#fucking INFURIATING to get a box and realize its not one of the boxes with a figure like wheres my prize fucker i only drink this brand for

[bunnyb34r]

Making myself drink at least a cup of tea a day, not because I want to be healthier, but because I want the little figurines that are in the boxes of Red Rose tea

[gerec]

Gerec’s Favorite Fics - 2023

Here's a list of some of my favorite fics posted this year. A great big thanks to everyone still writing for this fandom; I know I'm very grateful to have all these amazing stories to read and to share!

Repeat Offenses by populuxe

“Prickly bits aside—hell, for the two of them, prickly bits included—it almost felt like a date. Which is stupid on multiple fronts. Grudgingly buying your ex a meal after he grudgingly bails you out of jail is obviously not a date.”

Five times Charles bailed Erik out of jail—and one time he didn’t.

melt your headaches, call it home by joshriku

Two decades later after the last time he saw Charles Xavier, Erik's children lead him right back to him.

Of course, it's never easy to look at the ex love of your life and realize you're not over them, not even in the slightest.

superposition by borninsideatornado (wip)

erik is a race car driver coming off the worst year of his life. charles xavier may be his last hope.

The Plus-One by populuxe

When Erik grudgingly agrees to play Raven's boyfriend at her terrible family's holiday party, he'd thought the biggest challenge would be staying sober enough to make it convincing. But then he meets Raven's extremely hot—and extremely infuriating—stepbrother, and everything starts to get complicated.

my heart knows your name by borninsideatornado

Once they’ve finally got him in bed, Charles works up the courage to ask if he might stay for a few days, because being rejected can’t be worse than seeing Erik in pain. But Erik only says, “I think that would be good.”

or: charles and erik have been broken up for years, occasionally falling into each other. things might change for good when erik lands himself in the ER where charles works. it’s all a bit of a hanukkah miracle.

This Terrible Desire To Be Loved by riais (jeriais)

Erik clings to his past, Charles detaches from his present. Somehow, they meet in the middle. Modern Au, no powers.

the pride and disgrace by ballantine

I am grand, said Charles. Did you know, I can make people think the sun is shining? I am giving them the most beautiful weather they have ever seen. They don't feel the wind or the rain, only the love of their companions. I am fostering the brotherhood of man, one heart at a time.

“Okay,” said Hank.

twenty four hours from tulsa by intentation

After having self-emancipated (aka run away), Erik's been holing up in a shitty motel while he figures out his next step. When Charles Xavier moves into the room just down the hall, Erik discovers his new favorite pastime: sex.

the pain will remind us of each other by borninsideatornado

It’s always felt alien, the way he feels about Erik. Too big for his body, too much to hold in his heart. But finally, finally, it makes sense.

Because at the end of the world, it’s him. It’s always going to be him. —

when logan lets charles see his future in days of future past, he talks to erik instead.

rendezvous by inthebelltower

“Tell me no,” Erik says. “Tell me to leave.”

Heartbeat by druswriting

People say that it’s a bad idea to be friends with your ex. People say that it’s an especially bad idea to be friends with your ex, if your ex is Erik Lehnsherr.

Unfortunately for him, Charles is an optimist. Unfortunately for him, Charles believes he can make friendship work with anyone. Unfortunately for him, Charles believes no one is beyond repair. Fuck, he’s such an idiot.

Well, at least the sex is good.

Dead Box by ByCandlelight

“We should keep moving,” Raven said softly, and so Erik rose to his feet. There was an ache in his knees that didn’t used to be there.

“Charles would love this planet,” he said unthinkingly, and something shuttered across her face.

Travels with Charles, in Search of America by midrashic (wip)

The world ends, but life goes on—until it doesn't.

Seventeen-year-old Erik Lehnsherr has never left the underground shelter that protects a small band of survivors from an Earth wracked with radiation as its magnetic poles reverse. When the settlement encounters a deadly threat, he embarks on a dangerous odyssey with new arrival, walking encyclopedia, and enormous pain-in-the-ass Charles Xavier in the hopes they can find what they need to save the settlement—before the coming winter or unpredictable magnetic storms bring death to not just them, but everyone they love.

Weak by Sotano (comics cherik)

For an hour he keeps himself alive without a heart, pumping his own blood with his powers. It was never going to last. Magneto dies on the Red Planet.

He's the only mutant in history Charles can't bring back.

Containment by feathershollyandgolly

Guilt swirls within as Charles watches the concrete door slide open. As he enters a hollow prison, both modest and intimidating. He is well aware that what he is about to do is a terrible thing.

Detours Along the Way by AndreaDTX (wip)

Erik Lehnsherr has been elected as the President of the United States of America, the youngest in history and the first ever known Mutant. Charles Xavier, his mate, is right by his side. But as Erik's first term begins, the couple braces themselves, knowing that getting elected is the easy part.

twice saying pardon (In Every World There Is You and Me Remix) by winter_hiems

After the events of X-3, Erik is powerless and alone. By chance, he ends up in an alternate universe – in Genosha, where mutants rule and are safe from harm. In Genosha, there is another version of himself. A version that has Charles Xavier by his side.

Another Love by Mataolma 

One bad day, a stranger arrives at Charles' house. The soldier says his name is Logan and that he was Erik's best friend when they served in the Mexican War. Logan brings bad news: Erik died in the war, and Charles must decide what to do with his life now that the man he loves is gone.

[lunar-years]

Okay because it was briefly mentioned in this post speculating on Roy's parents I really want to hear people's thoughts on Keeley's parents/childhood and why she had no prior family obligations on (Sexy) Christmas!

Similarly to Roy we only get very brief mentions of their existence in canon (and they're notably just about her mum, never her dad):

"I did used to worry I was gonna end up like my mum. She spent years tirelessly working at the same company just for a man to take all the credit. She wasn't brave enough to dream big. So I decided to do things very differently" - Keeley "We didn't open [the champagne] when your mum moved back up North" - Roy

The headcanons I've got are:

Keeley's parents are divorced and she isn't particularly close with either of them. Her mum irritates her literally every time they see one another. Her dad has a new wife and (step)kids he treats as his "real family," and Keeley is always the afterthought; she rarely sees him.

Her mum is extremely conventional and thinks Keeley needs to fit into that same box. She was appalled by Keeley's choice to do nude modeling, refused to talk to her because of it (which Keeley was thrilled by, and once her mum realized that she got even more upset and immediately started calling Keeley up again) and has never treated Keeley's modeling career as a real career.

Keeley moved out of her childhood home asap, like age 17/18 after taking her first modeling gigs. She rented a cheap flat with a bunch of other girls.

Keeley has made some of her choices in part just to spite her, whether its subconscious or not. For instance, if her mum was complaining about her first topless photoshoot, where her nipples were strategically covered by liquor bottles, Keeley made sure the next shoot she signed on for was tits out, no coverage. When her mum complained about that she did full nudes, etc.

When Keeley started working for AFC Richmond it was a backhanded "finally you have a REAL job, thank goodness" instead of "congratulations, I'm so proud of you." everything with her mother is like this

It is even worse with relationships. Her mum thinks Keeley needs to settle down, get married and have kids in that order - none of which are things Keeley has ever intended to do with her life.

her mum was thrilled when Keeley introduced her to Roy because "finally my daughter is in a serious relationship and they will give me grandkids soon" she completely dotes over Roy because of this while asking increasingly intrusive, prodding questions about the status of their relationship. Roy of course sees right through this but is trying his best to stay polite because this is Keeley's mother. The whole thing slowly infuriates Keeley until she's had enough and abruptly informs them they're leaving. this is how roykeeley have the "I never want kids" conversation very early on in their relationship

with holidays like Christmas, at first Keeley would use the other parent as the ~reason~ she couldn't be at theirs for the holiday. Like, she'd tell her mum "sorry, i told dad I'd go to his" and she'd tell her dad the opposite. of course this only works a few times before it's "why do you spend every holiday with the other parent instead of me," and which point Keeley remembered that wait, actually she doesn't give a fuck! and straight up told her mother she isn't coming because she doesn't want to and already has plans with her boyfriend/girlfriend (whoever it was at the time) 🤷‍♀️ slay queen

Keeley is out and proud and always has been, but her mum treats her being bi as another lie she's telling for attention, even though Keeley has literally brought girlfriends home to introduce to her mother before. No matter what she does, her mum maintains that Keeley is only doing it to piss her off and basically doesn't believe her or acknowledge her sexuality, which is understandably very upsetting to Keeley

Bonus ot3: Not to make everything about ot3 but I have a very distinct scene in my head where Keeley introduces Jamie and Roy as her boyfriends and her mum is forcibly polite to Jamie (whom she is meeting for the first time) but then pulls Keeley aside to be like "enough with your stunts, Keeley, how could you put Roy through this nonsense, after he took you back and all, this is how you repay him, by dating someone else?" (because 1. she's adamantly ignoring the part where Keeley told her all three of them were dating, royxjamie included and 2. she acts like Keeley obviously did something to "cause" Roy breaking up with her). Keeley for once is totally speechless and all the retorts she wants to and would usually say die in her throat and she just wants to cry because she's tired of this. Roy and Jamie overhear the conversation and Roy steps in like "okay, that's enough, we're leaving." Keeley has a breakdown in the car before they've even gotten out of the driveway and after that she basically cuts off contact for a long while with her mother, with Roy & Jamie's full support.

[captain-mj]

Cotton Candy Cocktail

BTW this whole thing is a metaphor

Ghost sat at the bar quietly. His friends had forced him to come out. The bar was one of the non human ones which was perfect. 

Ghost had his wings out, stretching behind him. Jason sat next to him, hand on his thigh to ground him. The lighting in the bar was dim. Easy to deal with. His wings glittered brightly as the gold flecks reflected the lighting. 

Rodolfo sat next to Alejandro, the two of them intertangled. He wondered if he had missed something but couldn’t really bring himself to ask. 

Gaz slid on his other side from where Jason sat. “Ghost! How’s it going?”

Ghost took another shot and didn’t respond. He got the message and nodded before leaning into him. Gaz felt cold. Two coldblooded creatures next to each other. Ghost wondered if Gaz could feel him leeching all of the warmth from him. He didn’t mind of course, he just hoped Gaz actually felt the warmth. 

Jason suddenly stiffened, staring somewhere else. Ghost followed his gaz and paused when he saw Soap. 

Oh. 

He looked gorgeous. The only ring on his hand was his wedding ring. But he was decorated elsewhere. Chains on his pants, earrings and blue swirling designs over his arms that Ghost knew hadn’t been there before. Was it bodypaint? It had been so expertly placed. 

“Ghost.” Alejandro said warningly. Only now did Ghost realize he was boxed in the booth, unable to escape quickly. He doubted it was on purpose, there was no way any of them could have predicted this. Especially the part where this meant Soap couldn’t be human. Humans had to be invited and he was definitely alone. 

“Ghost.” Gaz elbowed him. “You’re staring.” 

Ghost hummed, very glad he wore his ski mask. He put his sunglasses on and gave him a thumbs up.

“Planning on eating him?” Jason asked, smiling at him, though it seemed tense. 

Ghost wasn’t sure what he was planning to do honestly. Part of him wanted to just stare. 

Then the angry part wanted to tear him to shreds. Bar be fucking damned. Eat him alive and stain the floor. 

It had been… two days? Three? He hadn’t gotten out of bed for a while after the little encounter that morning. Eventually Alejandro made him get up and eat. He was pretty sure they had taken turns. There had been someone around. Buzzing like a fly to get his attention. It was equal parts infuriating and nice until they started trying to get him to talk. Then it was painfully clear they were making sure he didn’t have another “incident”.

The incident. 

No one ever shut the fuck up about the goddamn incident. 

The glass in his hands shattered, going right through his gloves. Blood dripped down, staining the table.

Maybe it’s fitting its his blood and not Soap’s. 

Ghost stood up and just stepped onto the table before jumping to the ground on the other side. A few of the patrons laughed and looked impressed and he made a brush off motion with his hands. 

He went to the bathroom and turned the cold water on. The gloves… Fuck. They clung to his hand and it was hard to get them off without the glass digging deeper into his skin. He slipped his sunglasses off so he could see it better. 

Ghost sighed and took his other glove off. He used one of his nails to cut through the fabric and peeled it off. First, he picked out all of the big pieces. Each cut weeped. Some of them were so deep he could see the smallest bit of his own muscles underneath. 

The glass turned into a small pile. It looked like he had gotten ever sliver of glass inside his hand. He ran his hand under the cold water. It swirled pink around the sink. 

“Hey.” Stupid fucking Scott. 

Ghost ignored him. 

“Simon.” 

“Ghost.” 

“Ghost. You look good.” 

“I’m wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. Don’t fuck with me.” 

Soap was quite for a minute before his fingers brushed his wings. “Didn’t know you were a dragon.” 

Ghost twirled around and grabbed his wrist hard. He picked Soap up by it, watching him scramble to hold on to his arm. 

“Don’t. Touch. Me. Don’t ever touch me again.” Fire in his chest. The lights buzzing above. The smell of Soap. Coffee and scotch and the sea. 

Soap stared at him. “I shouldn’t’ve been so mean.”

“Did you tell him what I look like?”

“What?”

“My face. Did you describe it to him?” Ghost squeezed harder. 

Soap looked guilty. “I told him you never took your mask off. Figured he’d ask questions I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to answer.” 

Ghost nodded. “Gave me that but you called me… clingy.”

“Didn’t expect that to hurt your feelings.” Soap laughed before trailing off. “Oh. It… actually hurt your feelings.” 

Ghost considered snapping his arm. “What are you?”

Soap smiled. “Does it matter? Unless… you’re thinking of continuing our arrangement. Wayne will be leaving again this weekend.” 

Ghost blinked slowly, watching Soap stare as if he could understand him.

“My dad used to take me to concerts when I was little.”

Soap tilted his head but didn’t interrupt.

“It was so he could fuck hookers without my mom knowing.” Ghost stared at him. “I’m not going to be the hooker you screw. Don’t care if your husband knows. I’m not….” He dropped Soap, happy he didn’t fall on his ass, but kinda wishing he had too. 

“We’re in an op-”

“You still saw me that way. Some random guy you could blow off steam with. I… was naive. I’ll admit that.”

“No, li-”

“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up.” Ghost growled at him, wings flaring around him and he saw how Soap’s eyes widened. Fear and awe. He wanted to crush him. To lash out again. Finally, he had someone he could hurt and no one would blame him. 

But Ghost… didn’t want to keep being that person. He didn’t want to be his dad or the poor women he slept with and dehumanized. He didn’t want to be his mom. So he had to think and move on. His therapist had said something about breaking the cycle. 

“Why did you come in here?”

Soap stared at him. 

“Was it to apologize?”

“No.” His eyes. Still so sad. So… empty. 

Ghost frowned. “What are you?”

Soap stared at him. Eyes slowly blinking. He waited for a flicker of some color. Something new. There was nothing. Just an empty void. 

“Johnny.’

“Selkie. I’m a selkie.” 

Ghost blinked, trying to remember any lore he could about it. He came up blank. “Seal people?”

Soap laughed. It sounded cold. Uncomfortable. “Yeah. Something like that.” He tried to move away. “I… want you to know. I didn’t… mean to hurt you.”

“Yet you’re not going to apologize.”

“No. I’m not going to apologize. You deserve for it to be genuine. I can’t give you that.” 

Ghost stared at him, feeling something hollow in his chest. “Did it mean… anything to you?”

“You were a good lay.”

“That’s not what I asked. Did it mean anything? Was it all in my head? I thought there was something. Some connection.” 

Soap smiled at him. It looked mocking, but it felt empty. “No. 

Didn’t

Mean 

A 

Damn 

Thing.”

Ghost watched him pull away. “I hope you come to the cafe sometime. I miss trying drinks with you, sweetheart.”

Eventually, Alejandro came to check on him. He helped him fix his hand and then he tugged him out. 

Ghost wished the sun was out.

~~~~~~

Taglist! Recently updated this so it should have everyone here. If you're not here, but want to be, please make sure you can be tagged and then just put a comment! @the-snarky-dragon @elevenclouds @lukewarm-chickensoup @nervouspsychologynerd @korym @cthulhusstepmom @princess-heathen @revenge-of-the-bucket-demon @roachboy @shadowsnowberry @crazies-unanimous @shiftylookingcrow @joltom @xenomorphee3 @thedeepvoidinmyheart

[karmicpunishment]

KARMIE BELOVED hear me out. ada minecraft server.

kyouka keeps taming animals (no one can bear to hit her. what if the dogs get mad at them. what if they have thorns armor. WHAT IF IT MAKES HER SAD.) and she is simply accompanied by a pack at all times

atsushi is still learning how to play and he builds these ugly-ass houses like we all did starting out but hes so proud of them (as he should be)

i was torn on dazai but i think it would be funny is hes so so bad at minecraft. he keeps walking off of inclines and dying bc he doesn't pay attention to his healthbar. he insists hes just playing on a higher level (hes actually rlly good at pvp and uses that for shenanigans but general play? he sucks so bad)

alternatively i think kunikida should be really good when he does play bc it would annoy dazai so much. i think he builds really nice houses and insists the game is just math but doesn't even play that often bc too much time gaming is unhealthy (it infuriates dazai that hes so competent despite barely playing)

i think ranpo plays exclusively for the chaos. he and dazai are a terrible combination (for everyone else) but also extremely funny. also i think he breaks minecraft in insane ways for fun when he gets bored and its a tossup whether the rest of the server suffers or benefits bc of it

tbh i think yosano should go feral in minecraft? like i think she should steal good gear from whoever has it and go kill to her heart's content. u cannot tell me she doesnt have insane amounts of repressed fury i think she should relieve that stress by going on adventures where she kills whatever she finds. yosano should 1v1 the warden powered by sheer spite i think

i think fukuzawa would not really understand minecraft?? but he gets on the server sometimes to spend time with the other members and has a minecraft cat that follows him everywhere (it took so many fish to tame. he worked so fucking hard for that ok)

OH MY GOD KENJI. I FORGOT HIM. THE BOY. i think hes so excited to play with everyone :) he can't build but he collects animals like kyouka and also provides the majority of the food for the other server members. hes like me fr just out here making massive farms of food and also collecting soo many farm animals in pens (he insists on not overcrowding the animal pens)

anyway i will end this by saying rip tanizaki hes the only remotely normal player on this fucking minecraft server

HI PAT!!! and yes yes yes to all of this

kyouka as an animal hoarder tamer is so cute and so real. kenji definitely does this too and yeah he'd totally make Massive farms. ranpo tells him he could make automated ones with redstone and he finds that amazing but also much rathers to just do it himself. they have huge buildings dedicated just to the animals they've collected and basically every name tag someone finds goes towards naming them all.

atsushi would 100% start out building the ugliest houses fr...all the dirt 4x4s and then the wooden box houses. he gradually gets better until hes a pretty decent builder. i feel like he'd also be the type to just get utterly lost in the game lol both in terms of directions (but he always writes down his coordinates) but also like he'd look up at the clock and realize he's spent 3 hours mining.

dazai being an utter disaster at the game is so funny to me. he's not allowed to go mining by himself because he will just die in a random cave and lose everything (also not allowed in the nether for similar reasons). he would be the type to purposefully hit a zombie pigmen just to make his fellow players lives worse lmao. the first thing someone gives him on the server is feather falling boots because he keeps walking off tall places (half the time on purpose the other half are complete accidents) it just makes him walk off things more but at least he's dying less because of it. he's an expert at setting up in game pranks though (usually on kunikida, the poor guy)

kunikida being great at minecraft is so near and dear to me now. i feel like he played the game a lot as a kid because lets be honest, its perfect for him but then kinda fell out of playing it as he got older. and then one of his students from when he was an assistant teacher reminded him of it and he got back into it. he definitely plays for like a couple a week to destress on his own private world where he has the most insane builds. he also is totally a resource gatherer/hoarder too, he's always giving the others supplies (though giving is a strong word, half of them just steal from him).

ranpo is also a disaster in minecraft i feel. he could build insane things but he doesn't have the patience for it honestly. same with redstone stuff, like he gets it but he doesn't usually take the time to do it. he's absolutely awful at pvp though and he gets lost ALL the time. he is the perfect person to go to when trying to find a special area or material, he always knows what someone needs. i also feel like he'd like potion making, idk why. he also really enjoys insane mod packs (though he makes other people install them for him)

yosano would totally be an insane pvp'er. she enjoys the other aspects of the game too but she gets the most enjoyment spending her nights beating mobs. she's not much of a builder but she does like to spend some time decorating the inside of ppl's bases. she's the kind of player to set off withers to defeat on her own for fun. she also plays bedwars lol and is a beast at it.

fukuzawa definitely has just a nice little house with like 5 cats in it. he logged on the first day of the server and then maybe like 3 times since but its okay. and absolutely no one is allowed to touch his house, under threat of ranpo's chaos lol. also no one really wants to destroy the presidents house, it just feels wrong.

tanizaki is just a fairly well-rounded player, like his builds aren't amazing but they're nice, he's decent at combat, he likes resource gathering etc. i feel like he and naomi have like several worlds of their own that they've kept up with for years at this point, with just like sprawling cities worth of builds. his favorite things to do in the game are probably just going on long journeys to find new biomes and fishing lol

[mollyrolls]

@anniewings the one i was thinking of was actually iron flame, not fourth wing

so iron flame spoilers below cut enjoy my insane good reads review

tldr: everyone in this book is infuriating. rebecca yarros needs to invest in an editor.

This book - and series in general- fascinates me. I was so motivated to finish reading, but while doing so I was borderline miserable. I need to go back and do some kind of formal analysis bc there’s something in her writing that must be crack adjacent. How in the ever loving god is it possible for her to create such an atmosphere and pull towards these books while filling them with grey slush that makes me brain bleed out my ears.

To Yarros’ credit, the problems I had with the war being boring were lessened. I did end up caring about the outcome, and read the fight scenes with some investment. Much improved from the first. I definitely think the choice to make the “true war” be a secret from everyone is a major shortcoming, (personally, I think that she didn’t know the wyvern and venin war was the true conflict until stumbling across it mid-writing and didn’t go back to properly edit,) as it leaves so much confusion in its wake. The least we could have gotten was a history class once the riders got to the outpost and caught them-and the readers- up to speed effectively. I think the reason why I cared this time was because it was the one central plot, which is a good thing. That being said, the things I enjoyed in the first did not improve the same way.

The most memorable disappointment was Violet and Xaden’s relationship. Xaden’s codependency is truly insane in this book, but I don’t think Yarros sees it that way. I never liked the miscommunication trope, but I like it even less when it’s the entire. fucking. book. Every scene with them is the exact same, just a different smut scene smacked dab in the middle of it forcing them to never reach a conclusion. The basis of the miscommunication is justified, but since Violet is insistent on backpedaling all her growth from the last book, it doesn’t stay justified for long. This relationship does not grow from start to about 85% of the way through, and then a hasty conclusion is met to have the twist ending hit harder. Also, the thing that makes Violet stop being an unrelenting asshole is arguably more egregious than the original fight! When you find out your boyfriend can literally read your mind? THATS WHEN YOU START BEEFING IT GIRL. I don’t think they really love each other anymore, because the chemistry they had has vanished into thin air, and that really makes me sad! I liked their dynamic in the first book a lot, even if it was painfully Feyre and Rhysand coded.

I know people have said that some of the background characters storylines should have been cut for lengths sake, but I honestly really liked the cast this time around. They’re more intriguing than Violet, that’s for damn sure. Rhiannon is way too good for violet. ridoc is my ride or die. tarin needs to THROW VIOLET OFF HIS BACK. I ended up liking the villains more than Violet (Cat, Sloane, Jack) because they were allowed to grow like normal people, not shoved back into the tiny cramped box with pencil holes to breathe every time we get even an inch close to having a development happen.

Despite grasping the concept of a central plot, somehow Iron Flame is more off-the-rails than Fourth Wing was. The pacing was truly incomprehensible, the plots were convoluted and messy, and the characters made me want to carve my eyes out with a rusty spoon. There is so much potential here but with the trend we’re headed in, I don’t think it will be fully realized. I can already see the Netflix Original now.

p.s. seriously someone enlighten me about her rhetoric because there has to be crack in there, right?

[peyton-warren]

Blinded by the Fog Part 6

Characters: Reader, Jolene, Aubrey Clay(OC), Madre Alverez (OC) and Syverson Pairings: Jake Jensen x Reader Word count: 2210

Type: angst and fluff

Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. guilt, self-depreciation, self-doubt, loss of spouse and found family, swearing. Therapy/ emotional baggage type language.

Summary: Reader thinks about the new man in her life and the one she recently lost.

Author's Note: I admit this is partly self-indulgent as I fight with my own demons of self-doubt and self-worth. Its been a hard couple of years months lately. Thank you to @adulting-sucks for her continued support, pushing me to not give up even though Reader has been a bit difficult lately.

Ask Box: Open

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Part 5

You somehow managed to evade Sy and everyone else for the better part of a week.  Well,  "managed" is a strong word for how your week went after acting like a complete fool in front of Sy Saturday morning.  

Ever the infuriating gentleman, Sy gave you the rest of Saturday to yourself only after he texted to make sure you got home ok.  And try as you might to avoid him, Jiminy Cricket on your shoulder insisted you needed to reply; if you didn’t, you knew Sy would be standing on your porch quicker than you could blink.  So you allowed yourself one thumbs up emoji, and immediately silenced your phone, sending it to parts unknown across the living room.  

Pulling your clothes from your body, you tossed them at the hamper in the corner of your bedroom on your way to the bathroom. Still refusing to look at yourself in the mirror on your way through, you headed for an excessively long shower that would hopefully clear your head.  You felt like such an idiot for reacting the way you did, an overdramatic fool who needed to get her shit together.  Jolene was counting on you......

 -and you silenced your fucking phone, god you were STILL a melodramatic moron.  

Dripping from the shower, conditioner still in your hair, you nakedly stomped your way through the house and searched for your phone for a good 5 minutes before your shivering fingers found it wedged behind an old text book from college. Wiping your cold wet hand on a nearby throw blanket, you unlocked your phone to find Jolene still hadn’t contacted you. Choosing to unsilence your phone, you sent her a quick check-in message before only silencing Sy's number .  You ignored the disappointment in the hole where your heart was supposed to be when you realized that he hadn't sent you any more messages after your thumbs up.  

With a huff of indignation, you took the phone with you to the bathroom. Sy was an infuriating individual, you reasoned with yourself as you stepped back into the spray of now warm water.  He had the audacity to just come into your life, be the exact person you needed right now, and then unknowingly distract you from mourning your husband by being... his fucking self.  

And then there was your husband.  And the loss of him.  And the rest of your favorite A-team.  

Shaking your head at yourself, you forced yourself to not look past the loss of your husband to stare at the loss of all 5 men on that copter, all of whom you knew you would mourn for the rest of your days.   You needed to focus on the loss of Jake, deal with the ends he left loose, the promises never to be fulfilled, the adventures never to be had together, the years you still had in front of you without him.  You two weren't babies, but you were far from an ancient woman.  You had made so many plans together, places to see, things to taste, sounds to hear, things to feel.  Together.  And now...now if you still wanted all those things, you had to do them without the one person on the planet that you adored with every fiber of your being.  

A horrible sounding sob rang through the bathroom as you allowed yourself to curl into a ball on the floor of the shower.  How were you going to manage without JJ around?   How could this just be it?   How could everything you had with Jake just come to this? A paltry few years together And then nothing. He was always there from the time you were 8.  You had no idea how to function without him.  And this hard ass routine was doing nothing to help.  

Suddenly, you felt so tired, so exhausted.  You felt like you needed to sleep for a month, even though last night you had slept better than you had since Jake's death.  Rinsing yourself off, you finally let yourself admit that you were able to sleep so well because you trusted Aaran Syverson.  You were able to relax enough last night because you knew you were safe. He had done nothing to give you any reason to think his intentions were anything other than honorable.  

He helped you forget what you were going through while still supporting you when it did come to the foreground.  He rolled with you as you wrestled with your grief, and he smiled with you when you were able to put it to the side.  He had found ways to support you that didn't seem overwhelming or suffocating, allowing you to be your own person, deal or not deal with your emotions as you needed, always just an arm's reach away.  But you had to admit to yourself that the horrid voice in the back of your head wasn't completely off track.  You found Sy attractive, but fuck what person with a pulse wouldn't?  

Toweling yourself off , you finally looked at yourself in the mirror.  Meeting your eyes, you let the guilt of his comfort well in your heart.   You had loved Jake Jensen most of your life, you weren't sure what you were supposed to do with the potential feelings for someone else.  Hell you weren't even sure if Sy felt the same way.  Yes, he was a great friend which you needed so deeply right now, could there be more on his side?

You recalled the times he had called you "baby" over the past few weeks, replaying every single one that you could remember.  Friends don't really call each other that, do they?   Maybe they did in Texas?  

His initial concern stemmed from Madre's insistence he bring you food.  But things had well and progressed since that drunken night.  You had to admit to yourself that you doubted yourself around Aaran, you were afraid of what that trust and comfort would turn into.  You were a grieving widow, mourning a man you had known most of your life.   How dare you shift your focus onto a man who you'd known for just a few short months.  You needed to adjust that.  

You called out of work on Monday, continuing to hide from the world.  On Sunday, Jolene had responded to your text that she was fine and that Madre wanted to have you both and Aubrey over on Friday for dinner, and she wasn't taking no for an answer.  It had been over a month since the four of you had gotten together, and you couldn't ever say no to her.  Ever.  

Come Tuesday morning, while waiting in line at your favorite coffee shop, you hazarded a glance at your silenced messages to find that Sy had sent you two.  One was on Monday morning asking how you were, if you were alright and if the two of you  could talk.  The second one had a time stamp of later that day saying he was being sent out the following morning for an unknown amount of time by the Army and if he didn’t have a message from you when he returned, he promised to leave well enough alone.  

You couldn’t stop your heart from sinking to your toes at the thought of another super secret mission, another chance for someone else you cared about getting hurt, or even worse. Glancing at your watch even without knowing what time his debrief was this morning, you were certain his phone was off and tucked away somewhere by now, not to be touched until his return.  Not that you had any idea what to say to him.  Your mind just whirled with all the things you wished you had said to Jake before he left, and none of those seemed appropriate with Sy.  And did you even want him to contact you when he returned?  He was giving you an out, a free and clear out to not deal with whatever the fuck had been building between you.  Should you take it?   

What you did decide to take was another day off from work, claiming another mental health day, which your boss was understanding about, especially after all the ones you didn’t take after the accident.  

The rest of the week you pondered what to send to Sy’s phone, if anything.  You had wanted a break from him so you could clear your mind and focus on the loss of Jake, and what your life now was going to look like.  And instead you spent the week dwelling on what you felt about another man.  World’s best widow right here folks, right here.  

By the time you were on your way to Madre’s Friday night, you were no closer to figuring out what to say to Sy than you were to figuring out what you were going to do now that Jake was gone.   You tried to push all of it aside as the front door opened to reveal the youngest member of your found family, her bright eyes shining the same way Clay’s did when he saw you.  You tried to hold back the tears as Aubrey hugged you close.  Her school schedule made it hard for her to get together with any of you lately and you were so glad she had come tonight.  “Good to see you, munchkin,” you mumbled into her shoulder, as she stood a good head taller than you.  You had known the young woman more than half her life by now, having watched her grow from a gangly preteen into the goddess before you.  

“Good to see you too, Auntie.” Your hug tightened on both sides, both of you acutely aware of your loss, both of you too stubborn to ask for help in your own grief, clinging to each other for a moment of solace and comfort.  

After a few silent moments, you stepped back to place a kiss on the redhead’s cheek.  “How’s school?” you asked, squeezing her hand before stepping further into the house.  “You doing ok with everything?”

Aubrey shrugged as she half led the way through the small house, her heels clicking against the hardwood. “Profs have been pretty understanding with it all.  Forcing myself to focus on school work has helped keep me from losing my mind, ya know?”

You half laughed at her statement. “Oh I do know, munchkin.  I do know.”   You gently squeezed her arm before you reached the threshold of the kitchen where you could hear Jolene and Madre chattering.  “We are here for you…I’m here for you,” you continued.  “You are not in this alone, you know.  I love you,” you said with a choked voice.  “They loved you.”   

Aubrey’s eyes met yours, tears filling both of your visions. “Fuck you,” she muttered lowly, no anger in her tone.  “You had to do that now didn’t you?” She wiped delicately around her eyes, clearly trying not to spoil her well done make up with her well appointed nails.  “God I hate you.” 

You smiled through your own pain. “No you don’t.  Suck it up, buttercup.”

She flipped you off as she headed toward the bathroom. Laughing softly, you entered the kitchen to find the other two women in the room, sharing a story about something.  You kissed Madre’s cheek where she stood at the stove before making your way over to hug Jolene where she sat on a chair, looking stunningly beautiful in all her momma glory.  Not even pausing to interrupt the conversation, you grabbed the stack of plates and silverware on the counter and made your way to the dining room, putting yourself to work, helping where you could. 

After settling the fifth plate down, you realized Madre must have miscounted as she pulled them out tonight.  It happened. You set it to the side as you started putting out the forks, quickly realizing there were five of them as well. Wait….

There was a knock on the front door as you literally did the math.  After the door opened, heavy booted footsteps were heard as your heart sped up.  Aubrey’s squeal echoed from the front hallway as a familiar voice rumbled off the walls. “Hello, beautiful,” Sy told her. 

“Haven’t seen you in ages,” the young girl admitted, with joy in her voice.  You heard them hug and you suddenly remembered the conversation you and Sy had at your kitchen table all those weeks ago.  A new emotion entered your stomach, swirling with all the others, one you didn’t particularly like the flavor of-  jealousy.  Had Sy and Aubrey really slept together? Was that the history he and Clay had?  

“Was very sorry to hear about your dad, kiddo,” Sy mumbled softly.  Kiddo.  That was the same nickname Clay had for you.  And there’s nothing untoward between you and the Colonel.  That surely was the same for these two, right?   Your brain and your anxiety stormed, trying to make sense of everything. 

“Thank you.  I appreciate that,” she said as the two of them entered the dining room on their way to the kitchen.  You swallowed hard as your eyes met Sy’s.  With steely eyes that gave nothing away, he gave you a solitary nod before following Aubrey into the kitchen. 

Guess you now knew who the fifth plate was for.  

Chapter 7

General Tag List littleone65

BBTF Tag List Mis-lil-red @mysweetlittledesire

HC Tag LIst

M07belzen Used-to-be-bourbonwithice @hawklin

[lmttn]

Gabriel Knight 3: Day 1 Complete

After my initial post about Gabriel Knight 3 (which was itself just me restating a few Tweets I made about the game), I figured I'd keep writing about it until I'm finished with it. I guess this will be like a really abridged camcorder let's play, but maybe less focused on the game itself (For example, I don't think I want to reveal too many huge plot spoilers.) and more on my own thoughts on the game and maybe also the graphic adventure genre as a whole.

Before I start, maybe I should first talk about my own history with the point and click adventure genre. It's not very long. When I was a kid I played a little bit of Nancy Drew: Curse of Blackmoor Manor (2004) with my mom, and I thought it was really difficult and none of the puzzles made any sense and then I went back to playing Battlefield 1942 (2002). Not long later, after getting GameTap (points to anyone else who had it), I tried a few of the many old adventure games on the service, such as the first couple King's Quest games and some of the Myst games. You could probably guess how well those went for me.

It wasn't until last year, at a point in time in which I really felt like I had played everything I thought I wanted to play, that I decided I'd give the genre another shot. It was a good opportunity to explore what I had realized was a huge blind spot; I love old PC games, and this was once a marquee genre for the platform. The first game I played in this excursion was LucasArts's Sam & Max Hit the Road (1993). I just thought it was okay. I really liked Sam and Max as characters, but I wasn't that invested in the world they inhabited or the mystery the game saw them solving. In addition, I really couldn't recall a single puzzle in the whole game. That might be a good thing, since that means none of them must have been particularly infuriating. Next, I tried Full Throttle (1995), also by LucasArts. I didn't finish it because basically nothing about its story, world, characters, or gameplay grabbed me. It's allegedly extremely short, so for all I know I might have seen the majority of the game before quitting.

Up next was Sierra's The Beast Within: A Gabriel Knight Mystery (1995), which I'm just going to refer to as Gabriel Knight 2 or GK2. I was interested in it because it seemed like the polar opposite of the other two games I played. For one, it was by the other major graphic adventure publisher. But it obviously ran way deeper than that. GK2 was very different in terms of tone and presentation as well, being a dark paranormal mystery in a contemporary setting, played by live actors.

I ended up finding GK2 to be immensely charming. Gabriel Knight and Grace Nakimura, the game's dual protagonists, quickly became two of my favorite characters in the medium. The writing and acting were campy, but nothing felt forced or insincere. A couple of its puzzles were pretty frustrating, but they were worth powering through to see the next part of the story. Also, it had to be among the most homoerotic games to be released by a major publisher in the 1990s. Metal Gear Solid wishes. If you're reading this and you haven't played it, I highly recommend it.

Which finally brings me to Gabriel Knight 3: Blood of the Sacred, Blood of the Damned (1999). I first tried it right after finishing 2, but was scared off by its interface, which may have been designed by aliens. I'm not going to retread what I talked about in my initial post about the game, but trust me: it's fucking weird.

One of the most confusing things about GK3 is how it starts. The game's opening cutscene gives absolutely no context as to why Gabriel is getting his ass on a train in France. That's because the actual intro is in a prologue comic, which was included in the game's box, but bizarrely isn't included as a digital extra in the Steam/GOG re-releases of the game. Thankfully, it has been uploaded elsewhere.

Heartbreakingly, Dean Erickson did not return to reprise his role as Gabriel. Instead, Tim Curry—who voiced him in the first game—was brought back to play the protagonist. Erickson knocked it out of the park in GK2. He had a more convincing Louisiana accent than Tim Curry ever will, and he was significantly more capable of portraying Gabriel at his most serious. Curry's portrayal, on the other hand, is really over-the-top. Unfortunately, Joanne Takahashi, who did a fantastic job as Grace in 2, didn't return either. I can't comment on her replacement (Charity James) just yet, as Grace has had very little presence so far in my playthrough.

As I said in my initial post about the game, Gabriel Knight 3 used a completely original engine. It was probably going to be used for more than just this game, but GK3 ended up being Sierra's final adventure game. It's a shame because it's a really fascinating engine that, weird interface aside, opens up a level of fully 3D exploration that other graphic adventure games didn't have. Instead of pre-rendered backgrounds, everything is 3D: characters, environments, and all the little objects that inhabit them. The level of detail is pretty surprising, as some of these areas are quite big. You have a freely controllable camera that moves independently of the player character. In the two images below, you can see the same area through two cameras. The first is the default angle you see when you load into this area. In the second, I pulled the camera back as far as it let me:

Obviously, the ground textures have not aged all that well, and some of the skyboxes depicting distant mountains don't look too great either. The level of detail, however, is pretty impressive. All signs and posters in the world are fully legible, and the texture filtering is good enough that they actually still look very smooth when you zoom in on them. I should've taken some pictures of them to illustrate this.

The interiors look (and run) way better, and they also do a better job of showing off the level of detail this engine is capable of. You can pick up that crumpled piece of paper in front of the trash can. It's so useless that it doesn't even get added to your inventory, but it still has a whole animation and voiceover dedicated to it.

Gabriel Knight 3's game sections are divided very concretely. The game's "chapters" are presented as days, which are split blocks of hours. For example, Day 1 of the game is split into 10AM-12PM, 12PM-2PM, 2PM-4PM, 4PM-6PM, and 6PM-10PM. Thankfully, there is no time limit or real-time clock. Instead, essential story progress is what moves you from one time block to the next. As the title suggests, I just finished Day 1 of the game.

Day 1 has the notorious cat hair mustache puzzle. It is, to put it lightly, fucking stupid. To make matters worse, it is the first major puzzle in the game. I can't even imagine how many people bought this game in 1999 only to never see past this part.

While its tale of vampires, missing babies, secret societies, hidden treasures, and seriously unconvincing Scottish accents has me intrigued so far, GK3 lacks the camp charm of its predecessor. Jane Jensen can obviously still write convincing characters, and her sense of humor still shines through occasionally, but this game is way more stone-faced than 2 so far. But all in all, so far so good. If I can get through a puzzle so bad it has its own Wikipedia article, I should be able to comfortably get through the rest of Gabriel Knight 3.

[batbeato]

i had the horrible realization that while on twitter i'd be too limited by horrific character limits to rant about this in a satisfactory way, here on tumblr? here, i am free.

no one can stop me from ranting about subahibi. no one. none of you understand how long i've been holding this in (two years. two. years.)

...subahibi spoilers and my rage-fueled criticism of it to follow.

so. subahibi. yeah. look, I think most people know it as "that one VN where the girl gets fucked by a dog" and you know. it is that VN. it's a denpa eroge, heavy emphasis on eroge, with a side of the usual (in)comprehensible denpa rambling about the meaning of life love the universe everything with references ranging from Satie to Cyrano. it also vaguely ties into some other game by the same studio by virtue of local cryptid girl who is never explained in subahibi. classic.

now, I have nothing against the genre. I actually really like CROSS CHANNEL, another denpa eroge. most of the eroge parts don't interest me in CC but they're tolerable, sometimes hold plot relevance, and while the VN itself sometimes goes into absurdity and becomes laughable when it's trying to be sincere, it does try its best and has interesting elements, if underutilized. Some elements are utilized incredibly well, too!

however. subahibi is one of the worst VNs I've ever read, checking off all the boxes of:

horrific failure at depicting mental illness (the fantastical depiction of DID bears little resemblance to the actual condition. if it was confirmed to be spiritual possession, it might be different, but the VN does its best to act as though it's "unclear")

sex scenes clearly there for gratuity that drag on (yes, I know it's an eroge. there was no need to have an entire sex scene devoted to a random teacher raping her father. she wasn't even a main character.)

transphobia that goes from the usual subtle gender essentialism to so blatant it's horrific (the f slur, Mamiya being insulted by the 'good' protagonist for his femininity and forced crossdressing)

boring brocon brother/sister incest.

the VN does have some interesting components. I think the idea of someone taking on Zakuro's name to get revenge for her, but they're actually a very fucked up person who never really know her? interesting. the way the story is told from these varying unreliable narrators? interesting. the idea of taking a plural character and telling the same story/time period with the different alters' perspectives? again, interesting.

however, it completely fails to make use of any of these interesting components, especially with its depiction of DID being so bad that I wonder if anyone working on Subahibi had so much as met someone with any degree of disassociation in their lives, ever. also the rejection of mental health professionals as being capable of helping. it all comes across as some chuuni author insisting that the only way to reach happiness and mental wellness is to stick your dick in something and beat up bad guys.

I see people talking about how unique and deep Subahibi is, praising it as a great piece of media, and while I do think that, yes, it is interesting, it's more interesting when you realize that it's a flaming trashfire product of its time and its writers, with a moral message so flimsy that an infant could break it in half.

You see, it's not the pieces of media so irredeemably bad that they have nothing new to them that really make them stick in my brain for me to absolutely despise. It's the pieces of media that have just enough interesting elements to grab my interest, then vomit in my face. Subahibi is infuriating to me because it was such an awful read when it could have been a great one. It's infuriating to me because I thought I was going to read either something really amazing or something laughably bad that had a girl getting fucked by a dog. I got something infuriatingly bad that had a woman pissing on the street.

...Yeah. I could go on for days about the details of subahibi's failure to respectfully depict mental illness or DID, but......

[littleliteraturersj]

Cereal Killer. (tonight's tease for my latest chapter)

-I didn't notice the dark eyes of Freddy watching my every move as I trudged past him, but I did notice the obviously empty box of Cheerios that lay discarded on the floor. And next to it was an ever bigger eyesore in comparison, being the entire goddamn bag of the particular cereal half spilled on the tile. My mouth dropped open at the sight. Seriously? I quickly glanced around the kitchen, wondering which of these jackasses had left it laying there. You've gotta be fucking joking.

But it wasn't a joke. There was milk AND cereal on the floor. The only thing that was missing was a bowl and a spoon, and the fucking floor could have a nice breakfast.

There it was again. The anger. The very same that had me wanting to empty all the air in my lungs to scream, and the very same I had to squash down if I wanted to keep on living. Get the fucking cereal, Jennifer. You know it's a lost cause. I turned away from the infuriating sight, trying my damnedest to calm down. Now I hadn't at all lost sight of the painfully clear fact that them trashing the house was a hundred times better than them murdering me, but did the thought make me any less agitated? No.

Opening up one of the cabinets, which was currently unfortunately next to where Freddy stood, I reached for the box of Trix that sat inside. My fingers brushed uselessly against the side of the box, earning a slightly frustrated huff of air through my nostrils. Going on tiptoe, right hand on the counter to help keep myself balanced, I was able to grip the thinnest side of the colorful cereal box and retrieve it from its spot.

I had barely gotten back onto the balls on my feet when the cereal box was crudely torn from my grasp. My head snapped around, not able to help the glare that followed it. Freddy Krueger, the Christmas-sweater-wearing motherfucker, had the box of Trix in his left hand. And what's more? He was actively holding the box away from me.

Good tap dancing CHRIST!

I struggled, really struggled to hold in my ever rising irritation. Thankfully the unease I felt in his company dimmed some of that rage; ‘Dimmed’ being the keyword.

I reluctantly reached for the Trix box he held hostage. As I expected, he once more pulled it away from my reach, wearing a lopsided grin. I glanced at the box and then back at him. There was a smug expression on his face. It was apparent that he wanted to see if I were brave enough to tell him that he was being a dick. Ha. Ha. Good one, funny, now you better give me.. "Can I...?" I pointed at the Trix, nodding uncertainly towards it.

Freddy glanced at the cereal box in his hand, pretending to realize only then that his behavior was bothering me. "Oh I'm sorry," He drawled. He presented the box in a tilt to me, the same way in which a waiter might offer a bottle of their finest wine, holding it with both hands. His gloved hand beheld it at the bottom, the blades long and gleaming against the cartoonish cardboard. A sliver of fright crawled up my back at the sight. "Is this what ya wanted?" He meant the cereal. I fought not to sigh loudly. No, I wanted to tell him. I took that specific box out of the cabinet just for the fuck of it. No other reason. Obviously. "...Yes." I answered pointedly, chewing the inside of my lip.

He moved the offering a little bit closer as if wanting me to take it. Naively I obliged, moving my hands forward to accept. I don't know why I was surprised when he yanked away the box for a third time but I was. A small aggravated breath exhaled itself from my nose, looking up at him.

"What's wrong? I thought ya wanted cereal."

He held back a murmured laugh, his lips pressing together creepily. The color of humiliation swarmed to my face. That's it! I'm done! I quickly leaned forward, going to snatch the box out of his hands. It was a futile effort, seeing as the bastard was faster than I was. With his ungloved hand he held the box above his hatted head, his other arm somewhat wrapping around him.

"Give me the goddamn cereal!" I snapped.

His arm lowered just enough to fool myself into thinking that I could grab it if I tried; "Ohoho, you're a firecracker aren'tcha? What's the matter? You a little too short?" He let out an entertained laugh; "It's right here. Take it!" I tried doing just that, and wow so shocking, he held the damn thing even further above his head and mine. Then I actually jumped for it, like an impatient dog that couldn't wait for their promised treat. The tips of my fingers only managed to graze against the wrist of his sweater sleeve. Inside I fumed, hating the tease of my inferior height.

I knew I must have looked like a fool, playing right into his immature game but in the moment I didn't care. I just wanted some stupid breakfast. Jumping again and again for it, Freddy let out different jeers of “oohs” and “aaah, so close”, letting out laughs all the while as he shook the box side to side to rattle the contents, way more entertained by making fun of my height than he should have been.

The fourth time must have been the charm, because after that I refused to keep playing the part I had unknowingly cast upon myself. He noticed my internal decision because he smirked down at me; "Giving up already? I didn't peg ya for a quitter."

In the crescendo of my frustration, I couldn't help but exclaim; "Good God, all I want is some Trix!"

The box was let down to be pushed up against the side of his striped torso. His gloved hand went to it, palm facing up, three of the bladed fingers pressing together save for the pointer and thumb. The index blade tapped a few times against the white cheek of the rabbit on the front. Looking at the cereal mascot and then back to me, he learned down towards my face, in turn making me scrunch away from him as he mockingly said;

"Trix are for kids."

His laughter belittled me, but Freddy wasn't the only one tickled by the joke. I could hear both Chucky and Nathaniel snickering in the background. If my face turned any more red, the skin was going to melt from my skull. Was this the last time I was going to be ridiculed today? I doubted it.

With that in mind, I gave up.

Spinning away from him, I all but stomped my way back to the cabinet. I hiked my leg up in a swift semi-climb onto the counter, reaching for a different box of cereal. While it wasn't my favorite of breakfast foods, it was the only other box left. I yanked the box of Alpha-Bits from its place and pulled my leg down from the slight climbing position it had been in, now back on both feet. I closed the cabinet and protectively hugged the box to my chest. No one was going to take this box of cereal from me, no one. Especially not a talking strip of bacon.

"Aww, have I been too mean to ya? Here, you can have the cereal." Freddy spoke in a babied tone of voice, setting the Trix on the counter beside him, his hand patting the top of the box. I made it a point to disregard him altogether. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of my attention any longer. And who knows what the bastard bacon strip would do? Probably goad me into coming close enough to snatch away the other box of cereal too! So instead I elected to root through some of the kitchen cabinets and drawers for a bowl and spoon.

I was beginning to learn something about Freddy Krueger: Evidently he really liked the sound of his own voice. How did I know? Because the fucker kept on talking.

"You can have it if ya want it." He taunted, waving the Trix box around.

"Shove it up your ass." I snarked.

Chucky openly wheezed out a laugh at that; "Walked right into that one, didn't you?" I felt a tiny surge of pride when the doll laughed for a little while longer. Right after the words had left my mouth, I caught some of Freddy's humor dying away into a slight curl of his upper lip. Oh, he didn't like getting talked back to? You get what you fucking deserve. I made my way to the fridge with a bowl in hand, a spoon resting inside it.-

[localhideaway]

Little Devil

NSFW 18+, smoking, swearing, oral sex.

y/n and Sammy have been best friends since you were kids. Which inevitably resulted in you having the typical crush on his older brother Jake. However, Sam made it explicitly clear his brothers were off limits. You go over to the Kiszkas for your normal friday night hangout when things with Jake take a turn.

_________________________________________________

“Fuck” You threw your head back in frustration.

“Y/N you cannot be serious right now…”

You looked to the drivers seat to see Sam rolling his eyes at you.

“I forgot to pick up earlier okay i’m sorry”

You were on the way to the Kiszka house to hangout. Per Josh’s request you were supposed to bring your stash but it wasn’t until after Sam picked you up and you were already halfway there that you realized you only had one joint left.

“It’s fine but I hope you know you’re gonna be the one to tell Josh not me”

You sat back in disappointment toying with the sleeves on Sams hoodie that you were wearing.

“You know, I would like my sweatshirt back at some point.” Sam lightly smacked you in the shoulder as he continued to drive.

You guys had been best friends since kindergarten. Sometimes he would come stay at yours or you would go stay at his. It wasn’t abnormal for you to find his clothes laying around your room so you usually took advantage.

“Unless you want to see my bra I highly suggest you wait.”

He rolled his eyes at you mumbling a quiet “gross” under his breath.

“Y/N! The parties here!” You heard Josh yell from the couch when you entered the living room. He was sitting upside down on the couch. Head hanging off the bottom and legs crossed over the top.

Sam made his way up to his room to take a shower once the two of you got inside.

“Careful, all the blood is gonna rush to your head if you sit like that too long” You threw your backpack on the floor by the fireplace and made your way to the couch.

“Surprised he has any blood left to rush in the first place after what i heard last night”

You whip your head around to see Jake making his way down the stairs. He’s wearing jeans and an Arctic Monkeys tee shirt with holes in it. It’s almost like he’s trying to give you a heart attack. He could wear a cardboard box and still look like the sexiest bastard you’ve ever seen. Its genuinely infuriating.

Here you are wearing his brothers hoodie and a pair of leggings and he just comes in looking like he walked out of every girls wet dream.

You’d had a hopeless crush on him for as long as you can remember but ever since high school Sam made it abundantly clear that his brothers were off the table for you. “I don’t want to have to kick their asses when they inevitably break your heart. They have a terrible track record with girls and i don’t want to see that happening to you” You could hear his lecture in your head clear as day as if it was yesterday.

“At least one of us is getting some” Josh grumbled as he began to sit right side up next to you on the couch.

Jake gave you a side smile and a wave acknowledging your presence to which you responded with a small “hey”

“So did you bring it?” Jake smirked as he slumped down on the other side of the couch.

“So about that..” you turned your head to look at Josh who was anxiously waiting for your answer.

“I may or may not have forgot to pick up so i only have one on me”

“I’m gonna go call Mary” Josh sat up and made his way up to his room. You guys had been passing the joint around and trying to get as much out of it as possible.

When Josh gets high he gets needy. Every time you guys have smoked together he’s always needing some sort of physical contact and attention. Whether that’s from you, his brothers, or his most preferred, his girlfriend Mary. They had been dating for a few months now.

“Jesus christ he’s whipped” Sam coughed out and passed the joint to you.

He was sat to your left on the couch. Long legs situated in your lap as he rested on the arm. Jake was sitting on the floor to your right with his back against the coffee table so he was facing you. He had his guitar in his lap as he strummed random chords and hummed to himself in between hits.

“I dunno Samuel, I think y/n has you pretty whipped too” Jake looked up at you from under his hair that had fallen in his face.

“Oh absolutely, he’s wrapped around my finger for sure.” You laughed after you took a hit and kicked your leg out to nudge Jakes feet that sat below you.

“First of all, gross. Second of all, this little shit couldn’t last a day without me so if anyones whipped it’s definitely her.” Sam chucked the pillow that was under his head at Jake.

“Oh fuck off” you laughed and pushed Sams legs from your lap onto the floor. You reached forward to hand Jake what little was left of the lit joint.

“Hold it for me I have this really sick chord in my head i don’t want to lose it” Jake continued to strum. Hold it for him? So he was just gonna-

He leaned forward as he led through the song he had pulled together on his acoustic. Wrapping his lips around the paper and taking a hit fluttering his eyes open to zone in on yours. Your heart began to swell in your chest. To the lack of Sams knowledge, Jake has looked at you like this plenty of times before. You’ve noticed him steal glances at you over the years which only made your feelings escalate even more. It’s like he’s teasing you because you know Sam wouldn’t allow it.

He sat back with a smirk plastered on his face as he tilted his head back and exhaled. You hadn’t noticed but he’d stopped playing.

“I’m sure you could’ve taken the hit yourself just fine.” Sam rolled his eyes next to you.

“You know if you keep rolling your eyes like that they’re gonna roll right out of your head and onto the floor” You nudged his side with your elbow. Jake chuckled from his spot on the floor.

“Ha ha… very funny loser. I’m feeling pretty heavy i think i’m going to head to bed. Y/N you coming?” Sam had a futon in his room by his window so that’s where you usually slept when you stayed here. His bed was tucked in the corner on the other side by the door.

“Nah i’m gonna stay here for a bit. I’ll come up when i’m tired” You leaned forward and put the joint out in the ashtray that was sat on the coffee table.

You glanced over and saw a small smile on Jakes face as he put his head back down to focus on his guitar.

“uh.. okay” Sam looked almost disappointed as he turned and made his way up the stairs to his room. You grabbed the blanket that was hanging over the back of the couch and laid it out in your lap.

“You cold?” Jake looked up at you again.

“A bit”

He stood up and set his guitar in its stand in the corner of the room as he made his way over to the fireplace. He turned the key and opened the frame to move the wood around so it could start catching.

“Oh you didn’t have to do that it’s fine” You blushed at his gesture as if he had just taken a bullet for you.

“It’s no big deal. Wouldn’t want the little devil getting cold” Your head shot up at him at the nickname. He had never called you that before. Josh and Sam had given you that nickname in middle school after you dressed up as a devil for halloween 3 years in a row. You’re still not sure why you did it but they’ve held onto the joke of it for years now.

But Jake had never called you that before. Usually it was just by your name or the occasional “dork” he would throw at you in a teasing way.

Hearing him say that made your cheeks flush. To your surprise he came and sat next to you on the couch. Crossing his legs and turning to face you like a child playing duck duck goose.

“Try not to laugh.” he firmly said. Reaching his hand up and tucking his hair behind his ears so his full face came into view. His eyes were glossy as you’re sure yours were too.

“You’re on.” You turned and sat in the same position facing him. This was a game you guys played a lot. Usually in a group setting when you were hanging out with their family. You guys would make eye contact from across the room and just hold it to see who broke and laughed first. It was silly but it was something the two of you shared so you cherished it nonetheless.

You leaned forward and rested your elbows on your knees placing your chin in your hands as you stared at him straight faced.

He leaned forward and did the same, mirroring you.

He began to cross his eyes and puff up his cheeks. Trying to make you laugh like a child would.

In your inebriated state this almost broke you but you held strong and just stared back at him.

His face suddenly settled and a stern and serious look took over. He placed his hands in his lap and leaned forward until you could feel his warm breath fanning on your face.

Your eyes flickered down to his lap as you began to notice one of his hands hesitantly moving out towards your face. You began to sit up, removing your head from your hands.

The second his thumb and index finger wrapped around your chin your entire body felt like it was on fire. He had never touched you in an intimate way whatsoever and your head was too fuzzy from the weed to think straight.

“So beautiful” He spoke barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear that but you definitely did. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip and that’s when you’d had enough.

Your hand gripped his wrist pulling his from your face and your opposite snatched at the back of his neck pulling his lips to meet yours. Immediately he responded and reached out to grab your waist.

A low moan came from the his throat as your nails applied pressure to the back of his neck.

“Come over here” he spoke before moving back in to meet your lips.

His tongue danced along your bottom lip and as you opened to follow with yours you moved to straddle him. Throwing both your arms over his shoulders as you sat in his lap.

“Fuck” he grumbled as you sat down applying pressure to the bulge growing in his pants.

You broke the kiss in realization of what you’re doing. Pressing your forehead to his and catching your breath you spoke “what are we doing”

His hands dug tighter into your waist. “Something i’ve been dying to do for too fucking long” You threw caution to the wind after hearing this and moved back in to kiss him again.

His hands started to toy with the bottom of the hoodie you were wearing as he slipped his hands under and brought them flat onto your bare back. Pushing your chest to his. This urged you into a more aggressive state turning you on even more with his skin on yours. Your hand reached and gripped in his hair and tugged. Hard.

“Jesus fucking christ Y/N” he spoke again. His voice was like silk. Raspy and smooth at the same time. He began to sit up with his hands on your back to support you. He laid you back flat on the couch and brought his knee up between your thighs.

Breaking the kiss he nudged your head to the side and started to leave open mouth kisses along your jawline. He started to struggle to gain access to your neck because your hood was in his way.

Moving your arms down and gripping the bottom of the garment with confidence you smirked at him as you spoke. “Back up” he placed his hands at your sides supporting him so he was hovering above you as he intently watched you remove Sams hoodie revealing your black lace bralette underneath.

You tossed it to the side and grabbed the belt loops in his jeans pulling his hips to meet yours as his chest fell on top of you. His nose nudged yours as he kissed you again.

Your hands made their way to his back under the tee shirt he was wearing gripping and pulling him as close as you possibly could. When he bit your bottom lip your nails dragged down from his shoulder blades and your hips bucked upwards for more friction.

The deepest moan you have ever heard erupted from the back of his throat. He immediately shot up and pulled his shirt off from the back of the neck and discarded it.

When he lowered himself back on top of you his lips started at your collarbone and made their way down to the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bralette.

“It’s almost like you knew how bad i’ve wanted this… you wore black lace for me and everything… You are a little devil aren’t you?” His eyes fluttered up to meet yours.

“Oh you have no idea”

He began working his mouth lower over your stomach when he reached the waistband of your leggings.

“Can I take these off, devil?” He looked up at you again taking the band between his teeth. Fuck. That’s enough to make you cum right there.

“Please”

He looped his fingers into your leggings and worked them off of you. He bit his lip in awe when he noticed your underwear matched your bralette.

Maneuvering so his face was aligned with your hips he began to place open mouthed kisses to the lower half of your stomach as his hands rubbed up your thighs and applying pressure so you would spread your legs.

“You’re okay with this right?”

He whispered as he continued to litter your body with kisses.

You’re so desperate for him you could barely speak.

“Y-yes Jake please j-just.. fuck” You needed him so bad you couldn’t help but stumble over your words.

His fingers slipped under the front of your underwear as his mouth got lower and lower. His tongue pressed directly onto your clit once he moved your lace to the side. You threw your head back and bit your lip to try and keep quiet.

“Shh. We don’t want to wake them, Devil”

His hand moved from your thigh as his fingers went through your folds to your entrance.

“You’re so fucking wet for me.”

“Shit” You gasped as he placed two fingers inside of you as his tongue worked your clit. Your body felt like you were floating. Between the weed and your orgasm building you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“You like that?” He continued working his mouth and fingers on you simultaneously. Your hand went over your mouth to muffle your moans as much as possible as your other went into his hair to grab it.

The moan that came from him in response sent vibrations to your core tripling the sensation you were feeling.

His fingers began to curl and pump faster and you weren’t sure how quiet you could be anymore. Your hand slipped to the back of his neck to pull his head up to meet yours. He rested his arm along side your head and pressed his forehead against yours as his fingers continued to work inside you and his thumb circled your clit.

You lifted your chin to take his bottom lip between your teeth before kissing him again. Tasting you on his tongue. This made his fingers jerk into a curl and hit your g-spot. Your eyes squinted as you moaned into his mouth and he muttered a low “fuck”

“Jake i’m-“

“Y/N cum for me. Open your eyes I want to look at you when I make you come.”

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt a surge throughout your entire body. The warmth and fire that started in your head was now exploding in the bottom of your stomach. “That’s it, good girl” he whispered to you.

His thumb was still slowly circling your clit as you came down. Your hand jerked to grab his wrist once it became too much.

Both of you stared at each other as he removed his fingers.

“Kiss me” You spoke. You knew this was inevitably going to complicate things. Especially your relationship with Sam.

But right now none of that mattered.

[thunderheadfred]

🦅Hawks HC’s🦅

This is SO unnecessarily long. Some NSFW. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

Has zero social life or hobbies outside of work. He knows it’s unhealthy, but like, who has the time?? Oh? Lots of people do?? Haha what are healthy work/home boundaries? He desperately wants to retire and always talks about a world without heroes, but the truth is he would have no idea what to do with himself if he got his way. Take him to a park at midnight and watch him turn into a giant repressed child on a swing. He’ll do a standing-360 and it will be terrifying.

Listens to music way too loud in his headphones to drown out wind noise. Probably half deaf at this point. His musical taste is wild; listening history all over the fucking place. Algorithms have no idea what to do with him.

That visor? It’s prescription. Wow is he far-sighted. He wears glasses. He’s not blind without them (rather the opposite) but they help him see things directly in front of him without massive eye strain. Yeah, he looks really hot in glasses.

Prefers communicating via text. Sometimes it’s a lot of dumb memes, but mostly it’s sincere. He can say what he means when he doesn’t have to put on a public front.

Smokes like a chimney. Self medicates with stimulants. Coffee, tobacco, sugar. Fidgety, likes things in his mouth or hands. Gnashes on toothpicks and popsicle sticks. He really should go back to therapy, huh? His teeth are sparkling white for the cameras but his breath could use some work. Chews gum a lot to compensate, and always does it really loudly with a big shit-eating grin.

Impatient as fuuuuuck. Rude about it. If you take too long doing anything, you’re going to hear a foot tapping. He’ll smile and laugh it off, never ever directly criticize you about it. But lord, the dramatic sighs. He WILL nudge you out of the way and take over in order to finish a task faster, and it’s truly fucking annoying.

LOVES food. Has the metabolism of an actual bird. Will seize upon any excuse to eat. No need to be self-conscious about eating in front of him; he wants you to enjoy it. Steals bites from you and talks with his mouth full. Prefers street food and take-out, usually eats while walking or flying. Sit-down restaurants are an invitation for gawkers.

He’s one of those celebrities that looks way taller on TV. In real life, he’s small and compact. So you’re surprised the first time you see him in person. He has a big head. Literally.

If you’re taller or bigger than him, he does Not Care. He treats everyone like they’re four feet tall, even Endeavor. Everything you do is cute. If you’re actually short, he’s going to carry you around all the time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Collects big chunky overpriced watches. All the better to tell you you’re late.

Half his clothes are brand fucking new. Sometimes he forgets to take off the tags. (Don’t look at the prices, do NOT) He never seems to wear the same thing twice. He also never seems to go shopping. Brands just give him stuff, and he shrugs and goes “yeah okay.”

The other half of his clothes are old, faded, and patched up. Every item he acquires for himself has deep sentimental value. If you tell him to throw away that nasty ten-year-old pair of frayed cargo pants, be prepared to find out how wrong and evil you are for even suggesting it.

He doesn’t snore; he coos. Loudly. Like a fucking pigeon trapped in a megaphone.

- - - - -

Dating

Gift-giving is his love language. Bringing your favorite snacks. Leaving novelty magnets on your fridge. He found a copy of that book/game/movie you mentioned like a month ago, don’t you remember? If he has to go out of town on a job, he’ll bring back the ugliest possible souvenir, just to annoy you.

He likes gifting jewelry especially. Covering you in shiny baubles, little golden things. Not expensive, but unusual. Antiques or handmade, even bizarre vending machine crap. Gets really handsy if you wear or show off his gifts.

Since you’re the first person who has given him The Feels, if you are resistant to his advances (like, say, because he’s way too famous and you’re terrified he’s gonna break your heart) he’s going to go fucking nuts trying to woo you. Doesn’t have a single patient bone in his body but will wait as long as it takes for you to come around. He’ll act like he’s cool with just being friends at first, just hanging out, haha. Oh you’re busy today? That’s cool. Inside he’s shrieking like a tea kettle. Go ahead, make him wait.

Don’t bother giving him a key to your place. He’s coming in through the bedroom window or patio door. Just put out a damn welcome mat on your balcony... or a bird feeder.

A bit of a voyeur. He likes to watch you do your normal routine without interruption. He can see from miles away so if you’ve got your lights on at night, he’ll creep for a while before he comes in. It comforts him immensely, seeing a little slice of the world that isn’t constantly in need of saving.

Is super talkative and funny but a terrible communicator. Makes more jokes the worse he feels. Will almost never tell you what he needs. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know. You will learn to read between the lines and gradually notice his tiny unconscious cries for help. Back rubs make him emotional.

He shows up at your place at the weirdest times. All hours. You’re never ready. At first it was infuriating, because you wanted to look your best and have time to prepare, but you figure out pretty quickly that seeing you in your natural state is his favorite thing. He never gets to be around normal people, doing normal things. A boring, lazy afternoon is his idea of paradise.

He’ll pick through your things and ask a world of invasive questions. A medicine cabinet raider. He wants to know every fucking tiny thing about you, live vicariously through you.

He actually lives in a top floor penthouse. Because I mean, where else? Never spends any time there; mostly he seems to roost on the balcony. He has used the front door maybe once. He much prefers your place, and will only take you back to his after months of dating. It’ll take like, an entire emergency. You’ll end up in his bed by mistake.

Because when you finally come over, he’s embarrassed. Its sparse. White. Things in boxes. A new furniture smell. Like he’s not done moving in, though he’s lived there for years. He wants you to move in So Bad but doesn’t want to be pushy. If you don’t start leaving your stuff there, he’ll steal things from your apartment. Where the hell is your favorite t-shirt? Or that pillowcase you like? Dammit Keigo.

He’s a decent cook, a habit he made himself pick up because he thought it might make him feel more normal. It... didn’t. He never actually cooks until you give him an excuse. He’ll bring you breakfast in bed and watch you eat every bite with big hungry eyes.

He’s got a separate wardrobe for his hero costume and all his feathers. Yeah. His feathers. Because he can detach and control his feathers at will, when he’s alone at home he kind of just... shucks off his wings. The first time you see him do it, your eyes fall out of your head. He walks around in a tee shirt and boxers with these ugly little stumps covered in brownish, blood-red down. It actually looks kind of gnarly, like he got mauled by a bear.

He’s never dated until you. No one has ever been in his apartment until you. No one has called him Keigo until you. He has some bigass intimacy issues. Because. Y’know. The trauma. But god, he wants you in his life so bad, even if he has no idea how to make time for your relationship.

He’ll want to keep you to himself for a while. Once you go public he’s going to have an arm around your shoulders at all times. Publicly Displays his Affection way more than is socially acceptable in Japan, and gives precisely -100,000 fucks.

His fans either love you or hate you. There is no in between. He will immediately take your phone and threaten to drop it from a great height if he catches you reading shitty gossip about the two of you. Does NOT care about his public image anymore, doesn’t want YOU to care about it either. He’s gonna retire soon anyway, remember? That’s a lie.

Being a charming motherfucker is the core of his public persona, so you will get jealous. A lot. He will flirt shamelessly without realizing it. He will get photographed in compromising positions with gorgeous people.

Once you accept that he’s basically an actor 80% of the time and that Hawks and Keigo are separate identities, you’ll both feel better. When he comes home (to YOU) and falls over exhausted and stops being Hawks(tm), when he scratches his ass or burps in front of you, when he yells to you from the bathroom, when he groans childishly about his shitty day while laying face-down in your lap, you’ll know you have nothing to worry about. Keigo is all yours.

Boundaries? Never heard of ‘em. He’s either a million lightyears away or he’s glued to your hip. The whiplash is astounding.

Absolutely says “I love you” wayyyyyy to soon. It thrills you but scares you off at the same time, because there’s no way Hawks - The Hawks - can actually mean it, right? (He does)

Rings? Nah. When things get serious, he will make a necklace out of a feather for you, and if you ever take it off, you better be asleep or in the shower. Even then you’re on thin fuckin ice. If you’re not wearing it he knows. He’s never mean about making you put it back on, it just makes him nervous if he can’t feel your heartbeat.

- - - - -

SPICY CHICKEN NUGGETS

High sex drive. Horny like 25/7. Probably a symptom of having way too much pent up stress.

Often takes care of it himself when he doesn’t have the emotional resources for anyone else, even his S.O. Figures you don’t want him coming on to you as often as he would like to, but he’s too stupid to talk to you about it first. Morning masturbator.

Yes he’s fucked around a lot but he’s not exactly a playboy either. People have always thrown themselves at him, and before he met you he let them do it. Especially when out of town and staying in a hotel. Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, etc.

He’d never be unfaithful to you though; his loyalty and dedication are frankly a little unsettling. Sometimes you feel like the only thing in his life other than hero work. Teach this man to knit. Make him join a book club. Christ. Anything.

Does in fact have seasonal mating patterns and it’s super embarrassing.

An underwear-sniffing perv. He’ll definitely hump your pillow.

Gets a sick thrill out of breaking in and startling you. Coming up behind you in the dark, sneaking into your bed. It’s probably his worst habit, and even he hates that he does it. If you get better at detecting him he’ll be so proud. Land a slap on him and he’ll be a horny mess.

Dog-whistles at you. Often from rooftops, and you have no idea where he is but you know he’s leering.

He will call you a lot of really stupid pet names. He likes the way you blush when he finds a newer, stupider one. Calls you angel when he’s really far gone.

Likes to scratch you with his stubble until your skin turns raw and sensitive. If it annoys you or hurts a little? Even better. Making you squirm is his new favorite thing. Especially when going down on you. Your inner thighs are always exfoliated.

His cock is average in every respect. This is not a bad thing. He knows how to please you with every totally normal inch of that cock. He has some kind of homing beacon installed on your sensitive spots.

Goes absolutely insane for blowjobs. Any time, any place.

Likes to bend you around in all kinds of positions with an assist from his feathers to hold up an ankle here, an arm there. Get used to floating mid-coitus. It just seems to happen.

Spanky.

His number one priority is making you feel adored and at home in his bed. Ohhhhh he likes to make you smile. But if you encourage him to get pushy and dominant with you, you will have a good, good time.

He’s switchy, and will lose his shit if you initiate or take control. Again, he’s always horny for you, because he can finally let go. Breathe in his direction and he’s hard.

Doesn’t moan much, but Babe, he’s a dirty talker. He’s not smooth or deliberate about it, it’s more like he can’t fucking believe you let him do whatever he wants to you. You like that huh? Like he’s in stages of shock. He’s singing your praises to high Heaven and muttering oh shit oh shit oh shittttttt and laugh-crying as he cums. He never talks about his feelings; he fucks about them.

After. Care. King. He loves pampering and clucking over you anyway, this is simply another excuse to do it. He knows exactly how much water you drink in a day. Can’t take care of himself for shit, but you? You’ll never have a need he won’t try to fill. What’s all that hero work for if not this? Yeah, soak it up. You deserve it.

[prettypinkpuddles]

Sally Face X Black Reader

♡︎𝙰/𝙽: 𝚒 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚂𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚒�� 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

♡︎𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜: 𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 ��𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕-𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝙽𝚊𝙵, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚂𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟶’𝚜-𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟶’𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚔....

♡︎𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚂𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔, 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

“Hey! Close the door!” You squeaked and hid yourself from the burning brightness emitted from the opened door. A small shadow slid through the opening of the door and quickly shut it, the word ‘sorry!’ repeated over and over.

Your eyes quickly readjusted to the darkness and you saw Sal, holding his school bag and a gameboy.

“Hey, Mask Boy.” You wiggles your toes at him and he hummed. “Was school tolerable?”

He shrugged, opening his bag and pulling out an orange car and setting it on the floor. You smiled and reached down to it, rubbing your thumb behind its ear.

“Hi Gizmo!” You grinned at the plump cat and he purred and pushed himself into your touch. Sal chuckled and sat next to his cat and leaned onto your knee. He began rambling about how his day at school was, how boring classes were, Travis, and a new oddity in the school he discovered. You listened to him curiously, albeit getting a bit agitated about Travis and his infuriating antics.

“I’ll come to school with you tomorrow….” You mumbled. “I know I don’t go much anymore, just having you and Larry give me my homework and letting you turn it in, but I’ll go with you guys tomorrow.”

Sal nodded, holding his excitement behind his mask and simply saying ‘ok’.

“You’re smiling under that mask aren’t you?” You teased and he didn’t say anything, just a noise of embarrassment. You giggled and ruffled his hair, continuing with your game.

“Did you get a new character?” Sal asked.

You sighed, “Unfornately no. They just gave me a stupid 4star claymore.”

“Hey! Claymores are badass!” Sal defended with a happy tone.

“That’s why I’d be a bow or pole arm user. Light weapons.”

You scoffed playfully, “Like you could even lift one! I bet they weight like 60 pounds!”

“Nah, catalyst needs no weight at all. Just waving your arms around with attacks.”

“Is that why you main Mona?” Sal smiled, watching as you used Zhongli’s burst to destroy a bunch of fatui.

“Hey! Mona is gorgeous.”

Sal took hold of his cat, stroking his tail. “She’s also very mysterious.”

“Which makes her even better! It’s written in the stars!” You grinned and Sal rolled his eyes.

“Ninguang’s better.”

You began quickly mashing your buttons, trying to defeat the stupid abyss lector in time so you could pass. Sal began chuckling at your rising frustration and when you started shouting for Razor’s burst to recharge, he lost it, bursting into a fit of laughter. You got really close to the TV and began shaking the controller, unleashing a purple wolf made of electro at the hydro abyss mage.

“C’mon! Just dieee!” You groaned and kept slashing the oversized fluff ball until it disintegrated into red ash. The timer stopped and it showed you with two stars. You raised the controller in the air and smiled, falling back onto Sal and cheering for yourself.

“You really hate abyss mages, huh?” He smiled at you and you pouted, raising a middle finger to the screen.

“Fuck you, fuck ya daughter, fuck ya grandmother, fuck ya dead great grandmother. Fuck you, and all ya kids. And your ugly ass motherfucking black ass son!” You jeered at the teasing enemies, a great distain for them in your heart. Sal crawled to sit between your legs and watch you blow through the spiral abyss. He urged you to use your bursts at times and would cheer for you softly whenever you managed to gain three stars. He undid his pigtails and pulled his fingers through them, even using it’s length to try and distract you.

You played for hours, co-opting with Sal and Larry to fight bosses, help Larry with his trash character builds and unlock all the waypoints in his world.

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

You looked at the school’s name hanging above it’s entrance with annoying and a twinge of fear. You didn’t even realize how long you were there until a hand intertwined itself with your left one. You looked at Sal, a smile coming to your face and you walked inside. You waved to Maple and Chug, seeing them at Maple’s locker with a a notebook and a pencil. You didn’t bother to stop at your locker, deciding to carry your bag with you throughout the day.

“Hey Y/N!”

You looked to Ashley who was putting lipgloss on in her locker mirror. She turned to you and waved to you, walking up to you and Sal. You smiled at her and the three of you walked to your first classes.

When you sat down, you heard your teacher make a hum towards you. You looked up at him and he lifted his chin.

“I was wondering when you’d return, Y/N.” He croaked, his neck turning to look at the door. “I figured you’d drop out.”

A few giggles came out from the corners of the class. You felt an arm on your side, telling you to let it go but you tilted your head with a shit-eating grin, “And I thought you’d be fired, yet we’re both here so..”

Your teacher narrowed his eyes at you, which only made your grin grow with satisfaction. He began teaching, mostly boring stuff about biology. The only problem was it was so boring you felt like sleeping, until a buzz on your waist kept you awake. You pulled up your phone and read a text from Larry, asking you to bring the ‘stuff’ from your locker. You replied with an ‘ok’ and continued to pretend to pay attention. Your imagination began to wander, thinking of how big Bowser must be. At least 9 feet, but that’d make Mario an Italian midget…. And peach would be like 5’7.

Lunch was okay, but you didn’t eat the school’s lunch, not after the bologna incident. You watched as Sal came up to you from his geometry class and sat beside you. Larry and Ashley joined you. Larry gave you a look and you pulled up a grocery bag to the table. Larry smiled wide and untied it, pulling out a container of Chinese food. Ashley gasped and asked how he got it.

“Don’t worry I got us all food.” He reassured and pulled out a box of tacos for Ashley and a container of sushi for Sal.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were going to school today.” Larry said.

“You’re good. I’ll steal you guys’ food.” You giggled and immediately snatched a taco from Ash. She made a face and it made you snort. You immediately covered your mouth of embarrassment, your friends laughing at the noise.

“It’s ok, it’s cute Y/N. I promise.” Sal looked at you with warm eyes and you nodded shyly, biting into your stolen taco. Larry handed you a piece of drenched chicken bite and you took it, biting into it.

“Yknow, we should actually go out for lunch. It’d be more fun.” Ashley beamed.

“Yeah but I don’t wanna hear a teachers mouth about us leaving….” You rolled your eyes at the thought.

“What’re they gonna do? Tell us we can’t eat?” Larry laughed at his words and Sal shrugged.

“This isn’t too bad of an idea… putting stuff in one of your lockers.” He said and you nodded, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him to whisper in his ear.

“On your birthday, I’ll leave some applesauce and pizza for you in my locker. Your favorite brand and shop, ok?”

Sal nodded eagerly, his pigtail bouncing with happiness. The four of you looked around to see some kids leaving for next class and you decided to do the same.

“Hey, shithead!”

Sal sighed at the aggressive voice and turned to see Travis, an aggravated scowl on his face. You rolled your eyes at the dumb bully and started to pull Sal to your next class.

“What the hell do you want Travis?” He said, rather annoyed at these interactions with the boy.

“You think because your bitch is here you can act all hard in front of her?!” He shouted, which made you a little pissed. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, what?”

“Travis, you aren’t even worth my time.” You declared and turned away from him. A set of heavy footsteps came rushing towards you and Sal, a hand shoving you to the ground and a few thuds landed in your eardrums. You saw yourself on the tiles, and Sal on his knees holding his mask. You stood up and stomped toward Travis. He had a nonchalant look on his face, asking you what you were gonna do, that you wouldn’t dare hurt him. You whipped your hand across his cheek, pushing him back into the lockers. You stared daggers at him as you helped Sal stand and walked him to another hall. As Travis tried to get to Sal once more, you stepped toward him and pushed him back again, a look of rage on your face was enough to tell him to stop.

You looked at Sal once you were around the corner, trying to see if he was ok, but he hid his face. His mask was clutched to his chest and his fingers did their best to cover his scarred skin. You peeled them off, telling him to let you look and he closed his eyes in fear that you’d be disgusted. You rubbed his jaw, blood forming on his bottom lip and a gross slit on it. You wiped it gently, fear of opening the gash or hurting your precious Sal. You eyed the bruised lip, decided to lean forward and give the blue haired boy a soft kiss. He looked at you with wide eyes as you smiled sweetly at him.

You put his mask back on mad began to go to your next class but he stopped you.

“Why’d you…. Why’d you do that?”

You patted his head. “That’s what couples do. We’re no different, Sal. C’mon.”

He nodded and the two of you quickly rushed to class.

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

You heard the door of your room open and turned to see Sal and Larry walk in. You nodded to them and they waved to you.

“Did you bring my food?” You asked and Larry put a bag of sweets on your dresser. You thanked him and Sal sat beside you as you clicked away at your mouse and keyboard. He watched as you looked at the cameras, flipped your bear mask on and winded up the music box.

“Hey… heyyyy, get back.” You ordered as you flashed the red fox. Then your fingers fumbled to pull the mask over your head and a broken down animatronic appeared in your office. You gasped held your breath, throwing the protective mask on, but to no avail. You died.

You groaned in frustration and reached for the box of sweetness, grabbing a soft cookie and biting into it.

“Why do you okay that game? It’s so scary..”

Larry mumbled. You smiled at his comment, saying the game wasn’t scary and that Larry was just a baby. He tried to defend himself, saying that the game was scary but when you started up the game and he saw the shiny new chicken move to another room, he shrieked.

You laughed as he proved your point and kept playing your game, trying to beat the night and advance. You listened to Sal and Larry go on about their school day and you laughed as you kept your focus on your game.

“Did Travis do anything today?” You asked and Sal shook his head. Larry gave you a look as you reached for another cookie, asking if something happened when you went to school. You shook your head and explained what happened with you and Sal.

“That little…..!” Larry fumbled his words from anger and you waved it off, telling him to calm down and to drop it.

“That blond turd won’t do anything. And if he does, I’ll kick his ass.” You declared. Sal smiled at your words, thanking you for your help earlier. You turned and smiled at him, “I’m your partner in crime. It’s part of my job description.” You turned back but saw a bright blue bunny with rosy cheeks jump for you, killing you. You groaned in frustration, hearing one of Larry’s screams of terror. Sal chuckled and apologized for distracting you.

“Alright you dumb animals…. Let’s see what you got.”

[op-imaginesandmore]

How would Issho/Fujitora, Doflamingo, Smoker, Arlong, and Gin react to their s/o dying in their arms? (human s/o for all of them including Arlong) Sorry there are so many the posts you've made so far I've enjoyed immensely. I love your style of writing! (:

I know it’s been *checks notes* actual years since I have touched this blog, but I kinda wanted to try my hand at a few of the asks I have in my inbox. I’m going to do just Smoker, and with each of the asks with multiple characters I will pick the one I am most comfortable with writing and go from there. I hope you like it! And also, to anyone who reads this and likes it, thank you! But my ask box will remain closed until…idk, probably a long time. I don’t want to get any one’s hopes about about anything.

Pairing: Smoker x GN!reader

Warnings: Angst, character death (you asked for it), mild descriptions of injury, mentions of blood, implied smut (mildest of spice), unbeta’d if that is a warning

***

The OP was supposed to be a simple one. Get in, do reconnaissance, stay under the radar, come back with what info they needed on the pirate crew, get out.

No one thought Big Mom herself was going to recognize Y/N, because you were good at your job. You had been spying for the government for years, you’d worked with Smoker as one of his subordinates, had infiltrated countless pirate crews, revolutionary bases, treasonous scum that thought they could get away with anything, and had always succeeded in your job.

Lay low, go unnoticed, get the info, come back to him. It was a perfectly organized system that was like clock work, each gear turning for the purpose of civilian protection, and justice.

Until now.

Blood soaked the beach he was kneeling on, who’s it was, he had no idea. Could be his, was probably the pirates’ that were scattered around the Vice-Admiral like debris after a storm, but what infuriated him most was it was most definitely yours.

Wheezes, broken and wet, escaped from your lips, swollen eyes looking up into stoic grey that was like looking into twin hurricanes. Anger, righteous and intense, swirled around with frustration, concern, grief, and an emotion you knew from your quiet moments between soft sheets and the hard planes of his body.

So gentle you barely felt it, he lifted you from the sand like something precious, your blood dripping down his arms and pooling beneath your broken body. Your eyes, swollen and bruised, squinted up at him and a soft smile cracked painfully across your lips.

“Hey handsome” you rasped, a cough that was soaked with blood spurting out. Smoker put a large hand through your matted hair, jaw clenching as he tightened his hold on you.

“I’m gonna get you to the ship’s infirmary” he seethed through his teeth, the usual multiple cigars he kept there like pacifiers long gone. He made to get up, but the cry that came from your lips was shrill and heartbreaking. He immediately stopped, holding you to his chest in a hold soft enough for a newborn.

“I know it hurts, but you need-“

“Do you remember Alabasta?”

Smoker stopped, looking down at your broken body that had the audacity to be giving him the smile that always managed to make his heart flutter in his chest like a crushing school girl’s. He swallowed thickly, not trusting his voice and opting for a nod.

“You were such a baby about Strawhat, I thought you were going to implode when he had his crew mate save your life.” You reached a trembling hand to his face, stroking the rough stubble of his jaw. Almost involuntarily, Smoker leaned into the soft touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as memories of their time on the desert island came to mind.

It had been the first time you had ever yelled at him, calling him reckless and blind. Telling him you were thankful for Strawhat, grateful he had saved his “stupid, sorry, ass” so you had the chance to give him a piece of your mind. He had retaliated with a practiced speech about being your superior, about how you should worry more about your job than what he was doing, how you shouldn’t talk to him like that.

Then you had the nerve to yell at him that you didn’t have a choice but to worry about him. When he yelled at you back about the why, instead of answering him you kissed him square on the mouth.

Their first kiss was in the moment, it was all teeth clacking and sudden and Smoker had been blindsided, but also hadn’t been. The two of you had been flirting with the line between officer and government agent for months at that point, subtle glances and bold, shameless flirting on your part had morphed into soft and subtle touches and hours of listening to you talk about everything and anything.

When the shock of it had worn off a second after you started kissing him, he hadn’t expected for himself to kiss you back. He had adjusted your chin, softened the kiss, and wrapped his arms possessively around your waist and lifted you, your legs wrapping around his own waist in a way that sent chills down his spine as he carried you to his desk. He set you down upon it, gentle as can be, but your legs stayed around his waist, his hips grinding into yours in a way that had him growling. Your lips had been like soft, plush, velvet on his own chapped ones, tongue sinful in its exploration, running against his to beg for entrance.

The two of you broke apart, you were panting, your face flush as you put your head on his chest and listened to the quick thumping of his heart. He smelled like a cigar, a hint of sweet fruit in a haze of earth and smoke that always managed to make your head spin. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you licked the taste of him from them.

“I worry about you because I care about you Smoker” you looked up at him, your eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the sunlight coming in through the porthole of his cabin “probably more than what’s appropriate for a working relationship, but I don’t want to hide it anymore.” You put your hand on his face, stroking the apple of his cheek in a way no one had ever dared touch him before “if you don’t want this though, we can stop right now and never talk about it a-“

Smoker was kissing you again, softer but with a passion that turned your whole body into jelly that molded into his. It was brief, too brief for your liking but he was looking at you with a smoldering gaze that promised more.

“We do this, we tell no one.” He said with conviction “I can’t have my subordinates thinking I have favorites, and fraternizing could get me and you in a lot of trouble.”

You nodded, understanding alighted in your eyes as you coyly bit your kiss swollen bottom lip.

“If that means I get to see your smoke powers at work in the bedroom, I’ll take an oath of silence”

He felt his body react, his hardened length against your thigh making you squeeze your legs together, bringing him impossibly closer.

Smoker’s chest tightened at the memory.

“I’m glad” you said, swollen gaze growing distant “that it all happened the way it did. The last year and a half has been the best of my life” another cough, violent and cracking in its intensity that it had you whimpering into Smokers chest, and his eyes were burning with the tears that were inevitable now.

“Y/N-“ Smoker started, the deep rumble of his voice cracking “baby, you’re gonna be fine, let’s just-“ he took a breath, steeling himself to try and lift you up again, but your head falling limp against his chest stopped him, made the breath leave his lungs and, for the first time in a very long time, Smoker felt true terror grip his careful self control.

“Y/N?” His voice, so unlike the commanding bass it usually was, soft and broken as the body he held “Y/N? Sweetheart c’mon, wake up” he shook you, your head lolling to one side and then the next awkwardly, before it rested back on his chest and Smoker realized your uneven breathing had stopped, the rasping, painful breaths gone quiet and the only sounds to be heard on the bloodied beach were Smoker’s own uneven hyperventilating “Y/N please! You-you can’t do this! Baby, c’mon-open those pretty eyes, please! Y/N? Y/N!”

He held on tight to your body as he slowly broke down, the tears running rivers down his face that had smudges of your blood on it from holding your body up to it, his face buried into your hair as if he could revive you if he held on a little tighter, begged a little harder to whatever god or devil would listen. His cries broke through the silence, their only companion the lapping of water against the sand and gore. He rocked back and forth, clinging to your lifeless body like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

That was how Tashigi found her Vice-Admiral, sobbing into your hair as he begged you to wake up. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, but she had to keep him moving, had to remind him of the duty he still held.

“Vice-Admiral Smoker?” She breathed, caution in her tone, heartbreak threatening to pull her under when his breath caught. He looked up at Tashigi with a tsunami of emotions that she had never seen him display. Heartbreak and grief worked in tandem to make the ever stoic and statuesque officer crumble to his knees.

“I’ve gathered the survivors of our platoon, we’re awaiting your orders, sir”

There was a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch for an eternity, Smoker looking down at his dead lover, the emotions that had been raging across his face draining from his being, and was replaced once again with the careful stoicism that his position required of him.

He got up slowly, you still cradled against his chest as he looked out at the horizon. It was another long moment before he spoke.

“We bury our dead, then we take the fight to the one who started this.” There was a fury in his words that struck fear into Tashigi, a fear for how reckless her Vice-Admiral was about to be against a Yonko.

“But Smo-“

���Did I fucking stutter?” He whipped his head around, the grey of his eyes burning with an unbridled rage that seemed barely contained “I’m not gonna rest until every last piece of filth that carries the name of Charlotte are wiped from every ocean from the East Blue to Raftel.” He glanced down at the body in his arms, a soft, broken look before the rage hit again.

“They’re gonna pay for what they’ve taken, I’ll make sure of it personally.”

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 2

“Since when do we buy each other sextoys?”

> genre : light angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 5k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; chaotic oc; clueless koo

previous - next

It all starts with the first box and the vague memory of a warm touch on your face.

When you wake up that morning, groggy from exhaustion and the sensation of having spent the night waking up, again and again, you sense something. You struggle to point out if you’ve dreamt or if it really happened, but there’s the lingering of a warm hand's trace, cupping your cheek, soothing the stress lines on your forehead, and softly brushing your hair back from your face. You can’t tell if it’s happened but it left a lovely sensation both on your skin and heart. 

You get up and out of bed, slowly stroll to your living room with a lazy hand raising to your head, meaning to scratch at the snake nest you expect to be sitting on it. Instead, your fingers are met with a rather neat braid you definitely didn’t go to sleep with as you were too fucking done with this day to even try and deal with your tight bun -the very bun that elongated your time to fall asleep by at least a good half an hour. The same fingers that caressed your face took care of your hair and you know exactly to whom they belong. 

Of course, giddiness ensues and the mildly serious feeling of mortification -you despise the idea of not knowing in what state he found you, in what state of ugly, of dishevelled, of smelly. There’s no room for embarrassment in this friendship, not this kind anyway, fortunately or not, he’s seen you at your worst (at a time when you didn’t care much if he did or not) so it counters, always a bit, the shame.

He hasn't left your side yet, has he? And he’s exposing himself to this face of yours, so why should you feel bad about it? He sneaks into your apartment at night just to brush your face and bring the covers up to your chin, tuck you nicely in as if he’s your mom or something, so why should you care. He doesn’t seem to mind. He never seems to mind. He’s the best of friends. The best of all the people you know and the best of your friends. 

And of course, naturally fitting this role, you’d find the morning of Christmas, a mysterious box you’ve never seen before sitting on your coffee table. 

The girls, your friends, have presents for you, you know they do, but yesterday you were working and couldn’t see them, therefore, the little celebration was reported and you didn’t expect, you wouldn’t expect them to come at night or early in the morning to bring you your gifts. It can wait (so they decided). 

But Jungkook is sweet like no one else is. 

And he came to wish you a merry Christmas even if you were too tired to wish him back and he left a present for you. 

There’s not a name attached to it but it’s obvious it comes from him. There’s just a post-it he stole from your desk, with a Merry Christmas written on it, the lines of the letters, round and neat, you’d recognize from any other lettering and a bunny with teeth as big as the eyes smiling at you, drawn next to it. 

The box is so pretty, you feel an actual pressure thinking about opening it, as if there is a certain way, a proper way, to go about it. 

And apparently, there is. You go wash your face and rinse your mouth, prepare yourself one of your good teas, tear the curtain wide open and slowly, almost ceremoniously, take a seat on the ground, right in front of it.

The box is neat. You don’t know what’s inside, probably a perfume or some kit for the bath you’d assume, but you already know that whatever is inside, even if it’s not of your liking -which is impossible, it comes from Jungkook-, will be balanced out by the appearance of this perfectly elegant, tasteful box that you’ll use again to stock anything, maybe your face masks, maybe nothing -it’ll just sit, looking good on a shelf. 

It’s a pastel blue, with a black rose drawn on top of it, the icon to a brand you absolutely don’t recognize. With fingers trembling with excitement you drag the box to yourself, it’s mildly heavy, for some reasons, it gives you a little rush of anxiety. There’s just a tiny black ribbon holding the box firmly closed. A tiny pull on it and it slips open. 

Slowly you lift the lid, a grin already plastered on your face, hurting your cheeks. You expect a blinding magical light to come out of it, with the sound of bells ringing near your ears and sense to suddenly knock into you as you’d understand what wondrous present is in front of you.

But none of it comes. There's just a thing hidden inside a black satin bag.

It’s not a perfume nor a bath kit and you’re confused.

A bit scared.

Honestly, maybe a little shameful part of you has guessed it. But the louder yet weaker rest of you can’t see it. It would be too... ludicrous. And wouldn’t make sense, would it? You’ve never actually seen any in real life so how would you know what the packaging would look like and how would you come to this conclusion now? And how, why, how would he, Jeon Jungkook, come about to offer you this?

Doesn’t make any sense. 

But somehow, when you pick up the courage to open the little bag and drag the object out of it, you hardly even gasp in surprise when you discover a dildo. You just let it drop to the table, thumping loudly the fake wood. 

Why did you guess it to be that and why did he get you this shit?

Scorching red seize your face and your whole being.

You are infuriated.

How dares he? You are mortified.  How dares he?

What does this fucking mean? 

A joke?

Is it a joke?

If it a joke then what’s the fucking point? It’s not fucking funny. It’s weird as hell and you can’t believe he came in the middle of the night, pretending to be Santa to leave you a fucking kidding present as if your miserable life needed that. 

And if it’s not then what the actual fuck? Does he think you’re that desperate? Does he have really no notion of boundaries?

Conveniently your phone lays centimetres away from the offending thing, you don’t even need to get up to grab it and therefore, you start looking furiously for his name in your recent call list. After only two rings as if he was just expecting your call, his bright hello reaches your ear. 

“What the actual fuck, Jeon?” He must hear the madness in your voice, both the anger and the hysteria. There’s a pause during which he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a sound and you even check your screen to make sure he hasn’t hung up on you. 

“That’s- not- the reaction I expected.” He sounds sheepish. Mumbled words, lisped syllables, long pauses. 

“What did you expect?” You yell a bit, you can just picture him, dragging the phone out of earshot and winding, the same way you do when your mom who doesn’t get the concept of telephone screams in it each time she calls you. The realization hits you, that in your quiet little apartment, in this (for once) quiet morning, you are screeching like a banshee. You quiet down instantly, some of the anger soothed down by embarrassment. “Are you insane?” You whisper in his ear and comically, he starts whispering too, with the same alterations to his usually bright and open tone. 

“M’not. I just- you said that’s what you wanted so I got it for you.”

Now he’s making stuff up and blaming this insanity on you and that serves to raise a bit more the bar of anger -along with the loudness of your voice, “When have I ever said that I wanted a-“ You choke on your own saliva once your brain realizes that you’re supposed to say the word, out loud, to him. In an angry whisper, as if someone, your mother, for example, could be listening “fucking dildo!” You blush furiously at that and it’s ridiculous. Probably the reason why you didn’t own one in the first place and maybe shouldn’t yet. Because you’re a grown-ass woman of a quarter of a century, living alone and admittedly independent and responsible for your own existence, but you can’t even say the word “dildo” out loud to this asshole of a friend who apparently, and that’s new news, doesn’t have an issue talking about sex and everything related to it with you. 

“Y-you said-“ There’s a pregnant pause. You can’t know for sure since you’re not seeing him if he’s faking it or not but he sounds confused as hell. Like he genuinely doesn’t understand what’s wrong. Moron. “You said you wanted sex but not a boyfriend so I thought- it’s pretty much- it’s exactly what it is. Why are you so mad?”

The question in itself serves to drag you a little further over the edge. So much so, it clogs your brain with anguish and leaves you unable to give him an answer.

When he’s starting to talk again, maybe ask again his question, you just hung up, slamming your phone down on the carpet. 

You hear it vibrate to life twice before it shuts down completely. Good. At least he knows you well enough, still, to assume rightfully so that you won’t pick up his calls anymore. Not today.

You just have the time to pack the dildo back in its bag and inside its box, throw away your tea that tastes unbearably bitter and maniacally scrub your face in an attempt to get rid of the red patches that don’t want to fucking leave before the telling high beeps of your front door’s digital lock alert you. Your face is soaking in cold water, another attempt to cool it, your face and your troubled mind.

You mean to ignore him. Dipping your head further in the filled up sink, closing your eyes tight shut hoping somehow it’ll help you push aside the calls of your name better.

For a few seconds, it works. You can’t hear him anymore. You wonder if the furious pleas you were chanting in your head could have been loud enough to make the sound of the door slamming behind him as he would have left, completely quiet.

He’s such a try-hard. You hung up on him because he’s saying batshit crazy things and his first reflex is to barge in your house again. You really need to change your lock and not tell him. You can do that. You’re an adult and you have the right to your own fucking place. It’s not a fucking benevolent stay in, for fuck's sake. 

The cold water really seems to work. You feel better, light-headed, coming down after the earlier hysteria. And knowing that he’s left and won’t pursue this mess any further, for now, surely helps a lot. 

Except it doesn’t last for, as soon as your face leaves the water, your hands reaching clumsily for a towel that falls magically in them, one wipe at your eyes and your worst nightmare is standing right in front of you. 

“Fucking- Jungkook!” Burying your face back in the towel, drying your face as much as possible, maybe even trying for a second to suffocate yourself, you wish vainly that when you’ll take it off he would have disappeared.

He is still here though. Watching with dark eyes and a straight severe line replacing the cute button he owns for a mouth, he looks awfully serious for a guy that’s never really serious. Your towel ends up centimetres away from his face, he catches it right before it touches him. You hoped it would blind and confuse him momentarily, long enough for you to escape but of course, this guy would never miss a shot, even a surprise one. 

“Why are you like this?” He asks when you try and push him from the ribs, out of the door frame. You hate that you think about it. About his chest being so hard and warm and his fucking smell of sweat that you’d recognize amongst any others (pretty easily as any other makes you gag and this one, probably because you’re a primary animal guided by hormones, leaves you dizzy and wanting). He doesn’t budge until he decides to, mercilessly stepping aside to let you through. Because you’re an idiot, you don’t think and head for the living room and it’s only once you’re there, very aware of his steps following you, that the devilish object of your discord is right fucking there, obnoxiously sitting on the middle of your coffee table. You groan and squeeze your eyes tight.

What meditation technique, an extra effective one, could you use right now before you definitely lose it and throw yourself out the window?

Before you find one, you end up clinging to the opposite wall, forehead pressed to it, back to him, in a vain attempt to suppress yourself from the situation. You might look a little insane or at best, somehow on edge, but who cares at this point?

“Jungkook, if I don’t pick up your call, do you think I want to see your face?” 

“But why though?” His tone is still harsher than usual. You notice it and you notice you don’t hate it either. What a little bitch you are. If you like his usual self, with the bright smile, soft words, boisterous laugh, dainty manners, you can’t deny that this rougher version of him, genuinely pissed off as you’ve never seen him, tickles your fancy. You’re fucked. “Seriously these days you- you’re such-“

“I’m what?” You bark, swirling on your feet, expression distorted by an offence he hasn’t even made yet. You completed the sentence he’s never finished with terrible words that you’ve never heard him use talking about anyone: bitch, hysterical, cunt. 

“You’re trying to pick a fight with me all the fucking time, I don’t get it!”

Now you feel terrible. You’re still bothered by the raw edges of his tone, it’s literally sending electric shocks to your lower tummy. But his eyebrows have dropped and his fiery dark eyes have turned shiny and sad, your heart hurts in your bosom.

Ugh.

You’re such a bitch. 

“I’m sorry. I know I’m insufferable. I’m on my period. Sorry.” You send a mental apology to womanhood. You're just an idiot lacking imagination. 

Jungkook frowns, his eyebrows dancing in all kind of ways, before they settle for an, unfortunately for you, attractive finale, one straight down, one tilt up. He stares at you, dubious. 

“For three weeks. You’ve been on your period for three weeks.”

The first thing you take notes of is the fact that he dated it way shorter than you would have. Honestly, you found yourself becoming a weirdo with inappropriate feelings that reindeer you into an asshole for at least a month and a half. Before that, it was extremely tamed, totally under control. You’d just notice his handsome face and cute smiles and nice smell, thinking “oh yeah that’s right. He’s kinda attractive. How funny I never really noticed.” And slowly it progressed to not being able to handle him touching you without having something close to a panic attack.

The second thing you note is that he doesn’t believe you. His stare is insistent, turns a bit dark as he lingers, studying your own eyes with judgment in his. He’s frowning even more, looks down at the floor and sighs so deep, heartbreakingly so. He looks hurt that you’re lying and don’t want to share what's really been up with you. If only you could be a better liar. 

“It happens sometimes, all women are diff-“ 

He just sat down on your sofa, eyes fixed on the blue box. Before you can finish your sentence, he sends you a glare that awfully looks like a threat. You shut up. He doesn’t believe you anyway. He knows you and your periods (sort of) way too well. He knows you’re in pain the first day, you’re a bit tender on the following ones and he takes it upon himself to be gentler and not try to play WWE with you on those but you don’t turn into a mean dragon. This much he knows for sure. 

There’s something he’s seeking for within the box. He’s grabbed it, holds it now in between his fingertips, piercing virtual holes into it. It’s probably the answer he didn’t find in your eyes. 

It makes you flush furiously. Seeing his pretty hands with his long fingers touching it. Here’s the reason, he would have caught it on your cheeks if he wasn’t so busy looking for it elsewhere. 

“I really thought that- you’d like it.” He sounds so saddened. You’re caught off guard. Again. So this present wasn’t meant to be a joke. It is a genuine one. It makes sense that he’s hurt then. You’re shitting all over his gift but how could you not? How could he believe that you could just accept that for a random gift? Slowly he makes the top of the box slide up, pout sucked in in concentration, dimple out. Your heart seems to stop at that. He’s not going to take it out, is he?

He can’t take it in his hands.

You’ll die if he takes it in his hands. 

Fortunately, he just opens the box, looks at the satin bag, looks at it with a pained expression as if he feels bad for the thing, then closes it back. 

“The woman at the shop said that it’s one of the best ones, for starters.” He sulks like a child. Bottom lip all plumped out, shiny eyes under curved eyebrows.

Jungkook looks up at you, ultimate sad puppy look on.

“She said the size and the texture were perfect if you’ve never used one before. It wouldn’t be too... what was that again?” He asks aloud as if you’d know. And you’re mortified. On behalf of him. The concept that he’s not embarrassed right now and that he went to an actual shop, browsed through the shelves and asked an actual saleswoman for help is absolutely insane. Unbelievable if it were not for the sincerity he’s dipped in. “And I picked blue because I know you like this colour. It matches your planner, doesn’t it?” He adds as if he’s not sure when obviously he knows.

It is surprisingly very close in shade. And so what? He expected you to love it so much, take fucking aesthetic pictures with it and your planner sitting on your fake marble desktop, next to Diego the succulent? What an idiot. And for how fucking long did he talk to that woman?

Silence hangs heavy between you. You watch as he scowls some more, mumbles under his breath while staring with despair at the box.

Slowly, resolute to be the better friend you have not successfully been these past weeks (months), you leave your protecting wall. Taking a seat on the carpet, on the opposite side of the table, you do your best to ignore the blue patch invading the bottom of your vision and try to give him the softest expression you can come up with at this moment. 

“Why are you so butthurt?”

His curiously perfect round eyes raise in a swift motion, pouty lips agape in a silent little gasp. 

“Sorry.” You apologize before he even gets to respond because, maybe, you could try harder to be good and nice to him. 

“Because it’s a present.” He starts at a very slow pace. He pauses between words like he’s addressing a dim, dim brain. And he might be honestly. But he’s one to talk. How can he not see an issue? “That I’ve looked for and bought for you. That’s why I’m butthurt, what do you mean?” 

“But- since when are we buying each other-“ You need to grow up. There’s no one else but him hearing you and since your last conversation about it, when he too was embarrassed, he’s able to say it just fine apparently. Still, you whisper the following, “sex toys?”

“Since you turned twenty-five and said you were interested in it.” His right-hand raises from the box to start flapping the air and you know it means bad news. He’s upset. When he needs his hands to further accompany his speech, it means he’s a bit too taken by the conversation. And in this case, you don’t feel like it’s a good idea for him to be. “When you were fourteen and into Legos, I bought you a set of Legos.”

Hardly makes sense. 

“You’re just going to pretend it’s a random present?”

“It’s not random. I put thought into it.” His eyes are digging up intensively in your own. It might be desperation that leads you to remain still, allow him to look. Hopefully, he won’t dig deep enough to find stuff he shouldn’t. “Why do you hate it? I thought- I don’t know- you’re a- flourished single woman and-“

Flourished? Really? The words don’t come out of your mouth but he reads them on your face and an adorable smile cracks open the mask of gravity.

“Jungkook.” You owe him an effort. Maybe you should look into why it requires an act of inhuman courage for you to admit your shame. It might be because if he were anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by the present for five seconds because clearly, you’re still half of a fucking child but soon enough, you’d probably be enchanted by the thing. Who doesn’t need a good sex toy? You definitely do. You thought about getting one for a long while but never got to it for some reasons and here’s one offered to you (in a very pretty shade of baby blue).

The thing is you don’t think about anyone sexually except for him (and his friend Jimin, once in a while, just by curiosity because the guy is a very sexual being). If you don’t even consider them in this light, you don’t have to think about them using it, do you? But he’s all you think about, unfortunately. And you’re friends. And it feels like one step closer to your fantasy while simultaneously one step closer to betrayal. And he certainly is not offering you this wishing for you to keep close in mind the fact that this is his. His present. He knows about it. Maybe can think of you using it and liking it without any further implications. Because obviously, it’s not like that for him. “It's awkward. How can you not see that.”

“Is it? What is?”

“First of all, we don’t- we- don’t even talk about... it. And suddenly you’re buying me- this?”

“Yeah, I realized that too!” It’s too much enthusiasm. Eyes too big and hands not leaving the air. You can already guess his next sentence. It’s probably going to be a terrible suggestion. “I talk about sex all the time with the guys,” Your eyebrows jump to your hairline at that. You’re not even that surprised but the formulation could probably be fixed. “and you talk about it with your girls, right? But we’ve known each other the longest and we never talk about it. Isn’t it fucked up?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’-”

“Well, I would. I am.”

“Don’t you- don’t you see that you’re a boy and coincidentally you can easily talk about it with the guys who happen to be boys and I am a girl, right? And I-“ Who would have thought? It took you fifteen years to finally be giving him the beginning of the talk about the birds and the bees. You would have given it to him sooner if you’d have known how far behind he’s been. 

“But what if I need girl advice-“

“I’m sure Jimin knows a whole lot about girls, Jeon.”

“From a girl point of view. Real girl advice.”

“Jungkook-“

“If I ask what the G spot exactly feels like, what-“

“Jungkook!” 

He’s amused, the fucker. He’s not as clueless as he sounds. But the crooked grin on his face is too telling. He might just be messing with you. Usually, when he’s just playing he wouldn’t insist so much, he wouldn’t take the conversation this far so surely, there are some genuine intentions. However, he's still having way too much fun.

With his frowned nose, and squinting shiny orbs and stupid bunny teeth. 

“You’re just embarrassed, aren’t you?” You might have terribly loud red streaks painting your cheeks that you try naively to cover with your hands. He can see it all and silently, he nods his head, looking like he’s reached the final touch of his experiment. “How? What happened to the teenage girl who spent her nights writing dirty stories about Harry Styles?”

Horror.

How the fuck-

“How the fuck do you know about that?”

“You showed me!” He defends, hands high above in the air like a soccer player claiming innocence. “You did! You don’t remember?” No, you don’t. But you can tell he’s not lying. Apparently, young you was quite the fearless bitch.

What happened indeed? 

Years happened. A growing sense of self-preservation along with them. Undesired feelings for an idiot with a bunny smile. An inappropriate sense of shame along with those. 

“Anyway. So it’s a bribe for girl advice?” You ask, chin pointing to the box. Jungkook looks down on it, drums his fingertips lightly on the top before he looks up, beaming. 

“Sort of.” Shrugging, he adds with a shifty eye that telltales a certain vulnerable sincerity. “I just wish for us to be able to share everything. Be comfortable like before.”

“Before what?” He stares for a long time, mouth shut. He then blinks the moment away and for the first time, you might believe ever, Jungkook looks like he might have a secret too. 

“Just before. Back in the days, I mean.” He simply explains. His attention is back on the stupid box. He’s staring at the rose on top of it. Fingers playing with the corner of it. 

“Back in your old days.”

“You’re older than me. So you really don’t want it?” Here he comes again with the sad puppy face. Why would it be breaking his dumb little heart to refuse a dildo from him? What kind of insane parallel universe is this? “Is it like a 'men are fine but little Jeon Jungkookie still has cooties so I can’t accept his present, it’s gross'?” 

“Something like that.”

“Oh.” Defeated, he sighs. Another one of those soul-harming sighs. “Fine. I’ll get it refunded and you’ll buy yourself something else with the money then.” 

Is he really going to make you do that?

As if the question is even to be raised. He can make you do anything. 

“No, Guk, sorry. It’s fine. Sorry.” You start, hands clasping over the box you drag your side of the table. The only way you can do it is if you don’t actively think about what’s inside. “I’ll keep it. Sorry.”

“So you kind of want it?” He is grinning from one ear to the other. You can feel him giddy and excited, kind of jumpy on his seat and really, you don’t see any difference with the excitement he portrays each time he gets you any kind of presents and you tell him that you like it. 

“I won’t use it.” It’s almost a threat. Eyes squinted in severe slits, index finger millimetres away from poking his eye. “It’s a gift so I won’t make you get a refund, that’s rude but- I won’t use it.” After a second of seemingly deep reflection, he breaks out in his loud, annoying boyish laughter. Eyes watery at the corners and hands clapping like a stupid seal. “I’m serious!”

“Sure.” He’s still cackling, the idiot. “But you should. The lady said it’s a best seller too.” 

“Great. I don’t care.” 

He has his eyebrows high, a twitch in his wide grin, and the amused black orbs. He doesn’t believe you one bit. “Course, you don’t.”

The idea that he sincerely expects you to use it might drive your delusional brain for a loop. He just wants to be the best gift-giver, the best Santa, and wants you to make good use of whatever he's got you. But how can he not consider that you could not use something like that, to pleasure yourself, when it’s directly related to him, your best friend? It’s weird as hell. It can’t be just weird to you. 

Unfortunately, there’s no one you can come up with the question to have them agree with you. You already know what the girls will say. They’re even worse than you when it comes to Jeon Jungkook and your ambiguous (on your side solely) friendship. They’ll say the ship is sailed and start buying themselves bridesmaid matching dresses.

They don’t understand. It’s not like they’ve grown up with someone like him. Someone rather simple, authentic and kind, so much so, so much more than most people, that it turns him complicated because so different from other humans you can meet. There’s nothing to be read in between the lines with him. It’s always lovingly honest, blatant, generous.

He doesn’t mean anything else behind the gift besides a “have a good one!”. 

And you didn’t mean anything else but the truth when you said you wouldn’t use it. 

At the moment, anyway, you meant it.

A/N: hoping it makes sense and is not too raw, edited it at midnight TT; may i manifest a sugar daddy that would pay me to stay home and write fanfiction for you guys all day :). i really hope you like it, and hope also that you can handle the secondhand embarrassement because even i struggled. let me know what you think of the series so far, sending everyone reading this an infinite amount of virtual kisses and hugs, take care of yourself, love yourself and others a lot, BYEE.

tag list: @moon-asia​ @btstrasht​ @jkbangtan7​ @taehugger​ @kaepjjangiya​ @daggerbeneathmygown​ @cuteipat​  @jinsalpaca​

PLEASE ASK TO BE TAGGED IN THE COMMENT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER! TY <3

[siimjaeyun]

blue bag- jay park

genre: fluff, angst, bad boy au

tw: street violence, mentions of gangs

-------

Jay's reputation at Belift wasn't exactly a secret to most people. The loose uniform with the leather jacket, covered bruises, and exposed tattoos were noticeable to anyone who bothered to pay attention.

Most people would like to assume to not judge him by his appearance, but his character matched it to a tea. He never bothered to give anyone the time of the day, much less even look in their direction. The only people who received such privileges were his closest six friends.

Or anyone who dared to cross his path- including the slight punches he's thrown at the occasional classmate.

But people couldn't see behind his intentions. Like the time he almost beat one of uppers to a pulp when they tried picking on jungwon his first year. All good intentions.

On this fateful day, the teacher had thought a slight change would mix things up. Instead of placing Jay in the back by himself like usual, he placed him right beside you.

"Hi Jay!" Your warm welcome startled him to say the least. Sure, he was used to love letters by other girls, but you didn't really look at him that way.

He stayed silent and placed his head back onto the desk. At the end of class, you bid him goodbye and walked out with your friends who seemed to tattle over him almost immediately.

-------

After yet again another argument with the rivaling gang leader, he finds himself cornered in the back of an alley way. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to think you could fight five men at once.

Tired, and out of breath, he's barely holding onto himself before there's a final blow to his lower stomach, collapsing onto the ground before him.

The men are about to approach him, this time, aiming towards his back, but retreat at the sounds of a siren.

"Here, hurry! They might come back." He looks up and finds it's you, carrying a bag in one hand and reaching out towards him with the other.

"Get lost." Jay, who is too stubborn to ask for help, attempts to get up before his knees give up on him.

"You can't walk. Stop being a bitch and let me help you." You swing his arm over your shoulder, and pull him up, guiding him towards the exit of alley way. At the closest convenience store, you rest him on a bench, bringing a towel to his face to wipe off the blood from his brow and lip.

"How did you see me?" He barely manages to ask.

"I didn't know it was you until I saw your face, which is very beat up by the way." He observes quietly and patiently waits for you retreat the towel from his face, slowly admiring the way you move your eyebrows while humming a small beat. 

“I’m done. I’ll call a taxi to take you home so you can finish up. I’m going to assume this isn’t the first time you get beat up.” Jay, snapping back to reality, stands up quickly and blocks your view of the street. 

“I can manage. Now go home.” He nods towards the direction of the grand city. 

“You can barely walk. Either I take you home, or text someone to come pick you up.” Jay immediately takes the second option, and searches quickly for his phone before realizing he must of left at it home. 

“Go ahead, call the taxi.” He mutters under his breath. The bright lights signal to him that he has arrived, and in silence, you drop him off, and leave, not letting Jay even look back and say a quick ‘thank you.’ 

----- 

If Jay didn’t know any better, it’s almost as if nothing had occurred yesterday. He’s still wearing his black mask to cover up his bruises, but you walked in with a smile and the same welcome from the past two weeks. 

Usually, he would turn the other way or not even bother to look at you, but his slight nod was reassurance enough. 

At the end of class, he was almost the last to leave, given that he had woken up from napping the entire class. Rather than seeing the empty room he was used to waking up in, he saw you again in front of him, holding a blue bag. 

“Here. Eat well okay?” You left the bag onto his desk and walked out again before he could respond. He stuffed the bag into his backpack and went towards the lunch room he was used to meeting his friends in. 

“Jay’s late and beat up. What a surprise.” Sunoo’s snarky comment doesn’t catch him off guard, and instead pulls out the blue bag from his backpack and rests it on the table. 

“Oh? Jay brought lunch? Quick, let’s rate his cooking skills.” Before Jay can react, Heeseung had already snatched it from the table, pulling out a Tupperware with a sticky note on top. 

“Who’s y/n? And why did she call you a loser?” Heeseung asks, opening the container to a bento box. 

“No one, now give it back.” Jay takes back the container, almost admiring the contents inside. 

It was the first time his heart began to take notice of you. 

----- 

Everyone was quickly suspicious about Jay’s relationship with you. It all started with him publicly going to you and thanking you for the food. Then it was the constant good mornings when you would welcome him at the beginning of class. Then it was the morning coffee, and walking you to class in the morning. He was practically stuck to you when he wasn’t with his friends. 

“You know, I think Jay likes you.” One of your friends mentioned casually, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Stop taking those rumors too seriously, he’s just paying back a favor.”

Yet, your friends weren’t the only ones who were beginning to notice. Most noticeably, Jay’s very own friends. 

“Sunghoon, I don’t like her, so can you shut up?” Jay, almost irritated by the constant confusion of emotions. 

“So, you wouldn’t mind her being so close with Sunoo?” Jake points at your direction. You laughing and trying to hold yourself together while punching Sunoo in the arm. 

“No. Of course not." Yet, he still finds himself burning holes into Sunoo's skull as he sees you wrap an arm around his neck to pull him into a head lock.

It seemed as if that was the last straw because in the next moment, Sunghoon was attempting to prevent Jay's next big mess.

"Get your hands off him." Jay commands, catching not only your attention, but those around him as well.

"Relax Jay, she's just playing around." Sunoo gets himself out of the head lock, and looks at your face who's been cleared of any laughter.

"I'll see you later Sunoo." You can't even look at Jay in the eyes before walking off with another friend.

"What's wrong with you? You know she wasn't hurting me!"

"Don't talk to me right now Sunoo." Jay storms off in the opposite direction while Sunoo turns his head to the side at Sunghoon.

"Am I going to die?"

"Not yet anyway. I think if you stay off y/n, maybe it'll extend your life line." Sunghoon states honestly.

"What do you think would happen if I told him she's my cousin?"

"I don't know but I've never seen Jay so..like this. Its a good look on him."

However, Jay is his full fledged rage, begins to shove everyone in his way including a poor freshman who happens to fall in front of your locker.

"Jay what the fuck!? Are you okay?" You crouch down and reach your hand out, giving Jay a bitter feeling.

"Is this how you catch men? You pretend to be the good guy?"

"Excuse me?" You repeat, shocked at Jay's sudden attitude.

"Nevermind just stay away from me? Got it?" You don't even process the words before he dashes off, ignoring his friends who are attempting to catch his attention.

"Sunghoon, what's his issue ?" Sunghoon only let's out a heavy sigh before shrugging his shoulders.

"It's not my business, but I can assure you that anger won't end well."

-----

And it just so happens that Sunghoon's response was quiet accurate considering Jay's familiar situation. He's been long enough member of his gang to know what territories they're not exactly welcomed.

Yet, he doesn't care and does so anyway because anything is better than having to imagine you with some one else.

"Haven't seen you in a while Jay, must have been busy hmm." The leader mocks him, but it only infuriates the pent up anger within him causing him to land a punch at his gut.

"Don't test me." And as if history repeats itself, he finds himself once more cornered in the back of an alley way. With the collection of bruises forming on his stomach, one could tell he was a kick or two away from a good surgery.

"Jay! Stop!" He curses himself mentally when he watches you run towards him.

"You better leave pretty one...I mean unless..." He approaches you, reaching for your chin to tilt it sidewards, leading to Jay using his last strength to push him off you.

"Don't touch her." Jay grits his teeth, earning a smirk that quickly turns into a frown at hearing the sound of police sirens.

"You got lucky this time." He flees the scene leaving you again with a bloodied up Jay.

"You promised me to not fight anymore!" Jay chooses to ignore you and limps away to a nearby post.

"And I told you to stay away from me y/n. I don't need people like you to worry about me because they pity me" He responds.

"How am I not supposed to worry when you left so suddenly? One moment we're good and the next you're mad at Sunoo and everyone?" You place him on the stair case while getting your first aid kit ready.

"How am I supposed to stay away when you worry me? Do you have any idea how fast I ran here with this when Jake told me you weren't at your house?" You continue to apply a bit of alcohol on his open cuts.

"I'm sorry, I was upset. I saw you with Sunoo earlier and I don't know what came over me. Sunoo is so darn perfect, and what about me? I was afraid you'd leave me." Jay mumbles the last part quietly, but you manage to hear it well.

Without much hesitancy, you press a light kiss onto his bruised and swollen lips. He gasps slightly but manages to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I'm not leaving okay, I'm here to stay if you want me to." Jay grabs you and pulls you in for a hug, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

"Please stay." He mumbles, letting his grip on you get stronger. He stays there for a while, before looking at the blue bag in your hand.

"What's this?"

"I brought some dinner because I figured you would be too lazy to do it yourself and end up eating frozen nuggets again." He smiles slightly before admiring your features.

"I really like you y/n.." Jay confesses, still in the position of hugging you.

"I like you too Jay...I really do." A grin forms on his face and he drops another kiss on your cheek before leading the way out.

Perhaps Jay wasn't exactly perfect, but you always knew he was more than ready to love and learn by your side.

------

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts haha, but I figured we could all use a little fluff with everything going on :( <3