide and seek pretty well with a freaking mafia.

He does not get enough credit for this.

The survival skills it takes- the mental strength to survive as a runaway and technically he’s also homeless- at freaking 16, that’s just insane.

Also, let’s not mention the fact that it takes skills to forge official papers and all that.

We also do not talk enough about Neil and how he freaking have to relearn an entirely new position just to play exy.

I don’t think most remember that he’s actually a backliner, but have to play as a striker because it was the only available position in that local high school he attended in Millport, and that was how Kevin saw him so he was recruited as a striker.

We also additionally do not talk enough about how Kevin “literal and figurative Son of Exy” Day found potential for court in Neil “I’m a backliner but I’m playing striker because it’s the only thing available and I’m an exy junkie” Josten who only played it for like a year or less. 

Like yeah, Kevin said he needs more training but it’s not even Neil’s official position. 

The talent on this man- I cannot, he is such an icon. 

Aside from his great survival skills and being literally great at picking things up- he’s also like freaking academically smart.

Like that also doesn’t get enough credit- I mean, he does math for fun.

Frankly, I think if you did Kumon or if you had an awesome teacher you could also do math for fun (I know I did) but this should be noted with the fact that he didn’t have proper schooling.

He went on a run at a really young age so there is no way he received formal education.

Which means he is naturally like really smart.

He’s also a polyglot. And the languages he has under his belt are all freaking difficult to learn- like, no kidding: French, German, and he can assumingly speak intermediate Spanish, and we don’t even have an idea if this is all the languages he can speak.

Also, he and Andrew learns how to speak Russian, right? Like, that’s crazy.

The brain on this man and the power that he has- my son, I am so proud.

I mean, for all we know- there’s more than that and the fact that he’s like 18 at TFC screams supremacy.

This is where I argue about his EQ but Neil is crazy perceptive.

It took him like freaking 3 seconds to figure out the team dynamics the foxes have, and how to work against it.

He later figured out how to make it all mesh together.

Like the way he do things isn’t conventional but reading him analyze his team despite his lack of empathy really makes me shudder.

Like, this kid is so freaking smart. I remember reading his thought process for the very first time and being like, okay- I definitely did not think about that.

The main problem with his EQ though is that he doesn’t know how to process positive stuff when he’s involved, but when he’s the outsider- his perspective is so amazing.

Like again, he kind of lacks empathy but the way he understands things and is just so sharp is just noteworthy.

I’d argue he doesn’t understand social cues and “modern teen things” but he isn’t so completely clueless on the social aspect in general as to not manipulate an entire team of misfits with issues to work together.

He’s literally the key to unity in AFTG. Even Dan says so.

Also, the way he puts things into play- like he’s a master manipulator, and I love that for him.

We do not talk enough about manipulative Neil, like I just really love manipulative characters in general so much- especially if they’re just owning it. 

I mean, he freaking manipulated Andrew and Aaron into therapy. Kind of evil but also wow. (just a sidenote, please don’t force people into therapy lol)

Going completely dark for a second, Neil also has a freaking high pain tolerance.

The amount of horrible things he went through in the books were just so sad and the fact that he just kind of moves on from it? That’s just completely oh my gods.

My poor summer child, even if you can kill me at any given time, let me just hug you for a second with consent.

Everyone also gives shit about Neil’s fashion choices and granted it is said he kind of bags the homeless looks but the fact that he values utility above all else-

Yes, we stan a resourceful king. 

Lowkey though, am I the only one who appreciate Neil’s average style?

Speaking of style- I love the way Neil narrates. Like, the way he doesn’t give much attention to how the character looks- it’s just so realistic?

Because if I’m talking to a person in real life, there is no way I am noting how his blue polo makes him kind of casual but clean-cut and how his brown eyes is as warm as my morning coffee. Like, who even does that?

The thing with Neil’s narration is that it’s just so authentic- like it easily engages the readers and the way he gives importance to every thing the same way, it really makes it easier for the reader to discern things objectively, y’know what I mean?

He just has that quality in a main character and narrator- he’s laidback and sarcastic but not trying too hard, and he’s just really easy to love.

Like, I normally don’t like narrators/main characters in books because I favor a side character more or just because they’re annoying, but Neil Josten is legit lovable. 

At the same time, he’s also a really well-written character. Like, for all the technicalities I point out in AFTG, Neil is an asshole. He’s not perfect and I don’t 100% love everything that he does and I love that.

He’s a flawed character but he gives you something to root for- and I just really want to appreciate his characterization for a second. Most books make their characters’ flaws not even their fault to put a check to the flawed character but at the same time still have that perfect character. Eeww, no- give me real flaws to work with.

He’s one of the realest protagonists I ever read.

Like people give him shit for wanting to hide but also choosing to play a nationwide-discerned sport on an infamous collegiate team but for me it’s kind of realistic.

Because I think we, as human beings, also do things we love too much regardless of logic. I don’t know, like it’s kind of funny the way Neil is written but I honestly didn’t see him joining Palmetto as a loophole.

Like, just think of all those successful people who hid their identities via pseudonym or other necessary means to do things they weren’t expected to do or weren’t allowed to do.

For me, his character was really just looking for excuses to play his favorite sport a second longer and if anything, that’s just kind of sad.

But also, his dedication and love to exy is really admirable- like I never understood it but the way he literally does everything to stay on the court for a second longer just makes me want to root for him.

On a random note, Neil may not have an eidetic memory like Andrew’s but the way he memorize most phone numbers by heart? 

Bruh, I don’t even have my phone number memorized and I freaking have it for two years now. 

He also memorizes every twists and turns at every trip, every exits at a room he enters, and most people’s tics upon the first meeting, and other things and that’s just crazy perceptive but also really crazy on another level.

Also, we don’t get much ace/demi representation and out of the few I’ve consumed, demi Neil Josten validates me. He’s legit my favorite character that belongs in the ace spec in books.

I just really love Neil’s character so much- he’s just so amazing.

One thing I always appreciate about Neil Josten is that while he’s not a total angel (sadly), the way he loves the foxes- like he legit tried to mend the team and make sure everyone is going to be okay before walking straight to his death- like I’m with Andrew on this one, what a fucking martyr. Why are you like this and why am I crying?

Neil Josten is by all means not soft, that much is established, but the way he’s just still as precious and must be protected at all costs-

"You know, I get it," Neil said. "Being raised as a superstar must be really, really difficult for you. Always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your family thinking you're worth a damn off the court—yeah, sounds rough. Kevin and I talk about your intricate and endless daddy issues all the time."

I love him, your honor- where can I file this adoption papers and do I have anything else to sign?

[collisiondiscourse]

meet you in the middle // bkdk (ch. 306) fic

Katsuki meets him at the edge of the world.

Standing on the rubbles of a once-thriving city that his people had called home, Katsuki sees him at a distance. A lone figure, standing beside broken statues that overlook a cliff of failures and broken promises. Katsuki sees him at a distance and feels something inside him break like a dam of something unmentionable. The glass beneath his worn combat boots crunches and cracks like the remains of his heart, every step heavy with the weight of the world around him slipping unto drooping shoulders. He says nothing, knowing the other runaway could hear his approach all the same.

Deep purple bruises set themselves under dull viridian eyes, the mixture of color out of place but lovely all the same. His hair’s a mess--greasy in the way that tells Bakugou he hasn’t showered in days, yet Katsuki would love nothing more than to bury his face in the tangled mass of green. The suit and armor he wears is torn, dented, fractured, dirty; it’s scarred like the skin it tries its best to hide. Deku stands still and watches him approach.

The blond halts in his steps.

In that moment, when red and green meet at the edge of the world, time stops completely. The broken concrete beneath their feet feels like a vast and endless void of nothing, silence wrapping around them beautifully and painfully. Between them, the few meters feel like blocks, to miles, to lightyears apart.

It is endless.

Between them, there is pain and sorrow. There is a hurt so deep that neither of the boys could begin to comprehend it--old scars and fresh wounds mending and tearing open, pace akin to the shift of the weather. Between them, Katsuki can feel things that feel like they should be impossible but aren’t. Between them, Katsuki can feel the contradictions that ripple beneath the surface of their skin.

Between them, Katsuki can feel it all.

The distance is staggering. It chases after the two of them like they had chased each other, something like a curse that pulls them apart while simultaneously keeping them at arm’s length.

Katsuki used to beg for it, he knows. (God, does he know.) He used to spend day-by-day stretching that distance, yanking the string that kept them tied together in hopes that eventually it would snap.

Yet that same distance had become something he’d grown to hate. He hated it in the way that it caused Izuku to close himself to the world and nearly cost him his life when Shigaraki had pierced him in battle. He hated the way it shut doors and cuffed him to his hospital bed when he’d found out that Deku was in a coma.

And he hated that distance the most when it brought Deku all the way here.

“Kacchan,” Deku says, the old nickname leaving his mouth simultaneously like a prayer and a pained gasp of fear. “Why are you here?”

The ‘why’ rings in the blond’s head like the sound of a gunshot, piercing and painful at the audacity to even ask such a thing. Why? Why did I come here? Why did I leave everything I’d ever dreamed of in order to chase your dumbass here?

Because. Why the fuck wouldn’t I come here, Deku?

“I got your letter,” Katsuki grunts out instead. His hands clench and unclench, tired and a little bit pained from his journey to find Izuku as fast as possible. The stupid fucking paper rests inside the pants pocket of his hero costume, setting his insides ablaze and leaving the taste of battery acid at the back of his throat.

“You still shouldn’t have--”

“--Shouldn’t have what, Deku?!” He inevitably yet suddenly explodes. The green-haired boy startles from across the building’s roof, jaw shutting with an audible click. “Shouldn’t have dropped out of UA? Shouldn’t have left every single person that loves me and sent myself out on a suicide mission? Shouldn’t have left my fucking mother without even a proper ‘goodbye’?!”

Deku snaps, “You damn well know it wasn’t that simple, Kacchan--”

“It never fucking is! It never fucking is that simple, Deku! You think I wanted to abandon our class? You think I didn’t care about the fucking fact that I just dropped out of UA and will probably never become a fucking pro-hero because of it? I destroyed my own dreams, you idiot!”

“Then go back!” the other boy replies, furious tears welling in his eyes. Katsuki feels paralyzed, unable to move through the surge of emotion that overtakes his mind. Deku takes a step forward, shaking so hard that the blond fears he might pass out. “Go back, you ass! Don’t let me take anything more from you, Kacchan, just please don’t. I can’t handle something like that! Go back and become the number one hero like you always promised, please.”

(A dozen meters apart.)

Izuku’s voice trembles and wavers, desperation seeping from his figure as teardrops fall to the tarmac below. He stands firmly on his two feet, but Katsuki can feel the way his heart begs on its knees. Bakugou’s glare softens.

“I can’t do that, Deku.”

He sniffles. “Why not?”

Tentatively, Bakugou takes a step forward, pacing himself. He opens his mouth to answer, but can’t seem to find the right words and looks away with a frustrated snarl. Deku’s eyes, red-rimmed with agony, peer up at him through his unruly green hair and the wound on Katsuki’s abdomen throbs with heat.

“...Because. I nearly died for you, didn’t I?” the blond eventually replies. “Because I know you think that that means you have to go and fucking do things alone because you don’t want me to nearly die for you a second time, but that’s exactly fucking it.” Katsuki huffs. He takes another step further, watching Deku crumple to the ground as sobs rack his figure.

“Kacchan got hurt, but it wasn’t your battle. It’s mine,” he chokes out anyway, stubborn as he is in the way Bakugou had grown to admire. As much as the blond’s soul rattles with anger, with hatred at the society that forced his childhood friend to bear the weight of the world upon his shoulders, he forces himself not to shout.

(Five meters apart.)

“‘Wasn’t’, was the word. Now, it is. I’m not letting you do this alone whether you fucking like it or not, shitty nerd.” Katsuki sucks in a breath. “You never gave me a choice, did you? I didn’t have a choice into knowing about your cursed fucking quirk, I didn’t have a choice into you leaving us to fight Shigaraki alone, I didn’t have a choice in knowing whether you’d be okay or not in the hospital after I myself nearly fucking died--and now that I finally goddamn do have that choice, you better make sure you let me have it, Deku.” Another step.

Deku lets out an anguished gasp for air between his hiccups and tears, and wails, “But why? Kacchan, you have the choice to be safe and let yourself win without One for All getting away! Why would you let me bring you more harm like this?!”

“Because you never fucking let me apologize to you, shithead!” The blond succumbs at last, yelling in hurt and in pain. The distance between them is so small, yet every goddamn particle feels like a world’s away in which Kacchan and Deku were made to fall apart. His skin prickles, air buzzing with the energy of a feeling so big contained in something so small. The moment suspends itself in time, fragile as glass and broken shards twice as painful, “I wanted to say that I was sorry, okay?!”

“Kacchan--”

Bakugou growls, “No. Let me say this, Izuku.” He waited, so goddamn long, for an opportunity to say what he wanted--no, needed--to say. The distance that felt like a whole galaxy between them burned something fierce, a serendipitous inevitability that felt like it was reaching its boiling point as the world around them reduced to ashes. The blond musses up his hair and exhales heavily, letting his angry demeanour calm for Izuku’s sake.

“I used to resent you. So much.” Katsuki starts. He’s close enough to Deku that he can see the subtle way the shorter boy scrunches his brows together, letting out a shaky breath of incredulousness. “When we were in middle school, I tormented and bullied you under the guise of hating you for something that you couldn’t control.”

“The truth is, that wasn’t why I resented you.” He blows out a breath. Deku looks up at him in shock, so Bakugou ploughs on. “I resented you because I didn’t understand you. At that time, I couldn’t understand how anyone, especially someone virtually powerless like yourself, could somehow still be a better person--hell, a better hero--than I was.”

Ruby red eyes gazed at the horizon.

“I always thought myself to be the best at everything. Always knew I was destined for victory. That hasn’t changed,” Katsuki swallows as Izuku pulls himself back on to his feet. Now standing, Izuku looks at him as if he’d suddenly had the revelation of his life, (which, Bakugou assumes, was paramount to this in any case.) “What has changed now though… is that I think I finally get it.”

He coughs.

“... I think I finally get you,”

(Two meters.)

“Katsuki… I’m--” Deku swallows, eyes shiny again as he tries to compose himself. He nods at the blond and in that instant Katsuki knows he’s been forgiven a long time ago. The distance tugs at the pit of his stomach, feelings of something warm and strange writhing inside. What once was a flood of misunderstanding that crashed and pulled the two of them apart had dried into a lively valley. Deku takes a step closer.

“But it isn’t just that anymore,” the blond is quick to blurt out. He looks at Deku and for once instead of a regretful past or an ongoing development, he thinks he sees a future.

“If this were all for atonement, I wouldn’t have left UA like you said. It’s… deeper. I’m workin’ on it, but there’s just something that pulls me to do this. It pisses me off, but it also makes me want to keep you at an arm’s length.” Katsuki shakes his head at the bullshit that spews out from his own mouth.

“I don’t fucking know what it is, but I know how it makes me feel.”

Izuku stares into his eyes, wide and innocent in a way that used to make him angry but now only makes him… dazed. “And how does it make you feel, Kacchan?”

He huffs a laugh of rueful acceptance. “Fucking weird. Like I suddenly want to chase you to the ends of the fucking earth just to make sure you’re alive. Like I want to be close to you again and again and again even in our next fucking lives.”

Katsuki takes another hesitant step forward.

“I want a lot of things now. I want shit that I can’t name but I sure as hell know won’t relate to becoming the number one hero. I want to keep you within sight, keep you close and alive because of the fact that it’s you and nothing else. I want…”

(Three feet.)

The distance around them is reduced to a little less than an ache. Issues like theirs aren’t solved overnight, but for the small distance they have between each other it feels less like a curse and more like the moment before an inevitability. They can’t quantify all that they are to each other--can’t begin to measure it in fickle things like centimeters or miles or inches or lightyears--but in that moment Katsuki supposes one could label what they have as ‘love’.

He’s never spoken this much in such a short amount of time, never let himself be wordy when his concise speech was efficient and easy. Yet, something about freckles and scars and green hair makes him want to run his fucking mouth off and list his every feeling under the sun. The vice-like grip over his heart that had been there since the moment he’d woken up in the hospital eases a little, and Katsuki’s broken heart feels like it is coming home.

(Two feet.)

“You want…?”

Katsuki looks into Izuku’s eyes, really looks. He looks and he sees life and salvation and something that he’d been missing for so long that tasting it for the first time has left him wanting like a man in a desert. He reaches out an arm, now fully within reach and gives Deku a pleading and weak stare that says everything and nothing at once.

“I want everything that I can get. Everything you can give me. No matter what the cost.”

(One.)

Deku crashes into his embrace, pulling him close and meeting Katsuki somewhere in the middle as the chase finally fucking stops. To Katsuki, it feels like the birth of a star as the warmth engulfs him fully, setting alight to every one of his nerves. The feeling of holding Deku fills him with all the words he cannot name and it feels like he’s reached some impossible height at the top of the world.

The war has not been forgotten, and the road ahead of them is long, but the distance between Kacchan and Deku--Katsuki and Izuku--is now nothing more than a physical concept. The hug blurs the line between the two young heroes, shaping itself until it is indistinguishable where one ends and the other begins. There is a sensation, one that is burning like an inferno but comforting all the same because at this point in time, Katsuki vows to run after and find Izuku Midoriya in every lifetime after this, in every world that they’ll be in. He vows with all his heart that he’ll be the one to watch Deku while Deku watches the world, to protect Deku while Deku protects the others. Katsuki vows to take Deku for everything that he is and isn’t, wholly and unconditionally because the distance is gone and there’s nothing now that can stop him from following this boy to the ends of the universe.

Katsuki Bakugou vows all this because here, right now, on top of the ruins of a city he’d once known and arms full of a boy he’d been trying to chase for a lifetime--Katsuki comes home.

(Zero.)