#fic: EE

[gvnner]

Dear Ms. Addams,

My name is Enid Sinclair, a journalist with Nevermore Magazine. I have been assigned to write an exclusive piece on your upcoming novel. I would be honored to discuss your work and your journey as an author. Please let me know a convenient time for you to chat.

Best regards, Enid Sinclair

read on ao3

[atdawn]

—  Time takes more than it ever gives.

[btsydtrash]

Euphoric Endeavors [20]

vampire bts, poly ot7 x uni student yn

Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus’ most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth.

Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger.

It’s too bad that they can’t seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.

(angst / smut / yandere / fluff / gore)

Masterlist / i dont have a tag list / find me on twitter  /  word count: 5.06k

(AN: Hi, all! This story is actually already posted on AO3. But, I decided to post it on here. I have almost 50 chapters of this story up over there, so I’ll slowly be adding them onto here too)

tw: mentions of physical abuse, abandonment issues, allusions to masturbation, anger issues

Waking up the next morning, the last thing you expect to see is a wall of honeyed skin bracketing you in place.

Hoseok’s sleep-slack face is above you. The older man is laying on his stomach, one arm bent so his cheek can rest on it, the other stiff by his side. You notice, idly, that he looks infinitely younger when he’s asleep. There’s no bravado here, just him, resting, relaxed – at peace – and you wish you could see the sight every day, considering how beautiful he is.

Unconsciously, you catalogue his features, burning the slightly pointed tip of his nose in your brain. His high cheekbones and sleep-swollen lips imprint themselves in your head, and you couldn’t forget this sight even if you tried. His lashes are dark and long, and his hair is a mess of curls atop his head, exposing his forehead. He had put a headband in, apparently to keep the strands from his eyes.

Entranced, you reach up, barely touching his skin, to trace from the corner of his eye to his jaw, reverence practically shining in your eyes. He sniffs in his sleep, burrowing deeper into the safety of his arms

“Are you awake now?” A rough voice asks from behind you, making you jump out of your skin. Yoongi is staring at you from where he had been laying, content to just watch you sleep. When you had woken up, you had twisted away from him, making him pout childishly. Now, though, your attention was back on him, his lips quirk up in a private smile as he remarks, playfully, “You look like you had a good night.”

“My head hurts,” you complain, pathetically, wanting to cover your eyes with your hands. You ask, frowning slightly in confusion, “How did I get here? Why am I in bed with you guys?”

You don’t feel even remotely unsafe, but the fact that the last thing you remember is jumping onto Jungkook’s back in the back yard is disconcerting.

“You’re awfully clingy when you get drunk,” Yoongi remarks, light-heartedly. He sits up, the sheets pooling at his waist, and you notice that his shirt is too big, showing off the pale expanse of his collarbone and shoulder. It makes your mouth feel drier than before. “You wouldn’t let Hobi go to sleep on the couch, so he spent the night in bed with you.”

With burning ears, you feel yourself frown. You really ought to stop drinking so much.

Still… something about the set up of the bed makes you snicker.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re in bed with us too,” you remark.

He shrugs, expression passive. “It looked comfortable.”

“And, was it?” You enquire, rolling onto your side to glance up at him. “Comfortable, I mean.”

He glances at you, meaning imbued heavily in his gaze, and he nods. “Very.”

Cheeks pinking quickly, you drop your eyes to his shirt and you finger the smooth material, to distract yourself. “Is this Joonie’s shirt?”

He looks down at it, pulling it away from his body, before sleepily nodding. His eyes are puffy, almost half-way closed, but he seems well-rested, still floating contentedly in the vestiges of slumber. He explains, “We always wear each other’s stuff. No big.”

Feeling somewhat envious, you simply nod and move to sit up too. Hoseok’s grip tightens on your waist and he makes a noise of dissent in his sleep, brow instantly furrowing.

“He’s just as clingy as you are,” Yoongi says, a rough chuckle tumbling from his lips. He slides out of bed, scratching his scalp, messing up his already chaotic blond nest and mumbles, “I’ll go get you something to eat.”

“You don’t have to, Yoon,” you reply, cosying up to Hobi. You feel like being lazy and being so close to the dancer’s warmth makes your stomach-ache feel more manageable. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

The blond snorts, giving you an uninterested look that has you shutting up with an audible clack of your jaw. He rests his knee on the bed to press a finger to your nose, mischievously, before he comments, lightly, “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to, sweetheart.”

And then he’s gone, backing out of your space and disappearing to the kitchen to whip up a quick breakfast for you to eat in bed.

Hoseok makes a soft noise in his sleep, like a mix between a sigh and a groan, before he snuggles up closer to you, so your back is flush with his chest, arm tossed over your middle. You relax into his hold, letting the soft puffs of his breath against your ear lull you back under the fuzzy blanket of exhaustion. You feel yourself succumbing to the urge to fall into your own dreams once more…

That is, until you tense up all over when you feel something hard and hot poke in your lower back.

Jerking away from the throbbing heat, you feel your face flood, instantly, in embarrassment. You curse yourself for being so skittish, but you aren’t used to being in such an intimate setting with another body, used to a quick and mostly unsatisfying romp in the sheets, followed by a swift exit and an awkward Uber ride back to your dorm room. This, however, feels intimate.

You think, mind whirring, it’s just the morning, he can’t help it. It’s perfectly natural. You’re the one making it weird. Just get up normally and he’ll let you g-

“Don’t move so much,” Hoseok grumbles, voice thick and rough and so deep with sleep that you feel tingles break out all over your body. His grip only tightens fractionally around your middle and you feel him pull himself closer to you, if that’s even possible. “You’re so warm, sunshine.”

“Mphm, Hobi,” you grumble, struggling to worm your way out of his steel-like grip. For someone who’s half-asleep, he sure likes to hold on tight. You feel bad for the plushies that Joon says he steals off his bed. You say, quickly, trying to avoid rubbing against his arousal, “I need to pee!”

“Liar,” he whispers against the skin of your shoulder, dry lips pressing briefly against your skin, so light that it feels as if he’s kissing you. He still sounds out of it, disorientated even. “You just want to leave me.”

Huffing, you wiggle harder, actively pulling yourself away from him, but he only lets out a growl of disapproval. You say, “When you wake up properly, you’re going to be so embarrassed.”

“Nothin’ to be ‘barrassed about,” he sulks, nosing into your neck, as if burrowing for more warmth. “’s normal for me to hold you like this.”

That’s where you snap, nails gripping into the meat of his forearm and shake him.

“Pressing your hard dick into my back is the antithesis of normal, Hobi,” you snap.

At that, he lets you go as if your body had just spontaneously combusted, nearly throwing himself away from you, a wall of cold air replacing the blanket of warmth that you had just been swaddled in. You barely have time to miss the feeling before you see his face crack into something you could only liken to horror.

“’m sorry!” He stammers, sitting up but covering himself with a pillow, cheeks so ruddy that you are sure that if you touched them, they would be burning with warmth. He mutters, twisting his fingers in the deep green covers, “It’s morning and I- I wasn’t thinking.”

Feeling guilty over his embarrassed appearance, you say, “It’s fine. No harm, no foul.”

He slides out of bed, shivering a little at the cold of the bedroom, before jerking his thumb to the bathroom, awkwardly. He avoids your eyes as he mumbles, “I’ll go, uh, take care of this.”

If you didn’t think your cheeks could burn any hotter, you were wrong.

“Jerk!” You toss the plushie at his head, which he ducks out of and, giggling, disappears into the bathroom.

The shower flicks on in the distance and you drown out the potential sounds of the bathroom by getting out of bed and exploring the house. Your head aches, but there’s two tablets and a bottle of water on the bedside table that you neck down instantly.

“Thanks for the medication, Yoon,” you say, softly, as you walk into the kitchen. The blond had been standing at the sink, his slender back facing you, draped in a mass of material and his narrow waist hidden from your sight, as he chewed listlessly on some of Taehyung’s mango chips.

He offers you the bag with a small smile and the two of you giggle, remembering the time Tae almost killed you in the backseat because you ate them all without asking. Well, Yoongi took most of the blame, but you definitely enjoyed more than your fair share.

“Sit with me while I cook,” he declares, and even though it should sound like a question, you wouldn’t be able to deny him even if you tried.

You hop onto the sideboard and kick your feet as you watch him expertly flit around the kitchen, snapping off the yellow washing up gloves after he had finished hand-washing the mess from last night and moving to the oven. Open flames burst from the hob and within minutes, he has a mass of bubbling hobs on the go, without issue.

“There’s a reason why I’m not allowed in the kitchen by myself,” you joke. “I would have burned myself to high hell already.”

He glances your way, briefly. “You don’t cook at all?”

“I try,” you say, before tossing another mango chip into your mouth. “My Mom says I’m hopeless with anything domestic.”

“That’s okay,” he answers, unbothered. “I’ll teach you. And anything I can’t teach you, I’ll do for you. There – no problem.”

You don’t know why but his words make your stomach feel as if a medley of butterflies had just been released and you can barely hide your smile before you ask, “Can you sew?”

“For that, you’ll have to ask Jiminie,” he says, begrudgingly. “He’s always been the one to adjust our clothes since we were kids.”

You inquire, curiosity piqued – the idea of a mini-Jimin sewing up holes in the knees of Joon’s scruffy jeans, or the split seams of Jin’s shirts when he started growing too big for his clothes, making you coo internally. “Who taught him?”

“My Mom did,” a voice calls from the hallway. Jimin saunters into the room, already dressed, hair still damp and a towel draped around his shoulders. He looks at you, eyes bright with concern. “Are you feeling better? I heard our baby got too drunk last night.”

The nickname doesn’t even give you pause anymore, considering the medley of monikers they’ve given you against your will. Despite the fact that you’re actually older than Taehyung and Jungkook, and therefore the furthest from the baby of the group, you feel warmed by the pet name.

Pouting, you nod. “I feel much better. Yoon made sure I got tablets, and he cuddled me last night. Hobi, too. It was nice.”

“And I missed out on that?” He asks, quirking his brow as he approaches you. He nudges your knees apart in a surprisingly daring act, and wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his nose to your collar. “You smell like hyung.”

“I did sleep in his bed,” you mutter, shyly. Unable to stop yourself, you grab the tail end of the damp towel and sop up the trails of water that have dripped from his hair and lead down the neck of his shirt. You complain, “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“You’ll keep me warm,” he murmurs against your skin. “Sleep with me tonight, won’t you, YN?”

Yoongi snorts from where he’s frying some kimchi pancakes in the small pan. “Now that you’ve started this tradition, I hope you don’t plan on sleeping alone any time soon, YN.”

Jimin huffs at him. “Don’t start, hyung. You got to sleep with her, so did Hobi-hyung. And Joonie got to sleep in her room. I haven’t even been in her room. You guys are being so unfair.”

He’s practically stamping his bare feet on the linoleum before you let out a light giggle at his childish, bratty antics. “Fine, fine. I’ll sleep with you tonight. I hope you don’t mind that I talk in my sleep.”

He looks at you, skin glistening and smelling faintly of aloe and eucalyptus, directly into your eyes, holding your gaze for a beat. “As long as you’re with me, honey, I won’t mind if you do anything.”

////

After breakfast in bed with Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi all piled around you like a pack of baby bears, watching one of Hoseok’s shows on Netflix (“Shut up, Jimin! If I miss any more of this because of your infernal mouth-breathing, I’m going to shave your eyebrows off. Again!”), you find yourself being whisked away by a well-dressed Jin.

“I’ve got a meeting with my father,” he says, once you make a face at his expensive suit and tie, even though it’s definitely Saturday and it isn’t even noon. “Do I meet your expectations, petal?”

You roll your eyes at his smug expression, but you nod, excitedly. “You really do look like an idol.”

“God didn’t give me this face for no reason,” he says, gesturing to his puffy lips with a wink. “Isn’t that Jungkook’s shirt?”

You look down at the button up that you had been handed by a sleepy Taehyung (really, he’d shoved it into your hands before he fell back asleep in your lap, dribbling into the crease of your thigh), and nod, vaguely. “Maybe?”

“It smells like him,” he comments, lips turning down. “I should have given you my shirt. Quick, YN. Get changed into mine.”

“Why?” You ask, laughing at his conspiratorial look. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I just- I want you to smell like me, is all,” he replies, pouting. “You spend so much time with the others… I don’t get to be with you as much.”

You move to deny his statement, but honestly, you can’t. You say, reaching for the sleeve of his blazer, “How about… After your meeting, how about we go for some food together? Just us?”

The way his eyes glitter at your words makes it all worth it. Despite the rolling of your stomach, the brilliance of his smile makes you feel as if you had somehow saved the nation.

“Let’s go, YN,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the apartment. He doesn’t let go of your hand the whole drive to his Dad’s building, holding it over the console, running his thumb along the seam of your index finger, only letting you go to change gears, before swiftly knitting your fingers back together, as if it had always belonged there.

Arriving at his father’s building, you feel significantly out of your depth.

“It’s huge, right?” The tall man says, staring up at the skyrise with barely concealed repugnance in his eyes. “Just being here brings my mood down. Knowing it exists makes me feel sick.”

You let out a soft sigh, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He looks down at you, as if realising you’re still by his side. “I’ll be here for you, you do know that, right?”

He lets out a barely-there smile before setting his jaw. “I’ll be back out in an hour or so. You can sleep in the backseat, if you want.”

“I’m not coming in?”

He looks over at you, surprise raising his brows to nearly his hairline. “You want to meet my father?”

“I mean… I’m not opposed to it,” you mumble, feeling strangely put out. “You don’t want me to meet him?”

His smile dims slightly. “I want a lot of things, petal. I can’t get all of them.”

Then, he’s off, jaw hard and his expression so distant that it makes your heart clench in your chest.

You grab your phone and fire off a text to the only person you can think to ask.

Joonie… Jin and his dad have a bad relationship, right?

He replies within moments. Is he with him now?

He just left for the meeting.

Shit… Okay, after the meeting, he might be a little scary to you, or distant. But he doesn’t mean it, okay? His Dad brings out the worst in him.

Can I ask why?

Jin-hyung is the only one who can tell you that, baby girl.

Okay. Thank you for being honest.

Anything for you.

Deciding to sleep rather than stress out over the occurrences in the room hundreds of meters in the air, you slide off your shoes and curl up, using your coat as a blanket. You don’t think Jin will be back for a while, so with that thought in mind, you end up drifting off, the image of a happier, content Seokjin being the last thing you see.

/

The door slams open and closed with such force, the car shakes, waking you with a start. You look over, eyes still bleary with sleep, to see a murderous-looking Jin, eyes black with rage and his jaw wound so taut, you’re sure it hurts.

“Jin-”

“Not now,” he growls, tone clipped and ice-cold.

The sight and sound of him makes your jaw snap closed, shoulders stiffened with discomfort and, honestly, a small bit of fear. You care for Jin, a lot more than you feel is normal, but this side of him, you aren’t used to.

He glances at you, briefly, before letting out a soft sigh, wincing at the sight of you – withdrawing from him. He reaches across the console, and with a quick squeeze of your hand, he says, quieter, “Please, YN. I don’t want to take it out on you, so just… give me some time, okay?”

You nod. “Okay.”

His eyes plead with you to understand. “Petal…”

“I’m giving you space, Jin,” you say, removing your hand from his and curling it in your lap, the skin burning.

He sighs, returning his hand to the steering wheel and pulling away from the building. Although you are moving away from the cause of his stress, it feels as if the stiffness in the air only grows the longer you are both in the car. Rather than moving towards the dorm, you realise that Jin is driving you in a direction that you’ve never been before.

“What-” You catch yourself before you make another mistake by bothering him, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring, obstinately, out of the front window. You drive and drive and drive, until you start to feel sleepy again. And it’s only when you actually do drift off that he puts the car into park and you hear him shift his body to face you. You glance around – you’re in a fairly empty car park atop a hill, overlooking the Seoul mid-afternoon skyline. You can imagine that it would be awfully beautiful at night.

“Can you look at me, petal?”

You refuse, staring straight ahead.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Please, YN.”

A small part of your anger melts at the way he says your name.

He twists his hands in his lap, nervously, and shifts in his seat. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Then, you shouldn’t have spoken to me like that,” you reply, simply. “I didn’t realise me being here would have put you in such a bad mood. I wouldn’t have come if I knew.”

“Don’t say that,” he implores, weakly. “I always want you around.”

“Sure, you do,” you sass back.

He reaches, limply, for your wrist, and you against your better judgement and bruised ego, you let him take it.

“You’re so precious to me, to all of us. I just-” He lets out a disappointed noise in the back of his throat, holding onto you like a lifeline. “Sometimes, I wish I had never been born.”

This piques your interest, having never experienced this side of him. “What do you mean?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, simply choosing to focus on the veins beneath your skin, tracking them obsessively with his eyes. Not in hunger, but as a reminder that you are here, that you are present and with him in the moment.

He continues, “I’ve always been the oldest of our cluster, meaning I had a lot of responsibilities from a young age, like most hyungs do. I did what I had to do, I loved my little brothers and cared for my cluster, following Namjoon’s orders and being the best I can be. But… Why is it never enough, YN?”

You turn to him now, brow puckering as his eyes lose focus and he becomes consumed with his thoughts.

“Why is it never enough for him? Nothing I do, nothing I say. It’s always nothing but shit to him. He looks at me like he wishes I were dead,” he says, and the honesty in his expression blows a hole in your chest. You feel as if he’s ripped your heart out with his bare hands. You knit your fingers with his, shuffling forward slightly so your knees are touching.

“I told you my brother is supposed to be CEO of the company in my father’s stead, right? Well, that’s unlikely to happen, considering he’s busy fucking through half of Europe, blowing our Dad’s money on hookers and expensive blood stimulant drugs. He won’t have to take that responsibility until he’s ready, just because he’s the oldest. But me? I’m forced to go to a university I hate, study a degree I despise for a man I would much rather never see again.”

“Jinnie…”

“He never sees my brother as in the wrong, no matter what he does,” he complains, grip tight on your hand. “But me, if I get anything less than a hundred on a test, or if I miss class because I have to work because I would rather starve than take his fucking money, I won’t hear the end of it for days.”

“He tears me down until there’s nothing left,” he growls. “He makes me so angry, and then I do the same thing that he always does. I get distant. I feel nothing inside, because that’s better than feeling everything and breaking down so pathetically like this.”

“You aren’t pathetic, Jin,” you tell him, pushing some of his dark hair out of his watery eyes. “You’re so strong and so important to me. To all of us.”

He lets out a shaky breath, hands trembling. “Just living in that apartment, knowing that he’ll willingly throw it back in my face, makes me so angry. But I do it. Because the boys need somewhere to live. And I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let them suffer because of my stupid pride.”

He cards a hand through his hair, forehead damp with sweat. He’s overwhelming himself into a panic.

“I hate him, YN. I hate how he never acknowledges anything that I do. I hate how he always takes my brother’s side,” he says, and when he finally looks at you again, his eyes are laced with pain and you practically feel his soul crying out for you. You grab his hand tighter when he chokes out a sob. “I hate that I keep wanting him to be proud of me.”

“It’s okay, Jin,” you soothe, crawling over and opening your arms for him to wrap himself around you. Patting his back, gently, you rub your hand in small, rhythmic circles, and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. “It’s okay to want his approval. He’s your father, this successful mogul, and the person who you have been looking up to for your whole life. You don’t have to feel stupid for wanting him to say he’s proud of you.”

He lets out a broken whine at your words, pulling your hand to his lips as he breathes against the skin. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

You pull him in close, pressing dry kisses to his temple and letting him rest his face in the crook of your neck. The angle is awkward because he’s so much bigger than you, but he seems to need it regardless.

“You’re okay.”

“You’re safe.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You aren’t alone.”

“We care for you.”

“You’re so strong.”

You keep the one thing you can feel bursting from behind your lips to yourself, too scared to ruin the atmosphere of trust that he had given you. You feel his tears stain your shirt, but you pay it little mind. This is about Seokjin – the one person who you had always looked at as a pillar of strength and playfulness. Little did you know, there was a maelstrom of pain and anguish hidden behind his bright smile.

Once his breathing calms and the tears have dried on his cheeks, you take a good look at him, watery eyes, pink cheeks, red-raw lips from where he’d bitten them to keep the sobs at bay, and you feel your earlier displeasure dissolve into nothingness. How stupid must you have been to have held something so petty over his head when he had needed comforting so much.

“Honey…”

He scoffs, lightly, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve, staring down at his large hands. “You and Jimin are the same, only using that nickname when you feel sorry for me. Or, when you want something.”

“I’ll call you honey all the time from now on,” you promise, reaching for his hand. He looks at where your hands are joined, sniffing a little more, and your heart aches at how much of a pathetic figure he seems, all scrunched up in the corner of his car. “You can talk to me, honey.”

He groans, staring at the roof of the car. “My brother isn’t exactly business-friendly. He’d wreck my Dad’s company in a year, tops, but my father has a very traditional mindset. He thinks because hyung is older, he deserves to run the company, no matter how bad his personality is. Unfortunately, that means I’m the one who has to pick up the slack, as his younger brother.”

He turns your hands over, playing with the ring on his finger, idly. “I didn’t want to do business, you know.”

“I can tell,” you say, softly, stroking his fingers in a gesture of comfort. “What did you want to do?”

He lets out a humourless laugh. “I wanted to act.”

And, honestly. It makes sense. Jin’s personality favours the ostentatious, the bright and the loud, the melodramatics of theatre fit his persona perfectly.

You ask, “Wanted, as in past tense?”

He glances at you. “It’s not like there aren’t supernatural actors. Lee Minho is a selkie.” His eyes widen, slightly, and he murmurs, contritely, “Oh, I shouldn’t have told you that. Well, you won’t tell anyone. I trust you.”

It doesn’t even surprise you anymore, so you simply smile at his admission and continue to draw soft shapes on the back of his hand.

“The first time I saw my father laugh was the day I told him I wanted to act,” he says, resentfully. “He said that there was no way someone as uninteresting as me could entertain anyone. He said that I should only focus on what I was good at – studies – and that I should throw my stupid dreams of acting out of my mind before he beat some sense into me.”

You decide, instantly, that you hated his Dad more than you’ve hated anyone else in your life.

Cautiously, you ask, brow puckering, “He didn’t ever… you know, hit you, did he?”

“Sometimes,” Jin replies. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. It wasn’t like I didn’t deserve it. I was a flighty kid, even more than I am now, so… Yeah.”

“Nobody deserves to get hit, Jin,” you tell him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m really… I’m just sorry this happened to you.”

He smiles, softly, and wipes his thumb across your cheek, catching a stray tear and flicking it away. “Don’t cry for me, YN. I’m made of tougher stuff.”

“I’m not,” you grumble, holding his hand a little tighter. “I’m upset for you.”

He chuckles, wetly, at your scowl, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a quick kiss there. “You’re so cute.”

His smile slowly disappears as he stares out at the city in front of the two of you, hands intertwined over the console in the car, before he sits up a little straighter. “Once I graduate, I’m leaving.”

The bottom of your stomach falls out at his words, instantly, at his words.

Drawing away, slightly, you ask, “W-What do you mean ‘leaving’?”

“I don’t want to stay here anymore,” he admits, quietly. “I’ve already talked to Joonie about it, and he’s willing to let me go.”

“Seokjin.”

He looks over at you, surprised by the hard tone of your voice, and his eyes widen even more at the sight of the tears in your eyes. “What’s wrong, petal?”

“You can’t leave us,” you tell him, gripping his sleeve, as if he’s getting ready to go away now. “W-What are we supposed to do?”

“I’m not leaving forever, petal,” he says, softly, reaching to tuck some hair behind your ear. “Just a year or so. To find myself, you know? It’ll be good for me.”

You still can’t make sense of the agony rushing through your system. The idea of not seeing Jin, of not hearing his loud laugh or seeing the mop of dark hair poking out of the burrito of blankets in the living room at 3am when both of you can’t sleep. Or, holding his hand in the dark under those same sheets and feeling his slow heartbeat pulse against your ear, lulling you to sleep.

You can’t say anything, not wanting to guilt him for wanting to explore, but also being unable to force yourself to support him either.

You simply can’t imagine him being absent from your life, it just doesn’t make sense.

- end -

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20)

[extant-exhaustion]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "extant-exhaustion "?

Well, first of all, thank you so much for your patience! I know it took me seven weeks to reply to this Ask! I agonized over my list (also, the holidays happened, which kept me busy). But I finally narrowed it down, so here we go, in no particular order:

My Top 10 Favorite Fanfics

In Another Life by LittleLuxray Haikyuu!! | T+ | 23k | Bokuto/Akaashi | angst, sickfic | It's famous for a reason. Truly one of the best pieces of writing I've ever read, including published works—I've rarely cried so hard or been moved so much.

died in my dreams by MTrash Haikyuu!! | T+ | 10k | Ushijima/Tendou | futuristic/cyberpunk AU, opposites attract, reluctant work partners to friends to lovers | fantastic characterization, really cool conceptually, a story about trauma and healing and finding your person

the weight of water by wordstruck/@redluxite Haikyuu!! | M | 6k | Iwaizumi/Oikawa | angst | Painful, soul-crushing heartbreak, but so, so beautiful. As someone who's experienced loss and grief, this story is visceral and the accompanying art haunts me.

Come and get lost with us by boxofwonder Haikyuu!! | M | 150k | Hinata/Kageyama, Daichi/Sugawara | action/adventure, Medieval AU(?) | unlike anything I've ever read before or since; a really masterful integration of an enormous cast and a plot that unravels with absolutely zero fluff or filler

shimmer in your shine by zenelly/@zenellyraen Hunter x Hunter | T+ | 91k | Leorio/Kurapika, Killua/Gon | American roadtrip AU | This story made me cry over a fist fight between Leorio and Illumi in the parking lot of a Red Lobster in Arkansas.

The Myth of Mankind by MistressEast/@mistresseast Promare | T+ | 63k | Galo/Lio | action/adventure, romance | masterful worldbuilding, kickass fight scenes, intrigue galore, falling in love while preventing mass murder? yes, please

A Second Chance To Say by KazimaKuwabara/@kazimakuwabara Yu Yu Hakusho | M | 92k | Yusuke/Kuwabara, Youko Kurama/Kuronue | action/adventure, hurt/comfort | ft. Kuronue's eternal sass and unwavering friendship, the slow burn of reincarnated already-in-love KuwaMeshi (because Kuwabara doesn't remember it), somewhat menacing levels of intrigue, and Hiei finally winning MVP of emotions on Team Urameshi

Don't Blink or You'll Miss It (Lift Up Your Head) by umisabaku/@umisabaku Kuroko no Basuke | M | 81k | Kagami/Kuroko, Kasamatsu/Kise, Midorima/Takao, Himuro/Murasakibara, Aomine/Momoi | super powers | This story and its accompanying series are so cool and so unique. The characterization is amazing and the worldbuilding is stellar.

neither fish, flesh, nor foam by twoif interactive on Twine Kuroko no Basuke | Kagami/Kuroko | angst, Little Mermaid–esque, interactive storytelling | incredible, but also devastating; a story about how sometimes our doubts can destroy not only ourselves but the good things we build; one of the coolest things I've ever interacted with as a story, a true tour de force

Transient Shadow, True Light by seafoamist/@seafoamist Kuroko no Basuke | M | 322k, WIP | Kagami/Kuroko | angst, hurt/comfort, time travel, historical (Edo Period) | If you talk to me about this story, I will go absolutely feral, because it is my current obsession and the only WIP that is on this list. I'm straight-up insane about its quality and depth. I can't even put this story into words. It knocks the wind out of me.

And lastly, my URL doesn't actually have a story behind it! It's basically just my life, haha. “Extant” is an adjective meaning “ongoing/still in existence” and “exhaustion” is pretty obvious. Essentially, I like alliteration and thought it sounded better than "tired 100% of the time."

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Snacks of Us

Pairing: No-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Texas-native Joel finds out you've never been to a Buc-ee's and needs to fix it immediately. That's it.

Warnings: Just fluff! Kisses. Pet names.

Other stuff: Reader is addressed as her, but most other descriptions are avoided. Joel is taller than the reader. Can be read as plus-sized, but not mentioned.

Word count: 1.1K

I went to Buc-ee's today and my imagination ran wild. Do with this what you will lol

__________

"Whaddya mean y'ain't never been to a Buc-ee's?" Joel asked, incredulously.

"Joel, I'm not from Texas. How the hell would I know what Buc-ee's is?" You replied.

"Y'don't even know what it is!? That's it. Grab your purse, darlin'. We're gettin' you to a Buc-ee's." 

"Have you noticed your accent slips out more when you're all worked up about Texas things, Joel? It's cute."

"No, I haven't. Now, let's go. You're gonna love it. It's the biggest gas station y'ever seen." His eyes grew wide and he demonstrated the vastness of Buc-ee's with his arms.

"Wait… it's a GAS STATION? You're taking me to a gas station for our date?" You raised your brow at your boyfriend.

"Just trust me, darlin'. You'll love it." He pulled you by your hips and placed a kiss on your reluctant mouth.

You sighed. "Hmm… fine. But can we at least get lunch while we're out?" You batted your eyelashes.

"Course. What do you think we're doin' at Buc-ee's?" He winked.

"Joel!" You gasped. "I am NOT eating some shriveled up gas station hot dog that's been sitting out all day." Your mouth gaped open and you crossed your arms.

"Just trust me!" He grabbed you by your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder.

"Joel!!!" You squealed, giggling and smacking his back. "Put me down! You're gonna hurt your back! I'm too heavy."

"Please, sugar. You weigh less'n my work equipment," he smacked you on the butt.

You scoffed, "yeah right."

Joel set you in the passenger seat of his truck. "Well, y'are. At least until we fill y'up with some beaver nuggets," he winked, giving your belly an affectionate pat and closing the door.

"Beaver nuggets???? Joel! What is that?" You laughed as he rounded the truck toward the driver's side.

_____

Joel pulled the truck into the Buc-ee's parking lot. 

"This. Is.. a gas station?!" You stared, mentally counting the amount of gas pumps and eyeing the giant building with a large beaver on the wall.

"Told'ya to keep an open mind! Let's go," he hopped out of the truck.

The two of you walked in and your mind was blown. They had everything, all with a cute little beaver on the label.

Buc-ee's chips. Candy. Cookies. Fudge. Sandwiches. Coffee. Every soda imaginable. Beaver nuggets, which Joel grabbed two bags of.

He pushed a cart as you ran around like a kid at Christmas. "Babe! Look at this cute little Buc-ee plushie!"

"I know, darlin'. I told'ya you'd like this store." He smiled affectionately at you. You tossed the stuffed beaver into the cart.

"Whoa, whoa, Sugar. Our house can't hold many more stuffed animals, it's practically oozing fluff as we speak."

"Oh shush, Joel. I need him," you said while throwing two sets of matching Buc-ee pajamas in the cart.

"Two?" He raised an eyebrow, looking at the tags.

"One for you. One for me," you kissed his cheek, skipping merrily toward the hoodies.

Joel shook his head, too lovesick to object to the matching flannel pajamas covered in cartoon beavers.

An older gentleman walked past Joel and gave a look from Joel with the cart, to you holding up several hoodies and comparing. "First time?" The old man laughed.

"Unfortunately," Joel rolled his eyes, laughing. "I underestimated her shopping ability when I decided to take her here."

"Been there," the old man pointed to an older lady, presumably his wife. "I'm Arthur." He shook hands with Joel. "My wife Marlene and I have been comin' here for years and she's the same way." He looked at her lovingly. "You two remind me a lot of us when we were younger. You make a lovely couple."

Joel smiled and looked over at you, where the older woman, Marlene, had walked up and began talking to you. Your smile lit up, and the old lady clapped her hands together once, excitedly helping you decide between two sweatshirts. Your eyes found Joel and you both shared a smile. 

Joel looked back at the old man and grinned. "Thank you, sir. She's definitely a keeper." The old man patted Joel on the shoulder, leaving to meet up with his wife and kissing her on the cheek as they walked away.

You scampered over to Joel, holding up both hoodies. "I couldn't decide, so Marlene suggested I get both," you giggled.

Joel rolled his eyes, unable to stop the smile on his face. "Alright, throw 'em in the cart. But we better get outta here before I have to take out a loan."

"Thank you for taking me here, baby. I had a lot of fun, and I'm sorry I gave you a hard time earlier," you pulled his collar, lowering his face so you could kiss him on the lips.

"Anytime, sugar. I'll never get tired of seeing that smile." He kissed you back, rubbing his thumb across your cheek.

"Now, whaddya say we go grab a couple sandwiches and sodas, then head back and watch movies in these matching pajamas the rest of the day," Joel suggested.

You nodded excitedly, thrilled with your boyfriend's willingness to participate in your shenanigans. "YES!"

Joel headed towards the checkout counter, struggling to reel you in from looking at more merch. He already took out a large deposit for the ring hidden in his dresser drawer, and this was easily going to cost at least a hundred more.

The two of you walked to the truck, him smacking you on the butt as you climbed in the passenger seat while he held the door open. Shaking his head, he thinks back to the older couple. How Arthur said you reminded him of them in their younger days. Sitting in the driver's seat, he smiled at you, taking in your features.

"What?" You asked, giggling and running your hand through the curls by his ear. 

"Nothin' darlin'. Just thinking about us and how much I love you," he smiled.

"I love you too, Joel" you pressed a kiss to his lips, running your hand down to his neck and pulling him in deeper.

"Thank you again for today," you grinned, pulling away.

"Anytime, Sugar. There'll be plenty more where that came from," he replied, stealing a quick glance at your empty ring finger. Maybe tonight will be the night, he thought.

"Think we'll ever be like Arthur and Marlene?" You asked him, taking a slight risk at the question of your future while interlacing your fingers with his right hand.

He looked over at you, kissing your knuckles. "I hope so, Sunshine." He kissed your ring finger. "I hope so."

___________

So anyway, yeah I might have a problem lol. But I hope you liked this. Let me know what you think ❤️ thanks for reading.

[hehkshew]

I have this prompt idea:

Vox, having been around Valentino and Velvette, insists he’s fine and is not going to catch whatever cold ridden illness that they have. But by the end of the week, he’s now showing symptoms just as much as they were. Valentino smirks as Vox finally admits defeat. The three of them, Vel and Val now recovering slowly, resign themselves to a week together, each one blaming the other for starting it.

[Out Of Service] (H/azbin H/otel) V/ox, V/elvette, and V/alentino [1300 Words]

This week, it felt as if everything had been going wrong. The entire past few days had been fully manic. Even more so than the way it typically was. There were employees around every corner, worrying as they tried to keep up with the increased work load and requests.

Why they were all suddenly so panicked? Because it just so happened that two of three were bored. And when they were bored, shit got tense fast.

There was a lot to do and a lot to manage and to keep up with it, there was no time to get distracted. 

Which was why if Vox had half a mind he would’ve turned around, at the first sounds of a hacking cough. But he didn’t. 

Valentino laid sprawled across out on the couch, sunglasses hazardously laying dropped on the floor in the path of any unfortunate unfocused sinner who’d undoubtedly step on them. He looked pathetic, no trace of cocky appearance he usually displayed.

Other side of the couch Velvette looking pissed and utterly wrecked as she tiredly scrolled through her phone. Eyes half lidded, groaning quietly. 

He should’ve probably assumed that after hearing the sound of coughing ongoing randomly the past two hours.

They looked exhausted.

Val’s eyes drifted tiredly, widening a little as he pushed himself up with a smirk. Sniffling as he purred, voice a little too rough than normal.

“Amorcito!” He called low, grin widening as he blinked slow. The eye bags were practically visible from here, “I didn’t think you’d come, Baby.” He mused, Velvette glancing up from her phone before glancing away, sinking deeper into the blankets. “I feel awful.”

Vox narrowed his eyes slightly, eyebrows creasing as he breathed out, “Oh please, Val. You can handle a little cold.”

Valentino dramatically groaning as if he’d been betrayed, back of his hand to his forehead, which was noticeably sweating. “Ugh, heartless, Voxxy. Absolutely heartless.”

Velvett made a noise of annoyance, sniffling as she sunk deeper into her blankets, snapping her head down as she stifled a harsh sneeze into the blankets.

“Oh for Hell’s sake,” Vox groaned, making the gesture of pinching his screen, “Don’t tell me you’re sick too.”

Velvette only sniffled, shooting daggers as she spoke. Voice sounding more broken then Valentinos, grabbing a tissue box. One in one of those stupidly fancy cases as she chucked it at Valentino’s head, the moth making a pained “Oww..” whine.

“It’s his fault, I feel like shit.”

Val barking out a laugh, one that dissolved into a coughing fit, the sound rattling in his chest. “Doll, you did not get this from me. You were coughing before I was”

“This is totally all his fault, fucking infected everyone and now hes gonna make you miserable too.” She snapped, only half serious. rolling her eyes as she slumped deeper into the couch.

Vox scoffed somewhat amusedly at the two.

“I at least have a decent antivirus system.” That’s something he pointed out a lot, his excuse to work through things, something the two couch ridden overlords tried not to groan at, Vox shooting a glare back. “Unlike you two, I don’t get sick.”

Valentino coughed, sitting up as he hit at his chest, clearing his voice as he sniffed sharply, humming with almost a look of challenge. “We didn’t expect to get sick either Mi amado.”

“I’m not gross.” Vox challenged, ducking as Velvette threw the nearest object near her towards Vox’s head. “And I’m more efficient, I’m built to handle this.” He snapped.

The two weren’t convinced, Vox groaning as he stormed out and left. A look towards each other as if they knew.

“I don’t get sick.” He muttered. Something he continued to tell himself.

It was nearing the end of the week, and it was safe to say that something had changed.

Vox wasn’t uncaring, he’d been there. For them! Bringing them stuff every hour or so, a routine most likely used in a prison more than a caring nurse sort of way, but he was there every hour for a check in. To make sure they hadn’t died, or whatever.

They were still sick of course, but it wasn’t as bad now. That was… An improvement, and it was good!

And everything was fine…! And maybe he might’ve felt a little sluggish, and even when it was dead silent he could hear the sound of buzzing in his ears. But those were just quirks! Definite normal stuff he always had.

Computer shit!  

He tensed, screen flickering as he faltered. Lowering the clipboard he’d been holding, head snapping down harshly as he sneezed. Spark of electricity shooting as it zapped, wincing as the lights in the penthouse went out for just a moment. 

That was the downside about all of this, everytime that happened. It tended to affect anything electronic, and Much to Valentino and Velvette’s misery, their devices were no exception.

Inhaling sharply again as a second one overcame him. 

 “Hhh-HHK̴̬͉̬̮̗̝̓̑̕ͅS̴̜̥̞̰̟̈́̿̊̎̋͒̃̄̽ͅͅͅZ̶̮͓̬̗̣̝͗̃̀Z̴̧̠̫͙͔̬̲̦͕̣̋͘͜T̴̩̠̀͆̀̚!̷̧̡͈̖̗͇͓͇̳̏͆͠!!”

A surge of static zapping as another blue spark zapped, this time hitting Valentino in the chest. Moth Demon giving a sharp yelp as he involuntarily wrapped his wings around himself, an undignified tumble off of the couch.

“Voxxy, the fuck!” Valentino yelled, gray smoke rising from the zap in his jacket. Velvett pulling herself back as she brought her knees to her chest, intent on avoiding by being zapped by any of that.

“Not sick, huh?” Unamused, twinge of a grimace on her face as she watched his screen short circuit. 

“I’m not– hHHK̶̊̋͐̒̿͊͂́͜S̶̨̪̭͖̙̩̠̜̹̓̌ͅH̴̟̯̗̄ͅŹ̸̢͕̰̙̱̖̦͔Z̴̢͓͍̲͉̈͐̀̒Ţ̸̥͕̮̎̔!!” This time, the lights in the entire penthouse immediately blacking out into darkness.

“Yeah, real convincing.”

Vox groaned, looking as flustered as his expression was able to manage, arms crossed over himself as he pointedly ignored the inspecting looks he was receiving. Even he couldn’t argue against this one. Huffing as his screen glowed duller.

He did feel fucking wrecked.

With a heavy sigh, he slumped against the kitchen counter. “Fine. Fine. I have a cold.”

“Told you,” Velvette hummed, sniffling pleased to be right. She was always right.

“Welcome to the club Baby.” Val grinned widely, lifting his wing and blanket as invitation for Vox to join them under it. “Surprise, Tesoro. You’re not invincible.”

Vox shot him a withering glare, muttering as it lacked its sharpness. “Shut up.”

And with the admittance of all of them feeling horrible, they could feel horrible together. Remaining time being spent huddled together. And that’s how it was the next few days.

Arguments over who was worse, arguments over each other hogging blankets and arguments starting after every sneeze from Vox short circuited another one of their electronics.

“I can’t believe Velvette got us all sick.” Valentino muttered, biting back his grin as she sat up pissed off, Vox groaning as he pulled a pillow over his screen, knowing the argument to ensue.

“Me?! It was you, you were the one coughing over fucking everything. And I wash my hands constantly. Unlike you with both your fucking gross men piss fingers.” Grimacing with a shooted glare, burying further into them despite it.

Vox groaned, “Does it even matter? We’re all suffering now because one of you idiots couldn’t not be walking disease.”

Velvette sniffled weakly, head laid against Vox’s lap. “Let’s all just agree to blame Vox for electrocuting us every time he has a fit.”

Vox glared embarrassed, preparing to move up from the couch and leave. “I’m going to bed.” Valentino stopping him as he pulled him back down.

“Ah, ah, ah. You’re stuck with us.”

And he didn’t have room to argue, blinking tiredly as the movie on the screen began to play. The three watching with various levels of exhaustion. 

And it was nice.

“Hhh.. Hih.. hḰ̴̼Z̵̮̎Z̴̠͙̾H̷͇͊ͅT̵̪̔̽!̷̹̐̀” 

Velvette’s phone buzzing and flashing before going dead.

“Dammit Vox!” Velvette groaned, dropping the broken device onto the carpet.

“Whoops,” For the first time all day, barking out a laugh.

With the movie playing, they couldn't help the exhaustion overtaking them. Slowly breathing as they began to fall asleep, and for the first in a long time, together they could rest.

[honestlydarkprincess]

all i can think about is the 118 soaking wet and in danger, like i just ,,,, ugh, make them suffer (affectionate)

[chaoticghostgremlin]

Patient Zero prompt idea for you:

Val wakes up with a slightly runny nose that also feels congested. As the day goes on, he starts feeling worse and worse. Vox and Velvette tell him to rest. Vox takes care of him (he also hates that Val doesn’t cover is mouth when he coughs or sneezes plus Val just throws his used snotty tissues everywhere). The next day, Vox wakes up feeling a little off, but not enough to be concerned about. As the day goes on, he starts showing signs of the nasty cold that Val has. Instead of resting however, Vox tries to go along his day as if nothings wrong, that is until Velvette hears Vox sneezing (he doesn’t kno that she’s home) and she confronts him and tries to force him to rest, of course Vox is a cocky stubborn man. Velvette now has to take care of both men, one is absolutely disgusting and the other is stubborn and in denial that he’s even sick even tho it’s obvious. The next day, Velvette wakes up with a sore throat, and a stuffy nose that progressively becomes worse throughout the day, when sickly sniffly and sneezy Vox notices Velvette, he suddenly feels bad for her as she tends to get the worse fevers. Now all 3 of them are sick and easily get on each others nerves.

Sorry that’s all I can think of. Also sorry that this is so damn long 🤣. Doesn’t have to go this way, you can change it to how you want it, but here’s my prompt for it!

Cw : Contagion , mention of Val's poison, a bit of descriptive mess

Thank you for prompt!! I went a slightly different direction and Voxxy will caretake in part 2. I haven't written much in years but this was fun

Patient Zero part 1

The hell flu had been very bad this flu season and half of Val's employees were out sick. But not before they so generously made the porn overlord so sick. 

On a Saturday morning, Val blinked his eyes open slowly . He couldn't see shit so he put on his glasses but his vision was still so blurry. He had a wheeze to his breathing and he couldn't breathe out his nose. He swore if Vox brought home another cat he was going to spank him. The throbbing of his head indicated this wasn't allergies though. The moth groaned and noticed his partners werent in bed. He slowly got up and stretched , stretching out his aching wings and body. The shift in his sinuses from getting up made him sneeze twice "ah-ah-ah-ah?? " he fanned his face and was released uncovered towards the ground "ACHEWWW ACHEWWW , conyo, disculpe" .He sprayed towards the ground, a faint red mist of poison making it obvious when he didn't cover.  This was going to be a long day. He put on a fluffy housecoat and shivered.

 He went downstairs to find Vel and Vox eating breakfast , a coffee and plate set out at his seat for him. "Gracias, mis amores" Valentino said , then let out a few coughs as he sat down. Velvette shot him a glare and said "you better not get me sick I have an important fashion show coming up, cover your mouth mothman". Val was very nonchalant when it came to keeping his germs to himself ,which most of the time made him patient zero. "Disculpe, meñeca " Val said, though he didn't mean it.  Val picked at his omelette , not feeling very hungry. The taste of the coffee brew was lovely on his sore throat. He sniffled obnoxiously from the steam. Vox gave him a look and Val blushed .  Vox wordlessly  slid him the tissue box they kept on the dining table and Val said "thanks mi amor". He got up , grabbed a few tissues and went into the hallway. The moth demon blew his nose very wetly and loudly. Velvette cringed but at least he walked away. Valentino came back and sat at the table putting the used snot filled tissues beside his plate on the table . Vel rolled her eyes and said "I'm leaving before patient zero makes me sick", grabbing her bag quickly and putting on her shoes. She then walked out the apartment, going towards her studio.

 Valentino said "patient zero? That's dot true mi amor" , looking offended. "She has a point , baby boy. You kind of don't keep your germs to yourself and get spray everywheres" Vox said, shrugging. "But you like my fluids Voxxy "Valentino said with a wink and Vox sighed. "Just be careful alright? Don't overwork yourself " Vox said and kissed the moths forehead. What did that earn him? His arm getting sprayed with germs when Valentino went into a coughing fit. "Ewww, maybe you should stay home actually. You sprayed meeee. I have to run my antivirus protocol immidiatly. I am NOT catching this shit Val" Vox said, looking at his robotic arm that had specks of red and spray on it now. The tech overlord said "I have to go to work, try not to contimanate the living space love" and tentively gave the sick overlord a hug. Valentino melted into his touch, shivering and appreciating the warmth which Voxxy radiated. Vox ran an anti virus protocol , zoning out and making sure his body wouldn't catch this. He didn't hear the moths breath hitch and then all of a sudden Val sneezed loudly "heh-?? USHIEWS ISHIEWW ISHIEWWW CHEWW HXNEWW, oh disculpe amorcito. " . The moth had gotten Vox's chest, spraying him with snot and red mist. "I'm uh gunna go change,Jesus Christ. Damn you bitch. Salud.youre lucky you sneeze so adorably”The tech overlord muttered and lead the shaky moth to the bedroom.

The lanky moth leaned against his boyfriend and shivered as he was guided go the bedroom. He had a harsh coughing fit, mostly uncovered but pulling his robe up to his face at the last second. The air had germs and red mist in it around them. Vox sighed and said “Can you please make an effort to cover your mouth? I have important meetings pequeña pollila” . “Mm sorry heh-ISHIEWW ISHIEWW V-voxxy. Disculpe” Val said sleepily and aimed the sneezes into his robe sleeve. He cringed as it left red specks but wasn't obvious since his robe was red. The porn overlord let the tv man tuck him in bed . 

Everytime Val was patient fucking zero and it pissed him and Vel off. The tech overlord felt a bit of pity for him though and got him some water , pain relievers, fever reducers and cough medecine. He also brought a few boxes of tissues into the bed and put the meds and water on the bedside table for when Val would wake up. The moth snored and Vox leaned over, taking off his sunglasses. Val shivered and curled up in a ball as Vox kissed his forehead then left for work.Vox went off to work and hoped against all odds that he wouldn't fuckin catch this thing.

—------------------------------------

Notes : My favorite part of this was adding Spanish . I'm not fluent but figured Franglish is similar to Spanglish enough. Hope someone enjoyed. Again, my grammar isn't the greatest due to learning disabilities and sometimes forget words in English . 

 Meñeca=doll

Mi amor = my love

MI amores= my loves 

Disculpe= excuse me 

Conyo=damn 

Amorcito= my love,my darling, my honey 

Pequeña Pollila= little moth

[misalpav]

ram being in love with the daughter of temple priest and even though he isn't very religious he still went there for sandhya aarti once he saw her one jhumke had fallen and finally able to gather some courage he decided to approach her and they had a talk or something.

also one more request don't use y/n can you pls use the name vaidehi ?

anon!!!! I love this prompt and I hope I did justice to your vision <3 (I'm on a writing high rn so I can actually write fast for once would you look at that?)

yemito ee maya

Two years after Governor Scott's death

Ram slowly walked away from his house, lost in thought. He could feel the wind in his face, rearranging his carefully styled hair and ruffling the shirt he just finished ironing. The sun, shining brightly in his eyes, slowly began its journey back to the horizon as kids laughed and ran back home from school. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, letting himself relax. There was a time when he didn’t know what the word relax meant, how it felt to feel his heart rate slowing and have time for himself. Now that he did, he never quite knew what to do with it. Sometimes, he would make a beeline to Bheem or Sita’s house to talk to them or have dinner together, other times, when he didn’t feel like socializing, he would sit at home and read a book. On days like today, when he just couldn’t get himself to pay attention to the words on a page, he’d huff and put down his book to go for a walk, thinking about how much his life and his India has changed.

“Ram anna, chai thaaguthara?” (tl. Do you want to drink chai?)

He turned his head and saw a group of kids at a street food stall looking at him eagerly and quickly recognized all of them from his colony. His mouth curved into a smile as he forgot about his earlier thoughts and started walking towards them, his hands checking his pockets to find his wallet.

“Aa thaguthanu. Anna, okka chai isthava?” (tl. Yes, I’ll drink some. Can you give me one chai?)

As the seller made his chai, he pretended to look in his wallet for money while secretly watching the kids, and smiled with a glint in his eyes as the kids’ faces fell, realizing he didn’t get them anything. He pulled out a 100 rupee note from his wallet and handed it to the vendor, who looked at him confused.

“Migilina paisalu tho pillalu ki vallaku ishtam ainadhi edhaina ivvandi, inka mitha meeru pettukondi.” (Give the kids whatever they want with the remaining money, and if there’s anything left you can keep it for yourself.)

The kids’ eyes widened at him in disbelief, and they quickly ran to the vendor before Ram could have second thoughts and asked for bajjis, dosas, lassis, and whatever else they could think of. Ram chuckled and shook his head, taking a seat at one of the tables and enjoying the warm taste of chai. He was completely aware the colony moms would make their displeasure very well known to him when he went home, but he figured he’d take it if it meant upholding his role as every kid’s favorite person.

The kids sat around him and became engrossed in conversations about their classes, the math teacher they despised, the cricket game they played last night, and a few other things and Ram sat back and listened attentively to their stories while tending to his chai, zoning out only once in a while when the conversation was directed away from him. 

At one of these moments, he heard a laugh and the jingling of bangles coming towards them, and he turned his head subconsciously. His jaw dropped as his eyes rested on the source of the laughter: a woman, busy in conversation with a younger girl, walking towards them wearing a beautiful black and yellow saree, her hair tied back in a neat braid, with a book in her hands. As they walked up to her, he suddenly stood up, catching the woman’s attention. When she turned to face him, he held his breath and examined her eyes, bordered with kohl, and the bright red bindi above the bridge of her nose. Silver jhumkas adorned her ears glowing in the sun and the smell of the jasmines in her hair radiated off her, and he was lucky one of the kids pulled on his hand to get his attention. The woman’s face softened as she smiled, turned away from him, and walked away, and he quickly reoriented himself, telling the kids he had other work to do tonight and started in the direction the woman had left towards, promising the kids they’d play cricket together another night. 

Ram speedwalked for a few minutes and finally caught up to them, trailing only a few meters behind, but he couldn’t bring himself to approach her. Internally, he was cursing himself out for making this seem easy to Bheem all those years ago, when he himself was such a mess at it. He wished Bheem, Sita, Jenny, the kids, or literally anyone was with him right now to tell him what to do and how not to embarrass himself. His shoe stepped on something and he tripped over, clasping his mouth to make sure no sound came out. When he turned to see what caused it, he found one of her silver jhumkas lying in the dirt. Ram couldn’t believe his luck and he picked up the jhumka, taking it as a sign from the universe to meet her. He then followed her, his faith in himself somehow reinstated simply by the fact he had something of hers in his pocket.

The women approached a Shiva temple, removed their shoes, and entered, and Ram stopped outside. He hadn’t been inside a temple since his father was killed by the British. Everyone close to him had tried to reinstate his faith in god, but he always shut down the idea by stating that if god was real, his father wouldn’t be dead, and if god is real and let his father be killed, then he had every reason to be extremely angry at that god. Ram almost turned around and left, but then he saw the woman returning outside, and froze, realizing she was staring at him. 

“Intha dhooram vachi lopadiki raara?” (tl. You came this far, won’t you come in?) she asked. Realizing he was stuck, he slowly took off his shoes and stepped into the temple.

Once he was standing next to her, she asked him what his name was and he replied saying his name is Ram. She introduced herself as Vaidehi, and he said the name back to her, appreciating the way it rolled on his tongue. They sat in the back of the temple, and Vaidehi opened her book and started reading while he examined her features, and noticed she had removed the other jhumka. Ram hated being interrupted while reading, but he also needed to close this silence somehow, so he craned his neck to see what book she was reading. 

“Avunu, gudiki vachi em pustakam chaduvuthunnavu? Adhi intlo guda cheyyachu kadha?” (tl. What book are you reading in the temple that you can’t read at home?)

That beautiful laughter that first got him to turn his head towards her escaped her mouth again and she told him his father was the head priest and she enjoyed attending the sandhya aarti whenever she could. She told him about the book she was reading, History of Dharmashastra, and they both fell into an animated conversation about the development of Indian ancient societies and their dreams for a modern and independent India. She said India needed more men like Alluri Ramaraju and he smiled and agreed, hiding the joy in his heart from hearing her say that. He never bothered mentioning that he was Ramaraju because he found it refreshing to talk to people normally without being treated like a savior everywhere he went. 

Suddenly, a man, who he assumed was Vaidehi’s father, stood in front of the garbhagriha and everyone in the temple stood up. They recited bhajans, and while Ramaraju knew all of them from memory from his childhood and his mother, he quietly listened to Vaidehi’s voice. At the end, he took the prasadam from one of the other priests and walked back outside with Vaidehi. She asked him if he didn’t know the bhajans, and he replied saying he did, but he enjoyed listening to them much more than singing them, opting to leave out the truth about his father. They talked more about their interests, exchanged addresses, and talked about meeting again. As the sun finally set, she told him she needed to leave, and that they’d definitely meet again. Ram watched her walk away and put his hand in his pocket, touching the jhumka he never returned, whispering, “I promise we will.”

---

(a/n) should I make this a series lmao I have so many ideas for where this could go. also, I haven't been to india in like 6yrs now (curse the pandemic and then school/work) so idr if 100 rupees is acc a reasonable amount for the chai scene 🗿

open tag list: @obsessedtoafault @rambheem-is-real @lil-stark @manwalaage @contemporarykafka @sinistergooseberries @budugu @the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see @hufhkbgg @eremin0109 @eenadu-varthalu @hissterical-nyaan @how-is-it-in-london @gauri-vishalakshi @sada-siva-sanyaasi @bromance-minus-the-b @darlingletshurttonight @voidsteffy @itsfookingloosah @mad-who-ra @fadedscarlets @justmeand-myinsight @rasnak2 @ghungru @irisesforyoureyes @vijayasena

I copied a rrr tag list I literally haven't used in a year and tried to remember as many old urls as I could. if you want to be added/removed from the list pls lmk <3

[gatzbright]

“you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars” — e.e. cummings

[amywritesthings]

also i just wanted to say i'm really sorry if anyone follows me and gets annoyed at my reblogs 😭 i try to answer anyone who is kind enough to leave me a message/tag on my fics because the feedback is like... the #1 reason i post publicly but i get SO nervous i'm annoying with it

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

heyyy love. your writings always make me smile when I see them on my dash! so i have an idea for a little something… we all know quaritch hates the na’vi people so much. he probably feels some degree of discomfort and distaste of his body now that he looks like one of them. so a human reader who he befriended is out with him on a mission in the forest, and he makes a self degrading joke about an aspect of his new body while they are out there together. reader scolds quaritch for being negative, and miles tells her to stop bitching at him, so she shuts up and ‘shows’ him how perfect she thinks he is 😏

Eeeee! Yes! While i've been writing for lots of recoms atm I will always fall over myself to write Miles (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Recom!Quaritch x Human!Reader

The face in the mirror disgusted him. A nauseating mix of a face he'd been proud of and the most hated enemy. For every familiar corner there was an equally alien curve. There was just so little of him clinging to these bones.

His ears now tall and ever twitching, despite their clipping. His teeth sharp, making every charming smile a threat. He even had a fucking tail.

There was one shining light in his life. Someone that made it worth rising each morning, that he could think of in the dark of night to stave off the nightmares. Y/n. His human, his anchor. Not that he told them that, no he wouldn't talk about his silly little problems to anyone. He was a man after all and hadn't his old man beat that lesson into him.

Y/n was easy to love. Beyond being a face of humanity that still looked to him with respect and kindness. Y/n was fun, they were smart and they didn't take his shit. No despite his towering physique you'd jut your chin out, giving him the same back or worse.

"Keep up, we ain't out for a leisurely stroll darlin" He called over a shoulder. He smiled softly to himself, watching them struggle over a fallen branch.

"Some of our legs aren't two meters long!" you hollered back from atop the log. You beamed, hands on hips in triumph before slipping on the mossy bark. Your whoop was caught short, Miles' strong arms catching you before you fell. He smirked at your pouting face, gently placing you on the forest trail. Only his thrashing tail giving away the panic he'd felt.

"Sorry I ain't perfect sweet-cheeks, some of us are monsters." He jested, a dry chuckle passing his lips. Miles didn't know why he'd let that slip. He turned before he could catch your reaction, storming ahead. It was so hard to keep a wall around you. Inviting eyes always teasing out sides he didn't know he still had.

"Hey what big ears I have!" He started, an almost hysterical laugh following.

"What a horrid nose. What sharp teeth. All the better to scare you off." He babbled, god why couldn't he shut up. He bit his tongue, the slight taste of copper compelling his lips to cease their flapping. It was just a joke, you'd know that. You heard him laugh he wasn't being serious, Miles kept telling himself.

"Miles?" He heard you call behind him, trying to catch up. He kept moving. No, he was fine. He didn't need anyone, he was being stupid, he wasn't so superficial as to be bothered by his appearance. Hell he'd kept those scars all those years! But this was different wasn't it. He wasn't even human anymore. He was no better than those creatures he fought.

Miles grit his teeth, scrunched his brow to a frown. Anger, he could do anger. Get mad at the foul planet that stole his life, reduced him to this.

"Miles." Your voice was softer now, even through ragged breathes. Light grip on his tail, tugging him to stop, to face you. He stopped but he wouldn't turn. He couldn't. Not now when his eyes stung.

"Miles please." Your hands still held him. His anchor, holding him in place. Dragging him down into the depths of his pain, pulling him through the inky black to the heart of it. Then your touch was gone, spiraling through the currents alone. Pulled and pushed by the tidal whims, lost in the depths alone.

"Miles look at my. I swear I'll climb up there if I have to." His sun spoke, even in the depths the light cut through, brilliant beams illuminating the dark. He crouched to meet your gaze, to bring his face to yours.

In the shadows of his mind he imagined you recoiling. Retreating from his form, his own repulsion mirrored on your face. His eyes met yours, the glassy reflection of his tight features reflecting back. He was tensing his jaw, holding his eyes taught against the tears. Your own flowed freely, lip quivering.

He couldn't take it. The shapes so viscerally wrong, no your face should never pull like this. His fingers buzzed with the need to reach out, to clear away the tears or mold your features into that smile. The one that numbed everything he felt, that washed over him like a balm, soothing every pain.

It was your hands that moved, your fingers that reached his face. You held his cheeks between them, pressing them together. Your brow furrowed, mouth bobbling open and closed before you took a deep breath.

Your eyes met his and he froze. Struck, he'd become stone under Medusa's curse. Your fingers danced across the marble skin, following stripe or glittering freckle.

"No." you reprimanded. "No I won't have you talk like that" your voice wavered. Expression still stern, features pulled, shoulders squared. Authoritative. Miles couldn't help but laugh a little.

"No, I'm serious. Your not to talk about yourself like that. Not even think it." you ordered. Miles let the laugh turn sharp, who were you to stop him. You had no power over this, his pain wouldn't be ordered away by a tiny scientist. Not even if it was you.

"Oh yeah what you gonna do about it." He sneered. He rolled his eyes, looking to the ground. Miles didn't want to do this, he didn't want a cruel word to touch you. Especially not one from his mouth.

"Guess I'll have to show you then." You breathed out. Miles felt his heart stutter, the hot breath closer than before. "Show you how beautiful your are." you finished, lips brushing against his own.

His eyes snapped back, you were so close. Gentle hands followed the peaks and valleys of his face, gentle caressing like he was made of fine china. His ears fluttered and you smiled. Miles felt himself melting into your touch, his eyes drifting shut. Fingers brushed against the sensitive shell of his ears. Your thumb brushing up the length before following back across his cheek bones. The line drawn tenderly under his eyes, cascading down the sides of his nose.

His senses were so heightened, the touch of your hand electric and at once pacifying. He felt a soft velvet against the tip of his nose, the gentlest kiss. Miles half opened his eyes, looking through his lashes at your face. You didn't meet his gaze, still lovingly looking upon a face you adored. He felt his heart sore, lost somewhere in the stars only connected by the thread binding it to you.

The gentle pilgrimage resolved at the corner of his mouth. The final stop on your holy journey. Fingers tracing the outline of his lips, your own parting slightly. Then your eyelids came to rest and you met him.

Kiss like silk moving against him. Miles fired to life at the touch, the spell broken he moved. Hands tangling into your hair, to your cheeks, on their own journey across the curves of your body. His lips parting to let you search more, welcoming you to explore fangs, tongue, whatever you wished.

He drew humanity from you, though your skin, your lips, your soul. In this kiss he was at once recom and Quaritch. The man he was in this body being worshiped, at once a whole made from the two parts. Body and spirit burning with need, drawing out moans he couldn't claim as his or yours.

He followed your lips when you pulled back. Then dragged his forehead across you cheek to its resting place on your shoulder. The moment passed, his mind still reeling from the whiplash. His worst pain to his greatest bliss.

"Maybe I need to insult myself more often." He joked against your throat. You thrust back, face appalled.

"You will not!" You demanded, face scrunching again. He laughed softer, leaning an elbow on his knee, face held up by his hand.

"Promise I won't, if you'll do that again." He drawled, eyeing your lip tugged between your teeth. The hot blush still painting your cheeks.

"Fine it's a deal. Just next time we do it back at base." You affirmed, nodding your head before walking off. Miles rose following after you, wicked smirk pulling his lips over fangs.

"We're gonna do it huh?" He joked, laughing again as you squeaked and hurried ahead.

[no-i-cant-decide]

Just saw the news about Max. I'm completely shocked and so upset. This probably goes without saying (and I know is the case for most of the fanbase on here as well) but I won't be staying active in the fandom once Ben has left.

I want to express all my thanks to everyone I've befriended on here over the last few years, and how grateful I am for all the support on my writing. It's been a wild ride and a blast and a half. Love you 💜

[amaranth]

“let’s torture ourselves with some embarassing stories!”

[loonarmuunar]

No bc the deal with BNHA is that, because of quirks, you can put the characters in almost any and every situation with little to no explanation other than “they got hit by a quirk” or “they have x quirk”.

This ALSO applies to Epithet Erased. You do have to get craftier with it bc the power has to be connected to a word, but you have the same amount of freedom. Cmon y’all we need to get crazy with this

[honestlydarkprincess]

Inspiration Saturday!

okay so no one tagged me and it's not even saturday yet but!!!! i actually had inspiration for inspiration saturday so i'm starting us off

my brain randomly gave me the idea of a lucy/natalia fic for kinktober and i'm running full speed ahead with it and was inspired to make a mood board for it! so, here ya go!

“Penny for your thoughts?” A husky voice came from beside her.

Natalia looked up and saw a gorgeous blonde woman leaning on the bar. There was something familiar about this woman and Natalia tried to place what it was.

Finally, it came to her. “Oh, hi. Lucy, right? You worked with Buck.”

“That’s me,” The beautiful blonde grinned. She glanced around. “No Buck?”

no pressure tagging: @bigfootsmom, @maygrantgf, @lovebuck, @panbuckley, @devirnis, @wikiangela, @shortsighted-owl, @spotsandsocks, @hippolotamus, @transbuck, @transboybuckley, @alyxmastershipper, @buddierights, @prince-buck-diaz, @heartbeatdiaz, @monsterrae1, @roy-kents, @oliverstaark, @useramor, @wolfnprey, @folk-fae, @sibylsleaves, @housewifebuck, @brokenribsdiaz, @cowboydiazes, @911onabc, and @cowboy-buddie 💗