#he can be a troublemaker but i've never seen him understand that he did something wrong

[fullyanimated]

i have a very talkative cat and when he needs something or is looking for me it often sounds a lot like "mamma" (mum in norwegian)

that's very cute and funny how it sounds like he's calling for me but sometimes there are very small children outside actually saying "mamma" and sometimes they sound just like my cat. it's a big fear of mine, telling my cat to "stop yelling" and the yeller being a toddler calling for their mum

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Playing with fire's only gonna get you burned. Unless you're, like, into that kinda thing.

kai parker x reader

summary: things have been disappearing from your room lately, but never would you think kai is the one to blame.

tags: 1994 prison world, friends to lovers, snooping (it's very 'fuck around and find out'), mild argument, sexual tension, touch starved, kissing, touching, playful sex, teasing, fingering, vaginal sex, relatively mild smut, overstimulation, cuddling

word count: 5.5k

a/n: this fic is sponsored by wellbutrin... kidding. but that's the only reason i've actually been able to sit down and focus / write lately. this was requested eons ago, and with the greatest guilt, i'm just now posting it. also, i wrote it in a day. as in, today. i hope it's okay. <3

It started out innocently. A curious snoop in a big, almost-empty mansion, inhabited by two abandoned people left here by their families. 

He hadn’t expected her to go digging around in his stuff, and she didn’t think he’d come home early. Both were wrong. And as the thin material slips from beneath her fingertips in shock, he gives her an indescribable look. His nails rap on the wood of the doorframe and she stands, speechless. 

“Uh…”

“Hey, princess. Like what you see?”

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

The Salvatore Boarding House is where you found him. You wandered for some time before running into him and finding his company relieving. 

Of course, getting to trust Kai took some time. You found common ground in the fact that you both were hated by the Gemini Coven. Both had been sent here by them; Kai, sixteen years ago, you, only one, and both had been frowned upon by their families. But while you shared the same enemy, you were afraid for a while that Kai would be an enemy, too, considering what he did to be sent to the prison world. Apparently, as reported by his own tongue and the daily paper, he had slaughtered four of his siblings in an attempt to kill the youngest two. He didn’t feel much sorrow, nor regret, over his actions, and explained his methods of killing with a rather monotone voice. When asked if he’d kill you, he shrugged. 

“No point in doing that, really. It’s not like you can die, anyway.”

And that was that. 

For weeks, you feared him, but he got better as the days passed. Kai’s actually pretty funny and can cook well. And though you’ve never said it out loud, he’s pretty cute, too. Over time, your companionship turns into a friendship. You swap stories about your past and come to understand each other better. As cold as life has made him, you don’t think he wasn’t always that way. The more you grow to trust him, you start to see a side you’re not sure he’s even seen in himself for years. Sometimes you forget you’re all alone in a prison together, save for the fact you’re the only ones there. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like a sentence for a punishment you both may or may not deserve. 

But lately, something’s been off.

It’s not that anything’s changed about Kai, but more so that it just feels… different. The young witch is the same playful, unserious boy you’ve known for months, but a few times, you’ve caught a glimmer in his eye you can’t quite decipher. He’s a troublemaker for sure, and though you’ve never seen malicious behavior, your head is filling with questions if he’s capable of some other kind of behavior you haven’t considered. 

Basically, things have been disappearing from your closet. Your favorite bracelets, a few lip balms, and clothes, even some you know you threw in the laundry bin. For a bit of time, you blame it on the same-day repeating thing. Maybe the gloss you stole from the department store has just been returned to its original spot to be sold. Maybe yesterday’s pair of underwear went back to the bottom of your drawer. Maybe the shirt you wore when you entered the prison world got swept through some portal back to the real world, because you hadn’t worn it here yet, so it must not be able to exist. 

One morning, ruminating thoughts swirl in your mind as you try to mentally explain the disappearances. It’s a rather new thing - within the last few weeks - and nothing like this had happened in the first couple months you were still roaming the empty earth. 

At the kitchen counter, you must seem lost in thought, because Kai shuffles a pancake off his spatula and onto your plate then nods. “What’s up?”

“My clothes are disappearing.”

“What?”

“Have you ever had that happen to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Out of my room. I’ll toss a shirt in my hamper, and it’s gone. My favorite chapstick isn’t in my nightstand drawer anymore.”

“Weird.”

“You’ve never lost anything?”

“I mean… misplaced things, yeah. But I know I just put them somewhere where I can’t remember where I put them, y’know? Maybe that’s it.”

“Maybe.” You take a bite of the food and smile up at him. “Ooh, perfect! Thank you.”

He returns the smile with a wink that makes you shyly look down. You eat in a comfortable silence, omit the CD player beside you being just barely audible; Billie Joe Armstrong whispers uncharacteristically rather than shouting into your ear at nine in the morning. 

He starts to speak again while gathering the dishes. “Hey, I need to take a quick trip to the store today, want to come?”

“Wait, why? We just went?” You ask, frowning. 

“That house down the street had a cookbook I’m borrowing-” you chuckle at the word choice, “-and I’m gonna try one of the recipes in it, but we need, like, half the things in it.”

You think about it. Going grocery shopping with him is always an entertaining experience, but you were planning on flipping your room inside out to look for your stuff instead. The most recent thing to disappear was one of your favorite underwear sets, and if you don’t find it, it’ll drive you crazy. Explaining this, though, sounds ridiculous, so you make an excuse. With a shrug, “don’t really feel like being cold today.” Despite no one around to operate it, Bell’s refrigerator section stays cold. 

“You have a jacket. Or you can borrow one.”

“You always take, like, ten years in there, and the cold seeps through eventually.”

He gives you a sassy look, but it’s true, so he knows he can’t really argue. “Alright.”

“Plus if you’re trying a new recipe, it’s going to take even longer for you to find everything you need. And then the recipe won’t have enough detail, so you’ll sit there for five minutes, debating if you should use brown sugar or light brown sugar.”

“Okay, you’ve made your point!” You smile in satisfaction. “I’ll go by myself. Won’t take more than an hour.”

“Two, maybe.”

He glares at you, but you only laugh. Kai, by now, is harmless to you. You can poke and prod him all you want and know he won’t hurt you. Maybe if his family put a little trust in him, they would’ve known that, too. 

“I’m leaving in ten.”

“Okay. Be safe from any vortexes that could contain aliens coming to invade our planet.”

He stares at you, then gives a playful roll of his eyes. You laugh. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t make sense. You’ve flipped your room about a thousand times in the last hour and nothing, not a single one of your lost items have appeared. It’s actually driving you insane. On second thought, you might be going insane. You know internally that stuff doesn’t just disappear in this world. Some things might return to the way they were before - the Dookie album annoyingly starts at “Burnout” every morning that Kai presses play; the grocery store is always fully stocked, no matter how many bags of chips you take in a single day - but things don’t just get lost. The prison world has structure, in its own extremely aggravating way. If something’s missing, you lost it. 

But you’ve flipped your room three times to no avail. If something’s missing, it must not be in your room at all. You sigh, sitting in the middle of your now-messy room, and think. It is possible that they got mixed up in the laundry with Kai’s stuff and neither of you noticed. Of course, that doesn’t account for your two missing chapsticks, but maybe those were in pockets that ended up in the laundry, too. You crinkle your nose at the thought. If that’s the case, that chapstick and the hoodie it’s in are definitely ruined. 

With the new idea in your mind, you head to the laundry room to check it out. It’s a rather long walk down the hall and to your left, making you wonder, again, whose house - sorry, mansion - this is in the present day, and could they be living here now, in the real world? You and Kai have talked about it before, made bets on the residents’ identities and personalities. Kai thinks it’s the mayor’s, and that he’s some oldish rich guy with a trophy wife, who needed to live far away from his “village” to exude “dominance,” as if this were the middle ages. That, or a thousand year old witch who moved out here to never be bothered. You swear it’s vampires, but he always shakes his head, “that’s not a thing.” You think otherwise.

But regardless of who lives in the house, you can both agree it’s an insane amount of house for anyone. Though, neither can complain about the dungeon in the basement. It’s a nice touch. In fact, every house should have one. 

The laundry room checks out to be clean. There’s not a single sign of anything missing or out of place, and by this point, you just feel like giving up. Maybe the laundry ate them in the way it always seems to eat one sock. Oh well, because the constant search is only stressing you out. You stand there bored for a moment while trying to think of something to do. You could read; the library downstairs must have a thousand different books. Or, you could snoop the mansion. Kai’s shown you tons of stuff he’s found over the years: diaries, letters, secrets. Whoever lived here has quite the story to tell, but those things aren’t always easily found. The letters had been hidden in books, and between closely stacked books, and the most telling diary he’s found was in the floorboard of the furthest room on the right. Surely there’s more that Kai hasn’t discovered yet. 

You decide, then, that the best entertainment will be to snoop around the old Victorian home, because… why not? You can’t settle down enough to read, and when has anyone not had fun digging into other people’s business? After all, that’s what got you sent to the prison world in the first place. 

A part of you is most curious about the dungeon, so you decide to start there when something in the corner of your eye makes you pause. A lock, uncharacteristically on Kai’s bedroom door. It’s odd, considering the openness between you two; you’ve never felt the need to hide things from each other, and you’re not sure when he started feeling differently. You stare at it, curious and a bit hurt, before inserting your nail into the hole on the bottom. Again, you ended up here by pissing off one Parker, what’s stopping you from egging on another? And what would Kai possibly do to you that would hurt you? Like you told yourself earlier, towards you, he’s completely harmless. 

In a couple minutes’ time, you finally free the lock of its duty and push the door open. Inside, it looks normal. He’s always been clean and his room is no exception. You’ve seen it before, when he didn’t feel the need to put a suspicious lock on it, and it looks the same then as it does now. Still… that little weasel is hiding something, and you’ll be damned if you don’t at least peek. You step further inside, leaving the door wide open so you can hear if he comes back. 

To your displeasure, a five minute search yields no secrets. You’ve looked under his bed, in his drawers, and everywhere else that’s definitely invading his privacy, but hey, you were under the impression that there was no privacy in the prison world. You start your way back to the door, but then open the closet you had previously ignored, just in case. It checks as normal, but then… up high, in the corner, sits a little box out of reach. And by out of reach, you mean even for Kai, who’s rather tall, meaning even he would need a stool to retrieve it. Curiosity quickly gets the better of you and you fetch the nearest stool to grab it. Something this well hidden must be fun. And who knows, maybe it’s the residents’ mystery box, and Kai doesn’t even know it’s there? At least, that’s what you tell yourself to excuse your nosiness. 

Though, immediately upon opening it, that’s proven to definitely not be the case. 

A whiff of perfume floods your nose the moment you take off the lid. It’s familiar, and warm, and quickly, you realize it’s yours. Then, your heart drops at the first thing inside - something he should not have, and frankly, shouldn’t even exist -  which is a polaroid of you. Specifically, of you on your side, asleep, bare chested, with your comforter just barely covering your hips. Your spine is the main focus of the shot, but a little bit of your exposed breast shows. You drop it with a gasp. It flutters down and lands in a different place than where you had picked it up, revealing more. Each polaroid in the stack shows more and more of your body in every shot. Sometimes, your breasts are covered by a thin, lacy piece, but more often than not, your top is completely bare. Your comforter, luckily, stays at your hips, and the one or two times it slips further, you’re covered in your favorite floral set, but then you pause. That particular set disappeared a while ago, and now, you think you know why. 

Dropping the polaroid, you remove all the photos from the box to reveal what’s hidden underneath, and oh, does it shock you. Instantly, you eye your favorite set, causing you to swallow hard. Your perfume’s also in the box, alongside all your missing items: your chapsticks, bracelets, and three more pieces of your clothes. That rat. He’s been taking your things the whole time! Then giving no more than a shrug when you bring it up. Kai has been sneaking into your room at night, taking pictures of you and stealing your things, then acting none the wiser in the day. You try to feel angry, but you’re more shocked than anything. 

Hesitantly, you pick up a pair of your underwear, inspecting it as if you can’t believe it’s really there. You roll your eyes in disbelief as it slips off your finger, back down into the incriminating box. 

A knock raps on the doorframe. You freeze; you hadn’t heard anyone come in.

“Hey, princess,” Kai says, standing there, “like what you see?”

Your mouth falls open, a thousand words rising up your throat, but none of them coming out. You were shocked before, but then his sudden entrance and his laidback reaction makes you angry, and when he stands there, waiting for your response, you only find yourself shocked again. Surprised, that he’s found you digging through your stuff, yet doesn’t seem to care. 

That is, unless, the anger is bubbling underneath his fond smile. You know that Kai has an unpredictable edge to him. Sometimes, he’s quiet in his anger and lets it stew before exploding. You’ve only been on the receiving end of it once, ages ago, when you were still getting used to each others’ routines and you got too much in his way. You’ve seen it since then, but not directed at you: his father, mostly; his lack of magic; his misguidance about the world. But sometimes, oftentimes, he’s short in patience and snappy in reaction. He responds to disruption the same way his father does: suddenly, mercilessly. It’s all he knows, after all. 

But the Kai standing in front of you now, watching you, is neither of those things. He doesn’t seem angry or agitated. Caught off guard, certainly, but while that look is interpreted through his eyes, a small smile counters it. You stare a bit longer. Amused is more like it. He’s amused by your reaction. By you finding your clothes in his room and having no idea how to react to it. Initially, his posture held some indignation, probably because you were going through his stuff and had picked the quite secure lock to do so, but any ill feeling dissipates at the look on your face you’re sure is amusing to him. 

You try to replace your shocked look with a stern one. He only laughs. 

“Want to tell me why my stuff is in a box in your room, which was locked, by the way, not sure if you’re aware. Since when do we lock our rooms, Kai?”

He looks surprised by your sudden snap. Good. Unfortunately, he recovers quickly. 

“Want to tell me why you’re going through my stuff in the first place?”

You scoff. “I think the more pressing matter is the fact that you’ve been stealing my clothes! And- and- not only stealing, but look at this-” you toss a polaroid at him as if he hasn’t seen, taken, them himself- “how long have you been lurking in my room while I’m asleep?! Taking pictures of me sleeping? Not caring if I’m literally nude in half of them?!”

“I’d argue the nude ones are the best ones,” he says with a shrug. 

You scoff again. “What would possess you to do this? Why are you taking my stuff?”

“Y’know, princess… What’s funny to me is that your questions are just questions.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You’re asking questions simply to know the answers. A playful curiosity. There’s no anger in your tone, no spite in your words.”

“Oh, I’m angry, Kai. I’m pretty fucking pissed off right now.”

He only chuckles. “Still not hearing it. See, I know anger. Anger’s my father, who has a harsh bark but a nastier bite. You, my angel,” he crouches down in front of you now, “have no bite.”

“Fuck you.” You push his shoulder. He barely sways, but you were kind of hoping to knock him over. You wait a moment, then try again. 

Kai, though, easily predicts your actions and grabs your wrist as soon as it comes within his reach. He holds on with a tight grip and you almost lose your balance. 

“Let go,” you grumble, raising your other fist. It only makes it halfway before he grabs that one, too. “Kai.” You struggle in his hands. “What the fuck? Let go of me.”

“Ah, ah.” He tilts his head to the side, a look that means nothing but trouble. “You were a bad girl to go through my stuff.”

“It’s my stuff, actually.”

“It became mine the minute it crossed the threshold of this house. You became mine.”

“What the fuck does that mean? This isn’t even your house!”

“But it is my prison world. Built for me when I committed a crime so heinous, they felt the need to lock me up. But you… what are you in here for? Stealing a book?”

“It was a grimoire, you fuck. Your father’s. So clearly my crime was equally heinous and they sent me here, too. The moment I got dropped here, this no longer became just your world.”

“You raise a good point. But still, I was here first. And I’m the oldest of my siblings, so I can tell you what to do.”

“You have a twin,” you counter, “who’s probably older than you by now, considering neither of us have aged, and you’ve been here sixteen years already. She’s probably… thirty-eight by now? Probably married, has some kids, a nice house.”

“Stop talking,” he snaps, tightening his grip on your wrists. They burn, but it doesn’t bother you. Egging him on is more fun. The tight cord of his control is breaking. 

“I’m just saying. Oh, and your younger twins, the two you didn’t get to kill. They’re, uh, twenty, now, I think. I saw them, actually, when I broke into your father’s house. They’re both blonde, wherever that gene came from.”

“Y/N-”

“Jo wasn’t there. Not sure where she went. Probably does have a house somewhere. Somewhere far, far, away from fucking Portland. Good for her, that place is a shithole.”

His grip tightens, his body almost shaking with anger now. “Stop. Talking.”

“Or what? Are you gonna attack me?” You put on your best puppy eyes. “Show me your bite’s worse than your bark? Because I’m just proving to you that I can bite. Don’t like it, do you? Yeah, well, I didn’t like finding my lingerie in a box in your room, but I guess we all can’t get what we want.”

Whether it was your words or the sass in your tone, he finally breaks. With a sudden force, Kai pushes your fists into your own chest, knocking you to the floor. You gasp a little as your head hits the wood, but you have no time to dwell on it as he climbs on top of you, pinning your fists now over your head. 

“You want to see me bite, is that it? Don’t think I have it in me because you’ve never seen it for yourself? I can be ruthless, Y/N, I can make you regret-” he pauses, jaw dropping as he realizes you’re giggling. 

“Regret what?” You urge. “Were you saying something?”

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N.” His eyes are dark, but not in a way that scares you. Instead, his pupils are dilated so much they look dark. He stares into you desperately, gaze fighting between your lips and your neck, as if unsure where to attack first. 

“And yet I’m just a girl, laying under a boy, asking to get burned.”

He doesn’t get the quote. It’s after his time. But the message is clear: you’re under him and you’re not fighting to get up; you provoked him enough just to send him off the edge; you were never really that mad about the pictures or the clothes. 

He pauses. Okay, maybe you were a little mad about it. He did go out of his own way to creep across your boundaries. But still… had he not, you would’ve never ended up in this position. You should probably thank him for that. 

You swallow, with difficulty because of the way you’re laying, and his eyes drop to the bob in your throat. He snaps out of a daze. 

It happens before you know it, his lips on yours. He starts soft, waiting for you to reciprocate, and the moment you do, he gets rougher, more confident, as if this is something he’s always wanted, but he’s so unfamiliar with being able to touch, that he holds back at first. 

You’re much less hesitant, though. You offer kindness to him through your words, but you’ve never touched him much, knowing how foreign it is to him. You’ve wanted to give in, to hug and hold him and kiss his cheek before you go to bed, but you were never sure how to bring it up. He’s guarded in his emotions. They’re there, but they’re locked away with a key you haven’t been able to pick. But this, maybe, is the first step. 

You’re not sure when you stood up, or if he picked you up, but in a second, you’re off the wood and plopped down on his bed. The pillow beneath you smells like your perfume and you raise an eyebrow at him. He tilts his head again - no comment. He’s kissing you again before you can say anything, effectively distracting you from the whole thing. One hand props himself up over you, while the other lightly grasps your neck. Both of your hands are tangled in his hair, scratching and pulling gently. You break the kiss, out of breath, and he trails his lips down your neck instead. Your back arches instinctively, and a giggle escapes your throat at a sweet spot. In a matter of seconds, he sucks a bruise into your skin before moving down further. Your shirt, very much in the way, is pulled up and off, followed by your shorts. You copy the action, pulling his own off him and immediately letting your hands explore his chest. It’s only fair, you think, considering all the times he’s welcomed himself to the sight of your body. 

Distracted, you miss him pulling off your underwear until they’re dangling on one finger in your face. You tilt her own head in confusion, then feel your jaw drop as he throws them in the box. 

“Mine.” He winks.

“No! Kai-”

You’re cut off by your own moan, provoked by the feeling of his touch on your bare body. He smiles, clearly pleased with himself, and touches again. 

“Those are mine,” you try to argue. 

“Are they?”

With a new bite, you lunge forward and surprise him, bringing him pause. You take control for thirty seconds, unbuckling his belt and sliding off his jeans and boxers. A gasp escapes his throat, the cold air hitting his cold, now exposed body, in addition to you seeing him for the first time. 

“These are mine then.” You toss his jeans on the floor, but keep his boxers like a prize in your hands. 

His look is unimpressed. “You wish.” He tackles you easily, prying the material out of your hands to ball up and throw, laying you back down, crawling over your body, licking his lips, eyeing you like prey. It happens too fast for you to react, and before you know it, you’re forced back into submission, him dominating easily. 

“Y’know, for someone not used to touch,” you pant, relishing in the feeling of his lips around your nipple, “you sure seem to know what you’re doing.”

“Instinct, baby.” 

“Oh, really?” 

He shuts up any further remark by meeting his body to yours, erect cock rubbing against your clit in a way that turns your brain to mush. “Yeah, really.” You don’t fight back this time. “So easy to please,” he mutters, his fingers moving to your clit at the feeling of precum rising up. 

“Stop teasing,” you whine, growing desperate. 

“Not teasing, princess. Just getting you ready.”

Pressure builds like a coil low in your stomach. You squirm, arching your back and shivering in pleasure, at the same time you mutter, “don’t stop.”

“Don’t move, then, baby.”

You try your hardest to listen, but it’s almost impossible with the way he’s touching you. The long fingers you’ve always admired rubbing in perfect circles. The lust in his eyes as he draws you closer and closer. The wetness on your thigh where his aching cock drips with its own need. 

“Kai-” you cry for a second as he stops. He spits on your clit, then laps it up with his tongue, sucking now, while his fingers open you up below. “Fuck.”

“You okay, princess?”

“Mhm,” you nod weakly. 

The coil’s so close to snapping. You won’t survive much longer, not with the way his tongue works so beautifully against the sensitive spot, and especially not when he looks up at you from his position, eyes still dark with lust, yet focused, as if this is the most important thing in the world. 

“Kai-”

“Mhm?” He asks without detaching. The vibration that it causes is what finally breaks you. With an eager moan, you finally come, the force of it shaking your legs and core. Kai sucks you through it and only lets up when you start begging, “please, please, please, I can’t-”

He ceases, and immediately crashes his lips onto yours, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. 

“You okay?” He asks between wet, open-mouthed kisses.

“Mhm.”

“Alright, good girl. Ready?”

“Please.” 

Of course he can’t deny you when you ask so politely. 

With a deep kiss, he distracts you enough to push in. You take him well until you’re almost full, gasping into his mouth and sinking into the mattress. You squirm a bit more, body reacting to the sudden intrusion, but settle around him soon enough. 

“We’re good?”

“Good.”

“Let me know if you need to stop.”

He starts slowly, pulling out a little ways and pushing back in, kissing you sweetly as he does. But then as your body adjusts and clenches around him, he picks up the pace to an even speed. His mouth drops from your lips to your neck, sucking more bruises into your delicate skin. You keep your hands tangled in his hair, pulling, grasping, moaning more as the pressure starts to build again. 

“Y’know,” you stutter, trying to speak as he thrusts. “Making me come once isn’t going to make up for you stealing my underwear.”

You can feel his smile grow against your skin. “Oh really?” He presses a kiss to your neck. “How about twice? Three times? Four?”

The color drains from your face at the thought of coming four times in one day. You really need to learn to stop challenging him. “I-”

“Yeah, four sounds good. Let’s try for that.”

He has slowed down a little to make conversation, but as soon as his mind is made, he picks his pace back up. His troublemaking smirk stares into you, waiting to see if you’ll challenge him again, then falls back on your neck once he sees he’s won. 

In the end, Kai holds true to his promise and coaxes three more orgasms out of you before his hips stutter. He pulls out and releases on your stomach, panting hard. You lay beside each other, completely exhausted and overstimulated, until he finally drags you up and into the bathroom. In a way, you do win, because he dresses you in his own clothes - boxers and a hoodie - before pulling you downstairs with him. You’re still determined to get your clothes back somehow, but as your eyes flutter sleepily still, you decide to table that for another day. 

That evening, when you settle down for your usual nightly movie, you find yourself laying against his chest with his arm around your waist. He seems more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, and the noticeable difference makes you smile. 

“If you wanted to touch me, you could’ve just asked,” you half-tease. 

“Hm.”

“I like you, too, y’know.” He finally looks away from the tv, eyes dropping to you instead. “Way before all of this. I’ve had a crush on you for ages.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Fear of losing you?” You shrug. “Not only are we the only people here, but… you’re also the only person I’ve felt ever close to in my life. I didn’t want to do something that would make you uncomfortable, or make you hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” he admits. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “And I think I’m the one who crossed the ‘uncomfortable’ boundary.”

You laugh. “Yeah, you did. You crossed a very big boundary.” You tilt your head and run your tongue across your lips. “But… it doesn’t make me uncomfortable with you. Nor angry. Maybe in the moment, but certainly not now. Actually… it’s kinda hot, now that I think about it.”

Despite his passing nervousness, he can’t help but laugh. “I did say you’d be playing with fire.”

“Guess I should’ve headed the warning.”

You curl closer into him, adoring the way he responds so quickly, running a hand through your hair and dancing his fingers on your skin. It’s easier than ever to relax around him. Right now, this prison world feels like anything but a prison. 

~~~~~~~~~~

In the night, you sneak into his room, polaroid in hand. It’s rather easy, the lock is gone now and his door is cracked open, practically inviting you in. You tiptoe up to his bed, focusing the camera on Kai’s shirtless form and snap a quick photo, snickering to yourself. But then, as the old machine whirrs in action, your target opens an eye. You back up, glancing between the boy in the bed and the door. He groans, laughing on the tail end of the tired sound. 

“Whatcha doing?”

“Karma, baby.”

“Mhm, good try.” He eyes you in a way that sends a shiver up your spine. “Y’know… the way I got so many of you is because I was quiet.” 

“Uh-” You look at the door again - big mistake. The moment your eyes are off him, his arms around your waist. “Ah, Kai!” You screech, head hitting his pillow for the second time that day. 

He positions himself on top of you, practically sitting on you, and takes the camera from your hands. “Tip number one, snap the picture and leave before the camera starts to sputter.” He sets it on the nightstand. “Tip number two, stalk someone who’s a little less obsessed with you. That way, they might not be able to hear your every move.” Before you can reply, he’s kissing you again, with as much passion as he had only hours ago. 

[heart-shaped-pebble]

The Black Cat

@flufftober Prompt day 1: Lost pet meet cute

Summary: Sejanus and Coriolanus first meeting, with the help of a soft friend

Tags: fluff without plot - modern au

Note: I'm alive and actually writing?? First day of flufftober woo 🥳

Coriolanus had always found walking in the park to be extremely relaxing. It was the beginning of October, the brown leaves that had begun to fall a few days prior made a satisfying crunch under his shoes when he stepped on them, and the chill air was no bother to him as he wore the warm red scarf Tigris had knitted for him.

It had become his daily routine, every morning before his University’s classes he’d take a walk in the park and sit down on the benches for a few minutes, just enjoying the peace and quiet of the early autumn mornings. 

Daily routine which, apparently, had to be ruined by a cat. 

Coriolanus had never been the biggest fan of animals. He didn’t have a specific reason for it, he just didn’t understand all the fuss about it. If he had a penny for any time he had seen someone swoon over a puppy (especially a dog) on the street, he’d be so rich he could buy a house for him, one for Tigris and one for his Grandma’am. 

And why? Because they were “so cute and adorable!”? What was so cute about an animal who ate its own vomit?

Coriolanus had never stopped to pet a stray in the streets - didn’t people even consider all the germs they probably have? - and he wouldn’t have today either. No matter how much this black cat would rub itself against his leg, interrupting Coriolanus’ perfect morning. 

“Go away.” He said annoyed, gently shaking his leg so the cat would get off. “Find another leg to hump, stupid animal.” Coriolanus mumbled. If he had been more heartless he would have probably kicked the cat away, but he didn’t hate them that much.

Either way that cat had really seemed to be taking a liking to Coriolanus, who was starting to get tired of the situation. He sighed and got up, starting to walk away, understanding that his usually perfect routine had been interrupted for that morning, when he noticed the cat was following him.

“Are you kidding me? I said, go away! I have no food on me, and I sure as hell am not another cat you can get pregnant. Or get pregnant with.” He cringed at his own words, not believing he was actually having that argument in a public space, outside, with a fucking cat.

“Well I’d sure hope so.” Coriolanus immediately turned around to check who had spoken. He found himself in front of a curly haired boy, probably his age, staring at him amused. Coriolanus wasn’t one to get lovestruck, but he had to admit the guy was really attractive. His eyes especially, so big and brown, staring at him with a unique innocence in them. He quickly shook those thoughts away. He didn't have time for those irrelevant feelings in his life, especially now. He had to focus on University, and nothing else.

Realizing in what situation he had just been caught in he suddenly blushed and cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “Sorry for that. This stray won’t leave me alone.” Coriolanus said, tugging his pants up to move the cat away. 

The other boy chuckled - Coriolanus decided to ignore how beautiful it sounded - and walked close to him. He knelt down and picked the cat up, which purred in his arms as the boy rubbed its belly. “She is not a stray. Her name’s Sissy, and she happens to be my cat.”

Oh.

“I’m so sorry.” Coriolanus began apologizing, which wasn’t something he usually did, but he had to get out of that embarrassing situation somehow. The cute boy just chuckled again.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, I should be the one apologizing. This adorable troublemaker got out of the house as I opened the door.” He said, adding the last part with a baby voice, giving his cat heart eyes. If Coriolanus didn't find this guy attractive, he would have probably fled the scene long ago now. 

“I've been searching for her for over an hour now. Between you and me, I was starting to get really worried. I'm glad you found her.” The boy bit his lip nervously. “I'm Sejanus by the way. I'd offer you my hand, but I don't want Sissy to get away again.”

Despite himself Coriolanus gave him a short smile, which Sejanus reciprocated. “Coriolanus Snow.”

“Well, Coriolanus Snow, something tells me you don't really like cats.”

“Oh it's nothing personal, I'm just not an animal kinda guy.” Coriolanus said defensively. Why on earth did he feel the need to justify himself with him? “Never had a pet, and will never get one.” 

Sejanus shrugged and grinned. “Who knows, never say never.” 

Coriolanus frowned, annoyed at the way Sejanus was talking to him. Who did he think he was?

Sejanus seemed to not-so-shamelessly check him out before licking his lips and saying, “Maybe I can change your mind over dinner?”

Coriolanus scoffed amused, although he had to admit the idea of going out with Sejanus didn't seem so terrible. “So soon after meeting me? I could be a killer for all you know.” 

Sejanus shrugged and shifted the way he was holding Sissy in his arms. “So could I. But fair enough, maybe just a coffee then?” 

He really wasn't going to let it go, was he? “Alright, but I choose where.” 

Sejanus clicked his tongue and grinned. “Fine by me.” 

After quickly exchanging numbers they both parted ways, Coriolanus finally walked to class - which he was definitely late for - as he thought over the conversation again. He had never been one to date, but maybe Sejanus could change his mind on that as well?

Coriolanus caught himself smiling at the thought, against his better judgment, as the brown eyed boy wouldn't leave his mind.

[civilight-eterna]

Request: Velvet spends a lot of time (and, more importantly, energy) playing the straight man to Magilou’s antics. She is, of course, not a man: and as it happens, she may not be entirely straight either.

Bonus: Eleanor finds it equal parts amusing and thrilling to see the fearsome Lord of Calamity lose her cool at Magilou's prodding. But when she sees Velvet pull their teammate into an alley in Hellawes and press her up against the wall by her throat, laughter is the last thing on her mind.

"Father, I can understand why you would look at them and consider them unscrupulous miscreants, but I would recommend against being so reactive next time. It was clear enough to see that they only put on such a display because you provoked them, and I'd encourage you to consider the setting when engaging with troublemakers."

Once again, it was up to Eleanor to smooth things out in the aftermath of their little merry band trying to do something as simple as waiting in the church for the shops to open.

Privately, she thought the way that Velvet and Magilou had handled it had been...vindicating. The pastor had clearly singled them out for Velvet's attire, and Magilou had only tried to come to her rescue, in her own roundabout way.

Could it really be called a roundabout way, if Magilou was never straightforward in the first place?

Maybe Eleanor had admired the way they'd stood up for themselves because it felt like she was inadvertently sharing that umbrella of protection. She'd never really worked out how she felt about romance, but she knew enough that she was not interested in men.

Well. Most men. But she definitely had a leaning of sorts.

She parted ways with the group: Laphicet was blessedly so exhausted that he was asleep at the inn with Rokurou and Eizen to watch him and make sure he ate, so the three of them were none the wiser to the scene that had just unfolded.

I should give those two a talking-to, at least. Our cover will be blown if they keep doing things like that.

Velvet had grimaced and beckoned for Magilou to follow her for a 'chat', so Eleanor suspected they'd be just outside.

She hears Velvet's hushed voice and Magilou's not-so-hushed voice from the alley around back, and her ears perk up to listen as she sidles up against the corner to watch. Not to eavesdrop, but-just to wait and see! Maybe Velvet will do the important parts for her.

"Look. He was being a creep, but that doesn't mean you can just act as you please-! The second you started rubbing up on me I thought his eyes were going to roll right out of their sockets, the way he was ogling you." She's clearly agitated, her arms crossed, her finger tapping the inside of her forearm.

"Ohoho! So sweet of you to worry, but I'm used to being ogled! It's a shame if I'm not! A performer performs, and I performed perfectly. And you played along too, lest you forget! Throwing me across the altar and crawling over me like that until he went blue in the face-my heart nearly popped! Unless..." Magilou tips her head and Eleanor can hear her lilt suddenly drop into another tone entirely, "...did it really rile you up, right then in there? Thinking about doing it in front of a holy man, to spite the clergy?"

Eleanor is suddenly very, very still. She knows deep down that she's hiding herself for a different reason than she was when this started, but she can't will herself to move away.

I shouldn't be watching this.

"No, it did not."

"Aww, then were you worried about little ol' me? Thinking I've no defenses against the male gaze? I was never a naive country girl like you, Vel, I'm used to it."

"And you shouldn't be. Why is it so outlandish of me to want men to not act like animals? Especially around you, you look way too young for them anyway. If anything it's worse that you get them so excited."

"My my, that doesn't bode well for you, then does it, Vel?" Magilou's voice drops, suddenly serious, and if Eleanor didn't know better-bordering on authoritative. "Because I've seen you much more excited to see me than that."

It happens so quickly that Eleanor is frightened her flinch will give away her position-Velvet's claw erupts from its bandages and pins Magilou to the wall by her throat, her feet dangling.

"Keep talking if you want to pretend you don't know what I mean."

Magilou...laughs. It's strained and sputtering through the pressure at her throat, but she's clearly more delighted than afraid.

I should do something. This is getting out of hand-

SPLASH.

A burst of water soaks Velvet's face and she drops a giggling Magilou to the ground.

"Brat." Velvet bites out.

"Oh come on. I've seen you wetter. And you've seen me."

I need to leave-I really shouldn't be hearing-

But Eleanor stays rooted to the spot, ears burning, her body burning even in Hellawes' frigid climate.

"But tell you what. Let's kiss and make up? And then I'll behave until we get back to the inn." Magilou spreads her fingers into a 'v' just under her chin, poking her tongue out between them and bending her body forward with a great flourish. "What do you say, sourheart?"

Eleanor's heart thumps heavy in her chest as Velvet bridges the distance, take Magilou's chin in her own, leans in until there's barely any space between them. Velvet's lips part and Magilou's eyes go half-mast with a certain...earnestness that Eleanor wouldn't have believed unless she'd seen it with her own eyes.

But Velvet stops just shy.

"...Nice try. You're never behaved. And I'd be the fool for believing you could keep a promise like that."

Magilou's eyes flicker with a moment's surprise, but she's back on the other foot in the next breath.

"Oho, but perhaps you're the fool after all, for taking me seriously to begin with!"

...

Eleanor walks back to the inn, realizes that she's a little more alike to Magilou than she ever expected she could be, both for what thought lingers behind and for the fact that she'd never, ever be able to admit aloud-

...I was disappointed, too.

[freshjjindahouse]

Metamorphosis thoughts

I just finished reading Metamorphosis by Kafka and boy do I have thoughts on it.

The funny thing is that I actually started reading it a couple years ago, when my cousins' husband told me that a good way to practice my Portuguese skills is to read something in Portuguese and let me borrow his copy of the story. I started reading it... and then quickly gave up. Unfortunately being able to speak a language and read a language were more different than I thought.

Nonetheless, I've been back in a reading kick and figured I'd give it another go, in English, this time, and yeah, I got through it a lot faster.

I found the story's exploration of isolation to be really, really compelling. Especially in the face of illness and/or disability, which, yes, is what I interpreted the metamorphosis of the MC, Samsa, to be or to at least represent.

It was interesting to see the MC go from having genuine hope that his family would learn to accept him post-transformation, trying his best to fight against his insect urges and retain as much humanity as he could, only to, over time, realize that his family was not going to accept him, resenting them for it, and giving into his new identity. I don't know if interesting is the appropriate word, though... if anything it was really heartbreaking.

Like, he really did believe that his family would eventually come to accept him, they were just struggling with the initial shock of it all, only to slowly realize how marred by shame they had become because of who he now was. Even his sister, despite showing more kindness than most, eventually became corrupted by her parents' attitude. The MC, eventually realizing that no one wants to acknowledge his existence, quickly rebels, insisting that his presence be remembered. Refusing to hide for the sake of others' comfort, he even goes as far as leaving his room when there are guests present who don't know about his current state. A bold move for a giant cockroach.

But it did really get me thinking about the ways in which people react to ostracization in real life. In a society that can hold so much shame in regards to those who are different, insisting that they remain unseen, whether it be physically so (by making it hard for them to access public spaces), figuratively so (by suppressing their representation in fiction), or legally so (by straight up ignoring their needs/issues when laws are passed), it isn't surprising that those individuals might look for ways to make themselves seen. Even if it's in a controversial or outlandish way. An aggressive cry of "Hey, idiots! Look at me!", while also containing an underlying plea to be genuinely considered and acknowledged.

Heck, even on a smaller scale, I think about some of the ways in which "troublemaker kids" sometimes behave. My cousin used to have a lot of behavioral issues due to having both autism and ADHD (and maybe some overly permissive parenting but let's not get into that). People would avoid him because of those behaviors, and the isolation he felt drove him to even more outlandish behaviors, because to him, being seen in a negative light was was better than not being seen at all. This attitude, of course, backfired and resulted in him having to switch schools more than once. He's since mellowed out, now having more self-awareness about his feelings. But then again, the only reason he was able to "mellow out" is because there were still some people who made an effort to understand him even after all that time. Samsa never got that, only increasingly aggressive expressions of rejection every time he tried to reach out. Eventually, he succumbed to the loneliness and depression of his situation, the novel ending with his death and unfortunately, but, unsurprisingly, his family's relief.

[delfinaschiffer]

I know no one cares enough but I just felt lile sharing this. SO, a while ago I was with a friend of mine who also plays TW and we were discussing how cursedly similar I am to Azul (in being the chuby girl at school and your local coin collector) and then she looked into Azul's wiki page to find out he has a stepfather.

Now, having reading a lot of fanfic involving cecaelias and mermaids (I love them) I grew into the idea of them being loners (and them being able to mate with normal mermaids) and so and interesting idea begin to flow into our minds. What if, Azul's mother and stepfather are regular mermaids? What if his stepfather also has a cecaelia daugther? and they bounded over the trouble of raising a cecaelia offspring?

Thus, Morgana, my Oc, was born.

Of course, my friend couldn't be left behind, and being a huge Vil simp she created her own Oc, named Lumiere, and thus began to write this whole joke of au. I like how she writes and it inspired me to draw them because I never say no to drawing cute anime girls.

She gave me permission to post the drawings of her own oc and talk about her so I'm doing exactly that.

First of we have my own oc, Morgana, who is unsurprisingly based of Morgana, Ursula's sister from the little mermaid 2

The whole movie was "Meh" at best, but Morgana was a really good villian. I love the cunning villian types, and she did better than Ursula in that regard. She took her time to appeal to Melody as a kindred spirit who understand her more than her own mother which, remembering that Melody was a teenager, won more points in the realistic sense.

But i also played around on paralles with Azul and myself. Siblings tend to be opposits on some ways, and though Mor and Azul are not blood related they would know each other from young age.

If i have to pinpoint my biggest diference with Azul would it be I don't have the same determination he has. Sure at some point I tried to do the same as he has but I gave up early on cause I'm to lazy to be bothered with it. And I tend to be a troublemaker in the sense that, as a teenager, I used to get involved in fights when I was actually pissed off. Something that Azul didn't even try with him being more on the vengeful side. That actually gave me and intresting parrallel to work on and that's the route I went on.

Besides that, much as Azul has some bits and hints of other caracthers not only Ursula, Mor has some tints of Vanessa. Although she was and alter ego Ursula invented, Vanessa was a vane beauty with an alluring singing voice, which Morgana in this au will take on. In this Au Morgana is a socially akward beauty who often plays as a singer in the Mostro Lounge, this will also play part on her Unique Magic, but I'll explain in deatail in another post (I'm working in a full fledge profile/promotional pic just as I've seen everywhere)

Moving on we have my friend's child, Lumiere (Lumi for short).

Now, correct me if I'm wrong but I know there are at least two caracthers in TW that aren't based on anything (Zebek is one example and I can't say for sure but I think Lilia can also fill in here), while others are based on concepts more than carachters (the poison apple, the card soldiers) and Lumi fills in the first category. For those who are curious, Lumiere is the name of the candle holder in the beauty and the best, but you can begin to forget about him because except for the name the share nothing in common.

Lumi is, much like Silver, your tipical princess behaviour but with some twists. With a pretty sad background she tries her best in the academic sense, and to be a good person, but she lacks a lot of confidence and is more akin to a people pleaser. This is actually mean to play a good parallel with Vil who is also her housewarden. I'm also gonna post a whole profile for her so I won't get too much into detail, but desing wise she is ment to look like an inocent princess. She also has the stars simbol which is also a common topic in some disney movies.

Our NRC 4th impostor 3th because i don't count Rook as an impostor, he definetly belongs there is your tipical mom friend, who has a THICK barrier which prevents her from catching most of the double sense or means comments. Although self counsius she is really used to supresses her own feelings, and in a nice parallel to Silver as well she is full of energy. Diferent from most of her own housemates, she really values Vil, as she sees him as someone who has everything she is lacking of, and used to rough love, she gives her 100% to whatever challenge he force on her.

I don't have much insides on her desing because i didn't do much. My friend gave me the pointers and a sketch of her desing and I went extra while drawing her in my style (my friend is more a writer than an artist) but what i can defenitly tell you is about another character that cames in a combo.

Yes, a cat. More specificly, my own irl cat. Funny story, my cat, called Makita (she was found on a metalurgic workshop, thus the name) is quite an stalker. She is full of energy and she tends to stalk all the cats in the neibourhood. Some of them ignore her, some of them tend to lose patience and fight her, but she always stalks. And she stalks me too. If a go anywhere for quite some time, she will follow me everywhere in the house, and if she can not find me for whatever reason she cries loudly.

This whole behavior reminded my friend of Rook, and thus, she became Maki Hunt. And my friend being the "I love cats but I can't have one of my own" type, Lumi is now the oficial owner of Maki Hunt. And she became Hunt in the au because, lest be honest, Rook wouldn't turn a blind eye to an stalker acomplice. Please expect A LOT of jokes.

[kimbap-r0ll]

hi! sorry, it’s my first time requesting something so i hope i’m doing it right, but may i request academic rivals to lovers scenarios or headcanons for riddle and azul please with a gn reader? sorry if this isn’t the most specific, let me know if i should add or change anything and thank you so much! :)

Ooh, this is going to be fun! Yes this is perfect, thank you for the ask!

Azul, Riddle x gn!reader who is an academic rival

Azul

At first, he will see you as a complete rival. Nothing else.

You're constantly neck-to-neck with him in all of the classes you guys have together (which is more classes than you wanted) and the teachers know that you guys are rivals, so they continue to pair the two of you together. Of course the other students would see this as "a power couple" or something, but the two of you would rather work alone than together

He also hates that you can see right through him. Whenever he decides to try getting you into a contract, or the tweels attempt it, you shoot them down with a harsh "no, I don't do deals with sea mafia" before walking away.

You always held your head high, and people adored you. It made him upset that you were so perfect. But that anger towards you was also fueled by something else; that he was also in love with you.

You seemed impossible to reach, almost too good for anyone in the school. How could a disgusting octopus like him ever get a chance to be with you? It's impossible!

At least, that was what he thought until he saw you at Mostro Lounge one day, crying

He walked over, peering next to you to see what you were crying about, but it was just your phone. He smiled to himself, maybe you could finally make a contract with him, and he'll show you who's better!

Instead, he found himself sitting down next to you and asking if you were alright. You told him what had happened, someone that you considered a best friend had berated you to a friend group and you had to be humiliated for thirty straight minutes in a chat. Then, you had lost those friends, and now they were threatening to ruin your reputation. "I thought they were my friends, since I've been alone for so long," you cried, not once lifting your head.

He wasn't sure how to feel, he had never known you could break down. Not only that, but how could people choose to pick on you when you were the strongest person he knew? Finally, what hit him the hardest was the fact that the two of you were actually really similar.

"Y/n, if you need anything, I'm here for you. None of what those planktons said is true, I mean, you're the smartest and bravest person I know," he replied, but then he stopped himself from going on. What was he saying? Was he confessing to you?

You smiled at him, maybe he wasn't all that bad. This would be how the two of you became friends, then eventually you asked him out. Of course, he was a blushing mess, but he agreed.

The two of you would continue to be academic rivals, but no longer were you two scowling or glaring at each other during partner projects, instead Azul gave you a warm smile and you did too.

Riddle

He doesn't glare or try to plot for your failures like Azul does, but he does find it a bit annoying to always fight for the first rank on exams with you.

If anything, he's probably glad that you're doing so well in the academics, and he has a lot of praises to give to you. But something always stops him. This invisible wall is none other than your hatred for his strict personality.

You stopped him on multiple occasions from offing a person's head, even if you weren't in his house. You would tell him that it's actually your fault that the student couldn't make it to the hedgehog singing event, or that for once maybe Riddle should ease his iron grip on Heartslabyul.

To make matters worse, you were best friends with the biggest troublemakers of Riddle's dorm: Ace and Deuce. He couldn't understand how you didn't seem to care they were just copying your homework all the time and distracting you from your academics! He's even seen you help them sneak out of class!

Overall, he's just upset that you two are on opposite sides when it comes to following the rules. He just can't stand that a person like you is the one he's academic rivals with, and it just makes his head hurt.

But that wasn't the only reason. He also thought you were beautiful, that your kindness was something to be admired. You treated everyone so nicely, not to mention you stood up for others. There was a time when a few students from Pomefiore were bullying Heartsabyul students and he had heard you stood up for them. If anything, you had everything that a dorm leader should be in his eyes: high academic achievements, charisma, and kindness.

Riddle's too shy though, so he'll never admit this.

That is until you show up to him with a box. It looks like there's a tart in it.

"Hi Riddle, I heard that you really liked strawberry tarts, so I tried baking one with Trey," you tell him, plopping the box in his hands. "I hope you like it, it's kind of like an apology gift for stepping over your dorm's rules all the time, I just think that you're too strict on it still though!"

He wasn't sure what to think, should he be angry? Happy? Before he could decide, he was already a blushing mess. "W-well, thank you very much, y/n." He sees you smile and turn to go back to your dorm, but he shouts "wait!" before really processing what he was doing.

"Would you like to join me next time in the library? I know we need to study for the exam we have in Trein's class next week," he trailed off, and you nodded.

"Only if you promise to relax a bit too in the week," you say. That's when he realizes that you were probably worried about how much stress he had.

The two of you become friends soon, as he starts to learn from you on easing on the rules and on himself. He'll have to practice in front of a mirror to confess his feelings to you a few times, but you beat him to it and he is once again a red mess when he agrees to date you.

[awakeshedreams]

sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

1 2

Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

.

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

.

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

[qwanderer]

Loki in the Hall of Mirrors

This story is complicated. Not, like, as a plot, not particularly, but philosophically and thematically. It's got that great play of hero against villain that I love about the Loki story in general and that makes it all so divisive and messy. And I love it even more than I did on first watch.

The first time I watched the desert landing scene, I was like, "Wait? What happened to Allspeak?" because the people who live there don't seem to understand him. But on the second watch, I realized it could be a lack of context, rather than a break in translation. These people probably have an even chance of knowing nothing about Norse myth. Like, what if an alien came up to you and said "I am Boogle of Bofgar, I carry a burden"? You would still have questions like "What the hell is a boogle and why are you carrying your shit here?" So the basic dynamic of Allspeak is probably still functioning, and Loki probably understood their questions, but he was still trying to figure out how to answer when he got distracted by the TVA people.

It could even be an innate psychic ability rather than a magical one, as he seems to understand everyone in the TVA, including the man who can't be fluent in all languages like the field agents because he has never heard of a fish and the seemingly nonverbal robot. (Which of course makes me want Loki talking with Dum-E and the other shop bots! But I digress.)

Okay. I want to start talking about the next-level manipulation shit the TVA are pulling on Loki here. Time, as they say, moves differently in the TVA, and one might even assume that they can avoid having to deal with more variants at once than they can handle. And yet we see them dealing with exactly two other troublemakers during Loki's onboarding.

The first, I'm going to call little echo man.

Little echo man is incredibly annoying to Loki, because he does and says everything Loki might find himself inclined to do and say if he wanted to be difficult. Little echo man does these things in little annoying undignified ways, making them look silly and petulant. Little echo man protests and questions and pushes back, in his business suit and his long dark hair and pale skin, and clearly thinks everyone should treat him as important even though every indication is that he is an annoyance and an afterthought.

Perhaps he's a plant, and perhaps he's just a variant of an annoying but predictable regular they see who they lined up at the same time on purpose. But he is on purpose. Everything he does screams directly at Loki, "Don't do this."

We'll get to the second convenient intersection later.

The most obvious layer of manipulation is simply the beraucracy. They put him up against a series of obstacles which he needs to deal with to get anywhere else, and nothing he does can get him past those obstacles except compliance. All of these obstacles have personality, but they are not personable. They treat Loki like a bag of trash they have been tasked with taking to the curb. Annoying, distasteful, but ultimately routine. His silver tongue isn't going to get him anywhere because these people simply don't care.

I think a lot of these he just goes along with to see where it gets him, since at this point he still believes he has his magic in reserve. But the fact that he steps through the robot fryer even though he thinks he might be a robot without knowing (as others have pointed out, he spent thousands of years as a frost giant without knowing it, and he's recently spent time in the control of the being who shaped Nebula) is a testament to how deep they've already got their hooks in him.

They treat the robot fryer like it's routine, but come the next obstacle, they kill little echo man like it's routine, too. Because he didn't comply.

Loki is slowly being ironed flat to thread into their compliance mill.

And then - I love this, because it reminds me of one of my favorites among the multiplicity of Lokis, GoS!Loki - they put this line in as punctuation between the impersonal, compliance, don't phase of their manipulation and everything that comes after it.

When he's set before the judge, someone actually paying some attention to him, this is his chance to use his silver tongue on someone who will listen. But, although the judge listens, she treats him the same as all the other obstacles have - like listening is a distasteful chore she would like to be done with.

So it seems like the perfect moment for a dramatic escape. Except his magic is gone.

"It's not your story," the judge says. "It never was."

That hammers in all the worst things Loki has ever believed about himself - that he stands in the shadows of others, that he will never have the central place he was raised to desire, that he is, and always will be, a villain to be vanquished rather than a person with choices and agency.

Enter Mobius.

Mobius is a big echo.

He draws all the attention in a room. He is everything that Loki wishes to be - he is powerful, informed, prepared, in control. Capable of charming the judge. And most importantly, he is actively interested in Loki.

At this point in Loki's journey - both in the show and in his life - that has to be irresistible.

So Mobius is in a perfect position to wrap Loki right around his pinky finger.

He listens to Loki without shutting him down, the way all the obstacles have. When Loki tells Mobius he's going to burn down the TVA, Mobius suggests a couple of places he might want to start. One concrete, small, mischievous. One an indication that he's open to Loki doing larger, more significant things here in the future.

He shows Loki his own past and future - but carefully edited, to paint a particular picture.

So many echoes, so many reflections - Loki is in a house of mirrors. Lost, disoriented. Distorted one way, then the other. Magnified and examined.

Loki snarks, and Mobius comments, "Makes you sound smart." Affirms Loki for that little mischievous bit of personality.

Mobius shows Loki some of the most terrible things he's done, and questions them. Pushes Loki away from them. Then changes direction before he can get too heavy-handed, to basically fangirl over the DB Cooper adventure. That's mischief. That's good. I like that.

Punishes him for a small infraction, just to remind him who is in control and that even looking threatening could be seen as a problem.

I think it was at about this point that I got hard reminded of the dynamics of the show White Collar. It's a buddy cop show on a basic level and sometimes the relationship can be very sweet, but sometimes Peter spends one too many times reminding Neal that he can send him back to prison any time he wants and the power dynamic shows its messed up edges.

Mobius is part of the machine, and the machine is doing terrible things to Loki, but I have at least a sliver of hope that the relationship could gain more balance - more genuine balance, not based on the faux freedom that Loki has gained by the end of the episode. There's something to be said for making changes to a system from within that system, but for that to be meaningful change, Mobius would have to change as a person.

Anyway, this current nastily powerful Mobius pushes Loki as hard as he can, and then is conveniently interrupted by the actions of another variant, leaving Loki alone with his remote.

It could easily have been on purpose. The only thing Loki learns by escaping that room is that the TVA is more powerful than any force in the universe, in his experience.

Let's talk about the other Loki variant for a minute. It took me until the second viewing to realize the symbolism of leaving a small child the only survivor in a place of worship, then giving her something to turn her blue.

Odin said he found Loki in a temple, in the aftermath of a battle.

It's actually frighteningly easy to imagine how a distraught Loki could get to a place where he feels the need to genuinely burn down the TVA, and kill every agent in it. Because the TVA put certain clips in his little future show, focusing on the death of his mother, the way his own actions affected it, and the futility and brutality of his own death at the hands of Thanos.

They don't show him the destruction of Asgard, his own role in helping save the evacuees, and the way Thanos decimated the population of that transport before it could even reach Earth. They don't show him the devastation of his home or his capacity to do good.

A Loki who knows that the power of the TVA exists and that he has the capacity to be Asgard's heroic savior would do anything to get that power and save his people.

But we haven't met that Loki yet. I'm sure we will, and it's going to be exhilarating.

This Loki is being taught the importance of control over little things, and so when he gets his collar off and onto that guard, he toys with her, just to see that he can. They have been toying with him and it's oh so satisfying to turn the tables. But it's still compliance in its own way, the petty little mischief that Mobius has been steering him towards.

Loki has been given just enough freedom, just enough choices, that it seems like his own choice to watch the rest of the slide show and come to the obvious conclusion - there's no "out" to go to. His life has gone on without him, and ended. And there's really no point in his trying to fix it. No putting things back the way they were.

So he admits to Mobius - the person who has listened hardest, probably, besides his mother - he admits that he is small and scared and lashing out. That he doesn't know what to do.

Of course, this is when Mobius introduces the task the TVA has for Loki - to take down his other self.

Oh, I can't wait for the next episode! I want to know where this is going.

(I've popped in some panels from Loki: Agent of Asgard because it's my favorite and the show is giving me feelings about it.)

[mrslackles]

"TLDR: If you don’t know the emotional burden the POC behind the scenes are carrying then don’t use them as a defence just because you like the end product." holy shit. fuck yes. i apologize in advance if this gets long & rambling. it is super offensive to use the race/presumed race as a shield. i've seen stand use it with the writers' room, the actors, & themselves. so, one at a time. (1)

(2) The writers: like you said, maybe some just don’t have the emotional energy or desire to be the “race monitor” for every conversation (AND THEY SHOULDN’T HAVE TO BE!). Getting staffed in a room is hard enough and I can easily see the desire – because I’ve had it too in work & personal settings - to not get labeled as the troublemaker who is always bringing race into it. I mean, shit, we see it happening in the fandom and none of us are getting paid for this (although some seem like it).

Exactly! It’s so hard to even get in the door. Being the ‘race monitor’ is so utterly exhausting and it shouldn’t be an expected duty from POC. 

(3) I will say that I bet the Good Girls writing room is probably 85% better than most other rooms, which is faint praise if you’ve read any thing about the industry. I just can’t believe JB left Shondaland without learning anything. Quick tangent: I’m not a fan of Shonda Rhimes’ creative output. Watched a few episodes here & there; maybe even the entire first of GA. They are too DRAMATIC! for my tastes. But I’m a HUGE fan of SR and what she’s accomplished.

Same! I’ve only properly watched two of her shows: How to Get Away with Murder, when it was still good, and The Catch (which I’m still mad got cancelled!). But I’m astonished by what she’s accomplished, it’s super impressive. I’m also not sure how Jenna seemingly came away with very few lessons about intersectionality, though. (I think Laurel on HTGAWM probably got more about her culture included in the first episode than Rio has in nearly three seasons.)

(4) (although an interesting though experiment is would all that have happened if she hadn’t hooked up with Betsy Beers?) And one thing I remember reading from SR that stuck with me b/c it is a fact of life but not often articulated is that when she would read scripts the only times a character’s race was indicated was when the character wasn’t white. so, white is the default. the presumed. the normal. I love that she said that because that’s the kind of subtle racism that is so insidious.

I didn’t know about Betsy Beers! That is actually really interesting. 

And, yes. White is the default. That’s what I really loved about @septiembur‘s response as well – so little thought goes into making the Latinx characters real people, which really shows in the naming and the way they haven’t let Rio step into his identity. 

I also think she made a really good point that the friendship between the girls is something else to be investigated. I’ve always felt, but especially in 2x08 it was hard to ignore, that there isn’t much acknowledgement of how the world treats Ruby differently than her two best friends, and I can’t help wondering if that’s as a result of that default treatment – these characters get cast as POC, but not written as such. Because every POC knows that having white friends is a Whole Thing.  

(5) that’s the kind of racism that says “i can’t be racist, i have black friends.” ok. point 2 - the actors. as at @septiembur mentioned, Retta & Reno have both spoken about pushing back on things. they also mentioned that the “La Di Da Di” sequence came about because they were just doing it for fun around set and someone took a video and sent to JB and they wrote it in. Manny has been super vocal about the struggles of MOC in the industry and his own in particular.

I know. Every time people say “Manny must be fine with…” or “Manny hasn’t said anything against…” I’m so confused because he’s said so much more than I would ever expect someone in his position to say. Not directly about the show, but like you say, he’s been vocal about his struggles in the industry, and it’s very easy to see how that plays out on this show as well. Nobody can speak for him or know how he feels, but he’s been clear on certain issues and those issues crop up here too.

(6) he’s constantly saying he never knows how tough or charming to play the character and that means he’s not getting any guidance from what’s written. also in the Angie Martinez interview, he mentions director & writers telling him to play tougher (while making a growl noise), which is basically like in community when they try to tell Shirley to be sassier. it’s hella coded language and poc deal with it all the time. 

Oh, for SURE. I’m not Latinx, black or even American and I immediately knew what he meant.

(7) point 3 - the fans. woo boy, this is the stickiest one. I’ve seen stans say “I’m latinx and it didn’t bother me.” great. not all poc have the same reactions. also, we live in a white heteronormative patriarchy and that affects us all. it’s why so much of social justice is UNlearning. also, may I present stacey dash & ben carson. and the over 50% of white women who voted to uphold the grossest form of white heteronormative patriarchy in 2016, especially important as that was the catalyst for the show’s creation.  

(8) and maybe i’m being uncharitable, but some of those stans are the same ones that have zero problem calling other female fans misogynists. so, at best, they understand that having an identity of an oppressed class does not automatically make you immune to participating in that oppression. at worst, they throw that term around and then use their racial identity as armor. Damn, ok, hope some of that made sense. 

I also find certain stans to be the sticking point, tbh. It’s one thing to have a problematic show. It’s a different one altogether to have a fanbase that not only defends that show with its lives, but also attacks anyone who dares speak up against it.   

“some of those stans are the same ones that have zero problem calling other female fans misogynists. so, at best, they understand that having an identity of an oppressed class does not automatically make you immune to participating in that oppression. at worst, they throw that term around and then use their racial identity as armor.” 🔥🔥🔥

Dang, Anon, you did not come to PLAY!