#i am only finishing it bc i like to suffer and want something to watch on sunday evenings

[dummerjan]

it feels as if i am watching an entirely different show than most when it comes to love sea

[strawberrybyers]

it’s obvious i haven’t taken my adhd meds in a few days because my brain is screaming every interest i have ever had and telling me to look for a tag for it to follow and then that leads me down a rabbit hole of other tags then i’m reminded of other interests and i’m having to keep up with all these things being said at me to follow. then there’s the adult voice telling me i need to stop worrying about tumblr tags and look for a job and how maybe my father was right that i am a disappointment and i’ve ruined my life. and i’m also listening to taylor swift’s new playlists so i’m thinking about grief and relationships and how maybe i’m not lovable and the idea that anyone could ever fall in love with me seems impossible. also i want to do my affirmations and meditations and visualizations but my brain has too many thoughts and i want to learn witchcraft and i want to go to this witchcraft store i found and the solar eclipse is happening on monday and do i need to do something special for that to get my desires??? also what am i going to eat for dinner? i don’t feel like cooking but ordering out is expensive but ordering out is easy and i just need to eat. and i’m spending money but not doing anything to earn money and i had a therapy session today where i realized that yes i do feel younger but also i feel small/inferior because the world feels too intimidating and judge mental so maybe i’ve been conflating “inferiority” with “immaturity”. and i also have part 2 to my autism testing tomorrow and it’s like if i am diagnosed with autism, then that gives me answers but i’m also still dealing with the disappointment, grief, sadness, anger, frustration, stagnation, trauma and anxiety regardless of my diagnosis. and how will i ever live a life that can support me and my needs and wants when capitalism and politics and mental illness is such a blockade to living a peaceful life and everything is scary and i wish i was a fairy living in a little mushroom house and i have over 500 books on my want to read list on goodreads, i have over 2000 movies in my watchlist on latterboxd, over 1700 videos on my youtube watchlist, over 1000 videos in my subscription youtube video playlist i want to watch, i have easily over 100 tv shows i want to watch written down, and i have no idea why i exist but there’s so much i want to do and it feels overwhelming and now it’s past 6pm and the whole day is gone but what did i accomplish today except another day of yearning for relief?? i guess i’ll just go through the rory culkin tag and listen to taylor swift and hope for a tomorrow that feels more organized even though my brain only knows how to be on a loop of dread and exhaustion

[xoxochb]

semaine de la mode

idk if you'd do this, but can i request jason grace x praetor!daughter of bacchus to lacy?

reader and jason have been friends for as long as they could remember (aka since they were five years old) and she's got this biggest crush on him, but no one knows about it, even jason.

skip to when he vanishes, she looks for him day and night, like she vowed not to stop looking for him.

and then, he comes back with piper as his gf

basically “you've got the one thing that i want,” is reader kinda telling piper? idk if that makes sense.

long story short, reader decides to join the hunters of diana/artemis bcs she can't handle the heartbreak anymore. but, piper had already broken up with jason bcs she knows bro is in love with reader, he just forgot about it (aphrodite kid skillz)

pls make it a happy ending 😭

⋆·˚ ༘ * lacy

warnings: angst with resolved ending pairing: jason grace x praetor! daughter of bacchus a/n: this really isn’t my best work I’m sorry 😭

you would have to disagree when people said childhood crushes never last because in your case you feel it may never end. your undying love for the son of jupiter started when you were five the moment your eyes settled on him, his blond hair and electric blue eyes captivating. for as far back as your crush you had been best friends, always. did you not give enough signs? or was jason grace an oblivious idiot?

oh how you wish he would know. nobody knew. you were left to suffer silently with your feelings. praetor duties had to come first, if you were to confess your feelings and be rejected it would make your life at camp more difficult than it already was, you’d have to suppress your love for the rest of your life. both you and jason being praetors would have made things worse, you would see him all the time! you couldn’t live with the awkwardness of that

one day you awoke to find that your very crush had gone missing, no trace of anything left behind. the first day was a shock. missing? you knew jason, which is why you knew exactly that he would leave like this. the second day you began an investigation, collecting information from his peers. where did you see him last? what was his demeanor? did he have a reason? was he forced?

you were left with many unanswered questions meaning you had to work yourself. day and night you searched every inch of camp jupiter, twice a day until you suspected he wasn’t at camp anymore. you then took it upon yourself to check the nearby premises of camp, checking lakes, forests, streets, anything you could find. even if your friends at camp insisted you take a break, sleep, eat, anything deemed healthy you refuses to give up looking, you couldn’t do anything until you knew jason was safe

“y/n I am begging you please sleep you’re going to kill your self” reyna sprawls along your bed, asking you for the millionth time to take a break

you learn back against the headboard of your bed. “I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to”

“eat something at least”

“I’m not hungry”

reyna sits up to face you. “you’ve got to be, you haven’t eaten in weeks”

you shrug and reyna sighs, standing up. “I’m going to get you something to eat and I’m going to stay here until you finish it”

you watch as the praetor leaves, only hoping she won’t keep her words

ੈ✩‧₊˚

a week later you receive the greatest of news that jason had returned to camp and almost ecstatic you rush to the crowd, only to find him looped arms with another girl- a beautiful girl you would have to assume she was one of venus’ children. your heart breaks into tiny pieces when you realize you spent all your time searching for a boy who found love in another girl

does she know she has the one thing you’ve always wanted? probably not

you leave to your cabin, yet again being left with your relentless thoughts. did he forget about you? about how you were best friends? did he purposely get a girlfriend? of course he liked her she was probably more put together than you ever were- silly daughter of bacchus nobody would want to date you. rambunctious, filled with energy, jason had every right not to chose you

later that night you received a knock on your door. and of course it was just as you were falling to sleep for the first time in forever. sleepily you answer it, facing the very boy occupying your thoughts. should you hug him or should you slam the door in his face?

“hey” you mutter, almost awkwardly.

“can I come in?”

no.

“yeah, sure”

you lead jason to your bed, both taking seats. the silence you once thought comforting you wish wasn’t there

you play with the edges of your blanket. “why did you leave?”

“it wasn’t by choice. I got all my memories wiped”

“then what?”

jason sighs. “I woke up on a bus. piper was there. so was leo. I didn’t understand anything, I’ve never met them in my life but they claimed to know me so I assumed I did. over time my memory started coming back slowly, I started remembering you, my best friend. I couldn’t wait to come back to see you”

you discard you blanket and bring your legs up to your chest, resting your head on your knees. “she’s your girlfriend? a daughter of venus perhaps?”

“aphrodite”

“she’s pretty. I’m happy for you”

jason stays silent for a moment, you assume trying to think of the right words because what the hell are you supposed to say to someone after being gone for weeks?

“I missed you y’know?”

you feel tears threaten to escape your eyes, thankful for the darkness of the cabin.

“I missed you too” you whisper

“do you want me to stay over tonight? like old times?”

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you laying with another girl”

jason nods, respecting your wishes. “will I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be busy”

oh how you hated lying to him. disappointment fills his senses, you can almost feel it radiating off him. jason takes this as a hint and leaves, allowing you be alone

the sleep you were about to get was replaced by tear filled eyes, staining your pillow

ੈ✩‧₊˚

was love worth the tears? was a boy worth the tears? it couldn’t have been. a big decision awaits you as the hunting goddess stands before you

“are you sure this is what you want?” asks diana

you nod. “I think, yes”

diana sighs. “as much as I hate love I don’t think you should join just because of one boy. Immortality is a serious decision, not something you’d do over a silly situation. I will come back in a few days and ask you the same question, I want you to think about this thoroughly”

you obey her words. was this too soon? you visit the lake, skipping rocks on the water. one, two, three, four, five, six… it falls down into the water

“I didn’t know you were a professional rock skipper” a voice says behind you, a voice you know all too well

you turn around to face jason grace. “what are you doing here?”

jason walks towards you, picking up a rock and skipping it, not making it nearly as far as yours

“I wanted to talk to you”

“about what?”

“you- uhm, me. us?” he sighs before continuing, “last night, our talk… it made me realize something. well actually piper made me realize it. I always thought of us as best friends, our friendship was always something special to me but I thought it was just because we were friends. but when you said I couldn’t stay over at your cabin it made me think maybe we were always closer than I thought. after I left I was talking to piper about you, and you know her being a daughter of aphrodite she seems to know about this love stuff. she told me she felt that I liked you and I told her about how close we were and about how we’ve always been friends. she made me realize that we’ve never been just friends”

“what are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say that I like you and I’ve been too stupid to realize it”

“you’re not stupid, jason”

“I am. I’m really stupid and I feel awful that I never acknowledged your feelings and let you think I just thought of us as friends all this time”

“are you sure? you’re not just saying this to make me feel better?”

“of course not, y/n/n. if you still like me and you don’t think I’m a complete idiot I would love to be your boyfriend”

you might’ve shed a tear or two. pure relief floods through you. happy tears flow from your eyes and jason pulls you into his chest, allowing you to let your tears out. he runs his hand up and down your back in a comforting notion until you calmed down

you lift your head up to look at him for the first time since he’s got back, making you realize how much you truly missed him

“I still think you’re an idiot” you mumble

“I’m fine with that, I deserve it”

you laugh. “jason?”

“yeah?”

“I’d love for you to be my boyfriend too”

jason smiles. the same one he’s always reserved for just you. “would it be okay if I kissed you?”

with the close proximity you were in any other boy would’ve went for it regardless of what you wanted. but you knew jason grace. he was the same boy that always made sure your comfort and needs came before his

“of course”

without another thought he leans in to capture your lips. for the first time, and hopefully never the last

[ugh-yoongi]

she, by proxy | myg, kth

(or, the one where yoongi gets what yoongi wants, even when what he wants is taehyung. especially when it's taehyung.)

✤ pairing: yoongi x reader; taehyung x reader; yoongi x taehyung ✤ genre: est. relationship (yoongi x reader), pwp ✤ rating: explicit; minors dni ✤ warnings: a lot of swearing, drinking but no one's drunk, a friend group in which everyone is queer and has fucked at least once probably, taehyung is a messy hoe but yoongi's an entire disaster, pining, open relationships, polyamory that is discussed briefly, i have been told there are some feelings involved. the most important: there is gay stuff in here!!! i repeat, some of this is VERY GAY! please do not read if that isn't your thing! ✤ smut warnings: girls making out, a threesome, dudes kissing, oral sex (m. receiving), anal fingering, vaginal fingering, taegi get pegged, dirty talk, dudes touching themselves a lot, come as lube (but there's also real lube dw), come eating, voyeurism, a lil slapping (thighs/clit), the dom/sub dynamics shift throughout the fic but mainly dom!reader, very mild degradation, a lil begging, taehyung cries, fingers always seem to wind up in mouths, hair pulling, frottage, yoongi accidentally gets edged, praise, protected sex, dp (fingers & piv at the same time). i think that's it :') but let me know if i forgot anything. ✤ word count: 8.3k ✤ credits: thank you to @effortandmore / @the-boy-meets-evil / & @here2bbtstrash for beta'ing this for me. my personal porny fairy godparents. i appreciate you all a whole lot. ✤ author's note: can you believe my degenerate brain dreamed this up and then i wrote all of it in two days in a delirious haze, opened the doc this morning to make final edits, and added almost 2k more. idk who i am anymore. if i missed anything it's bc i finished & edited this during jk's live and i was distracted, to say the least. anyway this is embarrassing i feel like a prude so i'm gonna go hide. pls come scream in my inbox with me unless it's to yell tired shit at me abt writing mxm/pegging/whatever else i warned you this is gay.

You hadn’t been surprised the first time, and you’re not surprised now, countless times later.

A girl slides into Taehyung’s lap—long hair, bubblegum pink, almost certainly a wig—and his hands immediately go to the small of her back. Large, nearly swallow her up, and they move to rest possessively at her hips, his grip tight as he pulls her closer. Her top is cropped latex and leaves very little to the imagination, which isn’t an issue for you or Yoongi because she’s not what Yoongi’s looking at. His eyes are locked on Taehyung’s hands; locked on the way the tendons flex as he manhandles the faceless girl in his lap, hikes her over one thick thigh.

Ten more seconds of this and all of you will be looking for a new club.

The air is hazy and thick, the floor sticky with god knows what, and Yoongi reaches for you beneath the table. His own large hand finds your smaller one, those knobby knuckles almost uncomfortable when he twines your fingers together. He’s still staring at Taehyung, and you want to do something, say something, it’ll be someone else soon, stop watching, you’re only gonna hurt yourself, but you know him, and you know when he gets like this it’s best to just let him ride it out. Suffer a little.

(Right now, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be tortured as last time, at least—when all of you had gone someplace else, some seedy spot in an Itaewon basement, and Taehyung had some girl pressed against the wall outside the bathrooms, fingers buried deep in her cunt as she shook and came. And Hobi, smarter and sharper than any of you but still so fucking stupid, had just—

“Fuck, man, they’re gonna need a mop and bucket for that. I mean, shit, it was so much? The sound when it hit the floor—”

Jeongguk had pulled a face. Half doe-eyes, half mortified terror. “When what hit the floor, hyung?”

“Her fucking squirt, Jeonggukie, what the fuck do you think—”

And Namjoon, just as wide-eyed and terrified as Jeongguk but for an entirely different reason, had laughed awkwardly and said, “Haaa, maybe we should talk about something else?” as he looked between Hoseok and Yoongi.

That night had been shit-tier, nearly unsalvageable, so at least it doesn’t seem like Taehyung’s in that kind of mood. At least the girl in his lap still has her clothes on. At least his hands are someplace you can see them. At least Yoongi’s still beside you.)

So you bide your time. Take stock of who’s still here and where they are, because the girl in Taehyung’s lap has her lips on his neck and things might go south faster than you’d originally anticipated. Hoseok and Jimin are on the dance floor, hips doing something sinful and too much; Namjoon’s at the bar, jaw clenched as the bartender passes him over for the fourth time in a row; Soyeon and Hyungseo are in the other side of your booth, tongues sloppy as they kiss just because they feel like it; Jeongguk, shoved in the corner on Yoongi’s other side, is slack-jawed as he stares at them, and Jeongguk is a fucking pervert so you know he’s hard.

“Put your dick back in your pants, Jeonggukie,” you say, loud enough for him to hear you over the music. The bass is heavy as it drops, feels like it’s thrumming through your veins, and Jeongguk startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table in his panic, and Soyeon and Hyungseo don’t bother breaking apart to look. “You want another drink?” you ask Yoongi, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

He shakes his head, finally drags his attention away from Taehyung. There’s someone new in his lap: chin-length silver hair, thin legs that go on for miles, tan skin covered in boldly-colored tattoos, could be anyone. Yoongi isn’t looking anymore, but you are, so you catch it when Taehyung looks up. Looks right at Yoongi, wants to see if he’s watching, but instead he just finds you. “Gonna go smoke,” Yoongi answers, and you slide out of the booth to let him leave.

“Is hyung okay?” Jeongguk asks when the two of you are pressed back together. He sips leisurely at his drink, trying to make it last until Namjoon makes it back from the bar with another one. Something baby blue and shockingly green, a little umbrella on top. Two cherries. “He seems sad. Hey, watch this.” Jeongguk pops one into his mouth and presents the knotted stem to you seconds later.

This is the part you never know how to explain: that Yoongi loves you but sometimes he wants someone else. Not instead, but too. That you love Yoongi and want him to have whatever he wants, and that jealousy is foreign to you. That you and Yoongi love each other but do things a little unorthodox, which is not out of the ordinary for a friend group as ran-through and commingled as yours, but still takes patience and care to explain.

So you just ruffle Jeongguk’s hair, laugh at his squawking protests, and wrangle him so you can press a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t worry this pretty little head about your hyungs, okay?”

Jeongguk surfaces with a glare, surface-level because you’ve embarrassed him in front of two hot girls that are still making out, and hides his flushed cheeks behind his drink. “Is it about Taehyungie-hyung?”

“What’d I just tell you?”

He pouts, but you’re saved from another interrogation by Namjoon’s unceremonious return to the table. He’s so flustered by his one-sided feud with the bartender that he slams the blue-green drink down a little too hard, spills half of it in Jeongguk’s lap. “Move over,” he says to you, and you cock an eyebrow in return. “Please,” he amends, like that’s what you’d been looking for, but when you still don’t move he gets a little whiny and panicked. “They’re relentless,” he says, pointing his thumb at Soyeon and Hyungseo like you can’t see them. “Don’t make me—”

“What about me!” Jeongguk wails, pressing his hands pathetically to his groin like he’s trying to stem bleeding, at the same time you roll your eyes and fire a, “Says Mr. Eight-gigabyte Porn Folder,” at Namjoon.

You receive another glare, this time from Namjoon, and he doesn’t hesitate to steal Jeongguk’s spot against the wall when he goes to the bathroom to deal with his soaked pants, only to start swearing when he realizes the seat is wet, too. “Jesus fuck—”

“That’s what you get.”

“Fuck off,” Namjoon fires back. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

“Outside smoking.”

“Smok—why is he smoking?” At your silence, he jerks his head up, intent on getting an answer out of you. Instead, his question dies on his tongue as he follows your line of sight. Another new person in Taehyung’s lap, sucking Taehyung’s fingers into their mouth. “Ah, yeah. That fucking guy.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Be nice, Namjoonie. You know Taehyung would hook up with a microwave if it gave him attention.”

“What number is that, then? Hasn’t he gotten enough attention?”

“Third I’ve seen. The first one was cute. I thought for sure he was gonna leave with her.”

Namjoon huffs, shakes his head. Takes a long pull of his beer. “He’s not gonna leave with anyone. He just does this to piss off hyung.” Then, like he’s coming to a realization, he turns to look at you with a quizzical look. “Wait, where’d Seokjin-hyung go?”

You stare back in disbelief. “How long were you at the fucking bar? He left hours ago.”

“Did he?” Then, quieter and to himself, “How long was I at the fucking bar?”

Whatever game Taehyung is playing, Yoongi is woefully inept at playing along.

Doesn’t know when it’s his move or when it’s time to sit and watch. Doesn’t know the rules. Doesn’t really listen when you try to explain it to him; probably doesn't want to hear it. Yoongi seems to think he’s at his best when he’s a little sad, a little miserable and yearning. At its core, that’s what the game is, and as much as he keeps touching the thorns to see if he’ll bleed, you know he still enjoys it.

(Know he gets off on it, too.)

Yoongi reaches for you. Steadies himself with his hand on your shoulder, pupils wide as saucers—dark dark dark in the corner of this grimy club—eventually breaking into a smile when you grab his sweat-slick hands and guide them to your waist. Your bodies move together like waves, pushing apart only for Yoongi to continuously pull you in closer, dazed from the feeling of you pressed against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, words impossible to hear over the music, “look at you. So fucking pretty.”

He threads a knee between your legs, the sound of his groan drowned out as you roll your hips against him. Maybe Yoongi doesn’t know the rules to this game, but you do, and you make sure Taehyung’s watching when you drag your core against Yoongi’s thigh. He groans again, and his hands grip your hips tighter, moving you back and forth on him the way he does when you ride him.

You watch as he drags his eyes upward, see the exact moment he spots Taehyung across the club. His profile is lit up by the strobe lights, filling in the contours of his bone structure with greens and blues. He’s with Jimin and Hoseok now, dancing with the girl from earlier with the pink hair, her back pressed to his chest. He leans down and whispers recycled filth into her ear that she seems to buy. You watch as Yoongi closes his eyes tight; watch him pretend it’s Taehyung dancing with him; it’s Taehyung’s hips he’s gripping onto; it’s Taehyung who’s moaning and desperate for him in this moment.

You watch as his eyes snap open again.

You watch as he realizes he’s in this daydream alone.

And you wonder, briefly, if this should bother you. If this is fucked up, that Yoongi’s hard against you because he’s thinking about someone else, and you find that you don’t care. What you and Yoongi have doesn’t need to make sense to anyone except the two of you.

“Wanna go home,” Yoongi slurs into your ear, fucked up from the feel of you, the thought of Taehyung.

You smirk, tangle your hands in his hair and tug a little just to fuck him up even more. “Yeah? What d’you wanna go home for? It’s still pretty early.”

“Wanna fuck you,” he whines. Tries to hold you in place to grind harder against you and whines again when you move just out of reach. “Baby.”

“You know the rule.” There’s a drop of sweat that rolls down the side of Yoongi’s neck that you chase with your tongue. “Tell me what you actually want and we can leave.”

The breath he sucks in is harsh, fractured, like your question is a special kind of torture. You know it is. Unlike with Taehyung, this is a game both you and Yoongi know the rules to. Unlike with Taehyung, this is the game Yoongi plays to win. The song changes again, this time to something filthy and slow, and Yoongi fits himself to your back, moves until both of you are facing Taehyung. “Want you both,” he says into your ear. Nips at the lobe. “Want to watch you fuck him the way you fuck me.”

“Don’t wanna fuck him yourself?”

You feel him shake his head. “Not this time.”

“What are you doing, then? In this fantasy of yours?”

Yoongi presses closer, the outline of his hard cock pressing into the small of your back now. “Watching, at first. Wanna see you ruin him.” His hands skim along your skin, dip beneath the hemline of your shirt, dance across your stomach. ���Wanna watch you make him fucking cry.”

“Are you telling me how?”

Yoongi’s laugh is low, a little caustic. “I won’t need to. He’s so fuckin’ easy.”

“And yet you want him this bad,” you taunt. “Someone easy like that—doesn’t seem to be your type.”

He bites along your neck. “Watch yourself.”

“I’m not the one all fucked up over Kim Taehyung.” You make eye contact with the man in question. Watch as the look on his face fades into a smirk, syrupy and slow. Sleezy, you think. He probably is as easy as Yoongi says. “I should tell him how fucking hard you are. Should tell him you’re gonna take me home and fuck me and come thinking about him. That’s pretty fuckin’ dirty, Yoongi.”

It’s nothing you haven’t said before. Sometimes you press even harder, humiliate him a little when he seems to be in the mood for it, but this time he goes stock-still. Silence stretches between the two of you, the only people standing still on this dancefloor, and you’re halfway turned around to see if Yoongi wants to fuck or cry when he says, “Do it, then.”

You laugh. All part of the game. But then Yoongi grabs your hand, moves it to his cock, straining against his skin-tight jeans, some kind of message that’s gotten fucked up in translation. “Yoongi—”

“Tell him,” he says, expression shuttered and serious.

“You wanna think about this for more than ten seconds? You haven’t talked to him since the last time you guys hooked up and you want me to go tell him you… what? That you want to have some weird cuck threesome with him?”

That’s exactly what you told him.

(Because you know Yoongi, and you also know Taehyung. Your dig at him to Namjoon was very much based in truth, and with how fucked up the dynamics of your friend group are, it hadn’t taken much more than sending Yoongi out into the cold to order a taxi, swaying your hips a little, re-glossing your lips, and disposing of the girl with the bubblegum pink hair. No one had batted an eye.

“I’m going home to fuck my boyfriend,” you said, leaning into Taehyung’s space. He was draped on the couch again, legs spread in a way that was frankly obscene. “Would you like to join us?”

“That depends, angel. How do you fuck him?” he asked, spreading his legs wider.

You stepped closer. Cupped his cheek, dug your nails into his skin a little, and said, “Better than you ever did,” all condescension.

Taehyung had just laughed. Pressed his tongue into the fat of his cheek. “I guess we’ll see about that.”)

And now you’re here, Taehyung sprawled on the bed beneath you. You can see why a sight like this would have Yoongi fucked up as long as he has been: Taehyung’s golden skin contrasting against the crisp white of the sheets, dark hair fanning against the pillows, curls falling into his eyes, chest heaving. Each time he throws his head back you’re torn between sinking your teeth into the column of his throat and wrapping your hands around it. It’s easy to ruin him when he looks like this; easy to give Yoongi what he wants.

“What should I do with you?” you think out loud, and Taehyung’s responding whimper draws a laugh out of you. “Yoongi wants to watch me fuck you,” you continue, hands teasing toward the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. You pinch, slap away the sting. “Would you like that?”

Taehyung’s cock—long and thick, still glistening with spit from when you sucked him off—twitches at the thought. “Y-yeah, fuck, want that,” he answers, hands moving to fist the sheets. He’s been so good. Has done exactly as you said. “Wan’ you to fuck me.”

“Should I fuck you the way you used to fuck your hyung?” Both Taehyung and Yoongi moan at the same time, and it’s so stupid, you think, this game they’ve been playing. Cat and mouse, as if the conclusion hasn’t been inevitable this whole time. “Use your words, Taehyung.”

“Yeah,” he says again, Adam’s apple bobbing heavily in his throat. “Y-yeah, like that.”

You hum, reach behind you for the bottle of lube. Yoongi mutters a quiet shit from the other side of the room and you glance over. Mouth hung open, lips wet; jeans pushed halfway down his thighs, the outline of his cock visible through his briefs, hand squeezing at the base. Cheating a little, but still not touching himself the way you know he wants to. He’ll be the first to cry, at this rate.

Eyes back on Taehyung. You wonder if he’d normally preen, put on a show. You wonder if he did that with Yoongi, some whole thing. “He’s told me about it, you know,” you say, clicking the lube open. Sounds more like a gunshot in the small space of your bedroom, where the only other sounds are labored breathing and the city outside. “Told me all about how you used to split him open with that big cock.” You tip the bottle sideways, let the lube dribble out and over Taehyung’s balls. He hisses at the cold, mutters a swear. “Told me he’d struggle to take it sometimes.”

“You two are—fuck.” Whatever Taehyung was going to say is cut off as your finger follows the lube, trails down to his hole. You circle it there, make sure it’s wet, press a little just to watch his hips jerk. “You two are fu-fucking weird.”

“Mm, maybe,” you concede, “but you should see how hard he comes when he’s thinking about you.”

You gather more lube on your finger, then, and press it inside. Just to the first knuckle, just enough to make Taehyung whine. “I guess you already know that, though,” you continue. Pour a little more lube on Taehyung’s skin. Pull your finger out enough to slicken it, push it back in a little further. “Was it good for you?”

His moan is broken and low, deep and heady. A sound that makes the world feel like it’s tilting; a sound that makes you want to chase it. “Yeah,” Taehyung answers, and it could be a response or a declaration when it’s followed by, “so fucking good.”

“Yoongi is good, isn’t he? He listens so well.” With your free hand, you grab Taehyung’s face roughly, turn his head in the direction of where Yoongi’s sitting. “Look at him,” you instruct. He already looks fucked-out. Cheeks flushed, breathing hard, knuckles white where he’s gripping onto the arm of the chair. “Look at how good he’s being, not even touching himself.”

And Taehyung… Taehyung almost looks ashamed. Won’t meet Yoongi’s gaze, now that they’re so close, now that it’s real, and this won’t do, will it, so you dig your nails in a little harder, drag them down his cheek, tell him again to look at his hyung. Then—

For the first time all night, their eyes meet at the same time.

Yoongi’s whimper is loud. The loudest you’ve ever heard him outside of actual sex. You work in a second finger alongside the first, build up a steady rhythm, and Taehyung isn’t faring much better. Little by little he opens up for you and you’re thankful for the way he sucks you in, adjusts. It’s getting harder to ignore the heat between your own legs, watching two beautiful men fall apart in vastly different ways, even though you want to drag this out, want to make Taehyung cry and give Yoongi exactly what he wanted.

And, god, Taehyung is so fucking pretty.

You tell him as much, and his smile is greasy, looks even more lewd when you crook your fingers and his eyes roll back. He’s still tight around you when he asks for a third so you shake your head, tell him no, tell him he’s greedy, and you think people must not make him beg much, the way he’s pouting. Taehyung has a face that gets him whatever he wants and a cock to match, and you’d understood it before, why Yoongi couldn’t really let it go, but it’s different when it’s right in front of you, making a mess of your sheets.

“I must be going soft on you,” you tell him, working in another finger the next time he asks. “Yoongi wanted me to make you cry and here I am, giving you whatever you want. Maybe I should let him decide what you get.”

Taehyung shoots a hand out, grabs at your forearm. “Don’t,” he says, voice hoarse, bordering on pleading. “Please. He’s still mad at me, won’ give me anything.”

A huff of breath escapes you. “He doesn’t look very mad to me. Looks like he could probably come on command if you told him to.” It’s not an exaggeration, not really; Yoongi is gone, looks like a stiff wind could have him spilling all over himself. “But maybe that’s what you deserve.”

You nail Taehyung’s prostate the next time you crook your fingers and he sobs. You do it again, then a third time. Precome oozes out of his cock, deepens the pool on his belly. You keep it up until tears pool on his waterline, until he’s reaching for you again, begging you to stop, words cracking as he tells you desperately that he’s going to come. “Angel, fuck, please, I’m gonna—”

“No, you’re not,” you tell him, all authority. “You’re not going to come, are you, because I haven’t told you to. Yoongi hasn’t told you to.”

The first frustrated tear streaks down Taehyung’s cheek. “Oh my fucking god,” he chokes out, forcing his hips flat to the bed, tries to force you to stop moving. But your rhythm is steady, confident, three fingers working with the space he’s left you, and it isn’t until you watch his balls tighten that they slow. Taehyung’s sweat-slick, looks even more golden under the amber lamplight, and it’s dizzying, the way the color shifts as his chest heaves with his ragged breaths.

There’s only enough time for you to slip your fingers out, grab the lube, slick up the strap-on that’s fastened around your hips, before you’re pressing the head against Taehyung’s hole, still dripping wet. “It’s so big,” you muse, grinning wickedly at the man beneath you, “I don’t know if it’s going to fit. What do you think, Yoongi? Is this how you used to feel?”

When you look over this time, Yoongi has his cock out, briefs tucked beneath his balls, stroking fast. Clicking your tongue, he looks up through half-lidded eyes, hand stilling immediately. His nod is almost imperceptible, too disoriented to answer, and you’ll give him this one. Won’t push it. What you will push, though—

“Shit.”

You’re not sure if it comes from Yoongi or Taehyung. It might’ve even come from you, because you’re transfixed, can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of your stupid flesh-colored dildo disappearing into Taehyung’s body. Fucking greedy, you think, mostly at yourself, because if this sight is good you can only imagine what you’d see if you were watching his face. Brows furrowed, mouth pinched. A look not far off from that night in the club, the determination on his face as he fucked that girl with his fingers, uncaring who heard or saw.

But this is your show. Yoongi’s fantasy. Whatever girls—people—Taehyung has fucked in seedy clubs across Seoul are of little importance here. All that matters is the steady push of your hips, the slow roll once you’re fully buried, the pleasure that jolts through you when you’re able to grind a little against the toy, the way Taehyung thrashes against the sheets, incoherent as he babbles, stuck between more and too much.

“Okay?” you ask, hands skimming along his warm skin. Goosebumps trail in their wake, and you settle them on his thighs. Press them up and to the side as he nods, giving yourself more space, and Taehyung’s moan is loud, unabashed. His cock lies neglected against his stomach, begging you to reach out and grab it, stroke him, make him come too fast so you have another bruise to press on, some way to embarrass him.

But this is your show, Yoongi’s fantasy, and you don’t have to look because you can hear how close your boyfriend is to getting himself off. Can hear the way his breath hitches, can hear when his rhythm changes. Quicker, now. More insistent. If Taehyung looked over at him, it’d be all over, and you almost tell him to do that, too.

“Stop touching yourself,” you say to Yoongi. A second time when he disregards the first, too far gone, too close. “Yoongi.” He whines but he listens, shoves his fingers in his mouth to stem the urge, and Taehyung watches it all.

You’re still thrusting, thighs burning, sticky where they meet Taehyung’s, and it won’t be your lengthiest performance, that’s for sure. So you call Yoongi’s name again, beckon him over, and he hesitates, looks so unsure. But it’s so stupid, the way he and Taehyung dance around one another—and you know, you know Taehyung wouldn’t be shaking like this if it were just you, if Yoongi wasn’t in his head, wasn’t watching—so you’re insistent. “Come here,” you tell him, and you make sure your voice is spun sugar when you say it.

Yoongi listens. Stumbles over on unsteady legs, knees nearly buckling when he gets close enough to also watch the way the strap-on fucks into Taehyung’s hole, the way it stretches obscenely to accommodate it. “Baby.” He threads his hands into your hair and kisses you hard and messy. Taehyung moans beneath you so you know he’s watching, and you will your body to move faster, fuck him harder.

When Yoongi pulls back, it’s obvious. The longing in his eyes. “Tell him,” you say, and he looks caught-out, would almost look angry if he were capable of it. “This is your fantasy, isn’t it? So tell him.”

“I—” He looks down at Taehyung again, meets his gaze again, and he must see something there you can’t, because all the hesitation is gone when he says, “I want to kiss you.”

And you know what it means.

Because that had been the rule between the two of them. No staying the night, no kissing. You know what it means for Yoongi to ask for that, what it’d mean if Taehyung allowed it, and it nearly cracks your heart in half that it’s the only thing he’s willing to ask for when his wants are endless when it comes to Taehyung.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung moans. “Fuck, hyung, yeah—yeah, c’mere, kiss me, please, fuck.”

Yoongi looks like he’s been punched in the gut. Looks overwhelmed, given this kind of permission, so he goes about it all wrong. Starts to kneel at the side of the bed before you tsk and grab him by his own hair. “Do it right,” you instruct.

He moans. Aborts whatever he was about to do and climbs over Taehyung on the bed, straddles him, fitting in between both of you perfectly, close enough for his cock to slot against Taehyung’s. They both moan, and their game had been so fucking stupid it sends a lick of anger through you. Yoongi ruts his hips once, twice, and then he’s leaning down and cupping Taehyung’s face and pressing his lips—still wet from you, still wearing your spit—to Taehyung’s.

And Taehyung comes immediately, nearly untouched. Spills all over himself with a loud, broken sob.

“Holy shit,” you say, hips slowing until they’re still. “Holy shit, that was fucking hot, what the fuck.”

Taehyung trembles in the comedown and Yoongi presses in closer, kisses him through it. Can’t seem to stop now that he’s allowed. He’s still rutting, has Taehyung teetering on oversensitivity, so you grab Yoongi’s hips to slow him. “Careful, baby,” you say softly into his ear. Press a kiss to the nape of his neck. Give him a minute to back away from the ledge again and get himself under control, let Taehyung catch his breath. “Are you okay, Taehyung?” you ask, hands once again touching any of his skin you can find. You knead at the muscles in his calves.

There’s some garbled response. Something you think is supposed to sound like an affirmation. “Words, please.”

“Y-yeah,” comes his response.

“Okay. I’m gonna go grab something to clean you up, all right?” You press another kiss to Yoongi’s shoulder, turn your attention to him. “Then we’ll finally give you what you want, yeah? Finally let you come.” A shiver runs up his spine and he nods weakly. “Can you prep yourself while I’m gone?” Another shaky nod. “Good boy. Gonna pull out now, Tae.”

You do so slowly. Taehyung hisses, sucks in a breath through his teeth. Hisses again when you replace the toy with your thumb, try to ease the discomfort of being so suddenly empty. With another kiss pressed to Yoongi’s shoulder, you mumble an I love you into his hair, and then you’re gone.

There’s always been something about the way Yoongi touches himself.

Like the goal is more than simply getting off. Like there’s reverence in it, something beyond purpose. Yoongi touches himself the way other people drop to their knees at church and pray.

Sometimes it’s long and drawn out. Sometimes his hands skirt over every inch of his own skin before he finally brings them to his cock. Sometimes he rests on his haunches in the middle of the bed and angles himself toward the mirror and watches, his cheeks aflame the entire time because he’s embarrassed to see himself like that, three of his own fingers fucking himself, but the embarrassment almost feels just as good. Sometimes he has you beneath him, raining down praise as his fist works the length of his cock.

Sometimes he does it entirely wrong, like now.

Two pale, lube-slick fingers work in and out of his hole. His own, then, and not Taehyung’s. Just like you’d asked. You’re a little surprised, thought maybe Yoongi might panic and retreat with you gone, but they’re both where you’d left them. Taehyung’s talking all the while, saying god knows what in that deep timbre, and it’s straight up pornographic the way his large hands rest on the cheeks of Yoongi’s ass, pull them apart.

The damp cloth in your hand feels useless. Is useless, you think, because Yoongi had told you something, once, deep in the throes of another cerebral fantasy—

“I can’t believe I have to keep telling you this,” you say, and everything immediately goes still at the sound of your voice, “but do it right, Yoongi.”

Taehyung lifts his head, stares at you skeptically. Probably mirroring the look on Yoongi’s face that you aren’t privy to with his back to you. “We’ve talked about this,” you continue, stalking closer. All eyes on you as you drop the cloth to the floor. “Are you clean?” you ask Taehyung, and he nods, expression still dubious.

And then you’re reaching between both of them, swiping your fingers through the mess of cum on Taehyung’s stomach, and he understands immediately. “Are you gon—fuuuck. Fucking christ.” The first swipe goes to Yoongi’s mouth, and there’s no hesitation as he sucks your fingers clean. Your free hand finds Yoongi’s, the one he’s working himself open with, and pulls it away. Replaces it with your own, your two longest fingers covered in the second swipe of Taehyung’s cum, and you fuck them in and out faster than Yoongi had been.

“Filthy,” Taehyung chokes out, clearly overwhelmed; another groan when Yoongi starts sucking at his neck, biting, claiming.

It’s primal, the way Taehyung reacts, the way Yoongi embeds himself under his skin, tries desperately to make a home there. Something permanent this time; or, at least, a home that won’t burn down like the last one. Won’t be reduced to a smoking heap of bitter ash. And you wonder, as you watch the way these two beautiful men fit together, if Taehyung will be holding the match or the key this time.

You press slow, open-mouthed kisses along the knots in Yoongi’s spine. Drizzle more lube on your fingers, work him open more. Whisper I know, baby, I know when he gets impatient and a little too demanding. Swap the condom on the strap-on and slick it up, just like last time, and then you’re pressing into Yoongi instead of Taehyung, the way you’ve done so many times before.

Everything is familiar and different: the drag, the pull, the noises spilling out of Yoongi’s mouth. Those staccato whines varied in pitch, sometimes drawn out and sometimes punched and short. This is what you know. This is your home, and you think, as Taehyung looks at Yoongi, so fucking endeared, as he gently cups his face, as he says—

“Hyung, you look so pretty. You’re doing so well, hyung, fuck, I didn’t think I’d ever see you like this again.”

—you think your house might look nice with an addition. An extra space carved out only for Taehyung. A room where Yoongi can exist in endless adoration.

“Make yourself useful, Kim Taehyung.”

Because Taehyung listens. Because Taehyung is good in all the ways that Yoongi is good, and he doesn’t have to be told twice when the order deals in Yoongi’s pleasure. So all of you adjust until Yoongi’s on his hands and knees, gripping tightly onto the headboard, and Taehyung shuffles down the bed until he can get his mouth on Yoongi’s cock.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” you say, and Taehyung moans at the praise, the vibrations making Yoongi gasp and jerk.

You know when you hit his prostate, too; know this is going to be over soon from the way he buries his face in the crook of his elbow and screams. You know it from the way he starts to shake. From the unintelligible filth that pours from his mouth as Taehyung swallows him all the way down. From the way he stutters out a, ba-baby, wha’bout you, gonna come like this, and you pet his hair, voice soft again when you say, this is for you, Yoongi, you can come, I know it’s so much.

There’s a final husky, drawn-out moan, and then there’s quiet.

Lucidity returns slowly.

The heat kicks on. A police siren wails in the distance, seven floors below you. You re-wet your cloth and do your best to clean the dried cum from Taehyung’s skin, your smile fond as he whines at the cold, tries to squirm away. Yoongi doesn’t move an inch, just collapses face-first onto the mattress and lets everyone fuss over him. Starts snoring a few minutes later, after you’ve pulled the duvet up to his ears and he’s tucked in and warm.

You move to the dresser. Pull out two t-shirts—oversized on you, tight in the shoulders on Taehyung—and clean underwear. And then you pause, because Taehyung’s already plucking his own clothes off the floor, already has his fucking socks and briefs on, and it’s… it doesn’t feel right, is the thing. Doesn’t feel like he should be leaving. Not tonight, maybe ever.

“Where are you going?” you ask, and you do a good job of keeping the hurt out, at sounding normal.

Taehyung doesn’t get it. Looks at you like you’re a little stupid and a lot crazy, because he looks at you, then at the world outside the window, and finally at Yoongi before answering. “I—leaving?”

“Why?”

Taehyung looks at you like you’re a lot stupid this time. “I don’t…” Pauses. Tries to sink into the floor to no avail. “Look, I think maybe this was a mistake? Hyung and I—I don’t think this is what he wants.”

“And how do you know what he wants?”

“Because we’re here,” he answers, anger seeping in. “Because I’m standing in your apartment. His girlfriend, and—”

You sigh. “If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you, but I think it’d really hurt him if you left.” You leave off the again. It’s not your trauma to dredge up. Yoongi wouldn’t want you to, and that’s reason enough. “I would like it if you stayed, if that means anything.”

“The two of you are fucking weird,” he says again, but he looks less torn. Looks less like he would plow you over to get to the door, and it’s… progress. It’s good. You can work with a halfway thing. “Hyung would really—you think he wants me here?”

It’s spoken about in the way a broken thing always is: delicately, hesitantly, like Taehyung’s afraid of the answer, afraid to find out the results of this stupid game of his own design. “He does. It’s not my place to say much more than that, but I think the two of you are overdue for a conversation, if nothing else.”

Taehyung nods. Starts looking less and less like he’s out of place; starts looking like object permanence, takes a corporeal form within the four walls of your bedroom. “There’s space here for you,” you say, with the amount of care words like these require, “if you want it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Whatever you want it to. Nothing has to be decided right now, but I know Yoongi. You know him, too. I just don’t want to see him hurt again.”

Taehyung nods again. Peels his socks off. “You’re sure?” he asks, and when you nod, he climbs back into bed, seems to somehow know which side of the bed is Yoongi’s, two magnets drawn together. Something inevitable.

You breathe out a sigh. Finally slip the t-shirt and underwear on. Flick the lamp off and let yourself have a minute to enjoy the calm, Yoongi’s body heat next to you, still snoring softly between you and Taehyung. And then, because you can’t resist—

“You two are really fucking stupid, you know that?”

You hear Taehyung swallow. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sounding the part of a scolded child, and as much as you try not to, you’re smiling again, fond and endeared, into the dark. “I know.”

“Okay. Go to sleep, Tae. I expect a very nice thank you gift in the morning.”

It doesn’t happen in the morning. Not really.

It happens sometime in the middle of the night. The light streaming in through the sheer curtains gives away nothing more than silver-amber light, the moon and the city. Could be minutes since you fell asleep, could be hours; all you know is Yoongi’s at your back, arm slung possessively over your middle, and his heat is stifling.

“Yoongi,” you hiss, because it’s not just his heat. He’s hard again, cock pressing against the swell of your ass just like it was in the club, and you feel him smile against your neck when he realizes you’re awake. Feel him rock his hips, just a little.

He nips at your lobe, your jaw. “Hi, baby,” he says, like this is just another morning. Like he’s about to present your favorite mug to you, coffee fixed exactly how you like it. “Why didn’ you wake me up?”

“For what?” you breathe out, voice already wavering. All Yoongi has done is skim his warm hands under your oversized t-shirt, swirl a finger around your navel.

Yoongi tuts. Feels weird to be on this side of it, the illusion of condescension. “To fuck you. Make you come. You didn’t earlier.”

“I meant what I said—”

“I know you did,” Yoongi interjects, “but I don’t find that to be a very acceptable excuse.”

You roll your eyes, no heat in it, but then Yoongi’s hand moves to the hem of your underwear and slips inside. Your hips jerk when he moves two fingers lightly over your clit, jerk again when he finds you already wet and groans deep and husky into your ear. And it’s not loud, but it’s loud for this room at whatever-the-fuck time it is. “Gotta be quiet,” you whisper to him, and he laughs, thinks you’re joking. “I’m serious,” you say, and you want to sound authoritative but it comes out as a whine when he sinks those fingers into your cunt.

“Why would I need to be quiet?” he asks. Crooks them as best he can from this weird angle, you on your side with your back pressed to him, Yoongi halfway on top of you. “Shouldn’t I be loud?” He hits a spot that whites your vision. “Shouldn’t everyone in this fucking place hear it?”

Usually you wouldn’t care. Your apartment building has heard worse, including whatever debauchery the three of you had gotten up to mere hours ago, but—“Taehyung’s asleep.”

Yoongi startles, goes still. “What?”

“What.”

“What d’you mean Taehyung’s asl…” You feel him turn. Feel him realize, for the first time, that there is a very-asleep Taehyung on his other side, and you want to ask how he hadn’t noticed before, want to say didn’t you realize how cramped this bed is, it’s not big enough for three people, we’ll have to get a new one, but. Yoongi hadn’t expected him to stay, hadn’t expected it to even be an option, so of course it would’ve been a blind spot.

Your heart cracks in half again.

“What’d you say to him?” he asks. Not accusing, almost awed, like you knew a code, the secret passcode to getting Taehyung to stay that Yoongi hadn’t had before.

You reach back, find Yoongi’s hair. Scratch gently at his scalp. “Just that I thought you’d like it if he stayed. That’s it, nothing else. I wouldn’t.”

“I know, I wasn’t…” He sucks in a deep breath, holds it, lets it go. He’s okay. “This is okay with you?”

A laugh spills out of you. “You’re asking me that now? I was nearly fist-deep in his ass a few hours ago but him sleeping in our bed is crossing some kind of line?”

“Sex can be different,” Yoongi argues, “and it’s me, you know, like it’s my hangup, not yours—”

“I want you to be happy,” you answer honestly. “Whatever that looks like. I told him there’s room for him here if he wants it, but they’re not my knots to untangle. If he wants to stick around, if you two can get your shit together… we’ll figure it out. It only needs to make sense to us.”

Silence. Then—“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my fucking life,” Yoongi groans. “Jesus Christ.”

“I should’ve known hyung was the type to get a boner from open and honest communication.”

Yoongi startles again at the low rasp of Taehyung’s voice. “And that’s exactly why I said I fuck him better than you,” you fire at him, deadpan. He laughs. You don’t have to look at Yoongi to know how red he’s turned.

“You said that to him?” he chokes out, all mortified disbelief, at the same time Taehyung says, “Maybe you’ve got a point, angel.”

The mattress sinks under Taehyung’s weight as he shuffles closer to the two of you. Must touch Yoongi somehow, because there’s a high-pitched whine from the back of his throat, so loud in your ear, has heat coursing through you. “Finish what you started, hyung,” Taehyung says, and Yoongi’s nod is jerky, his hands uncoordinated under Taehyung’s watchful stare.

Yoongi moves over you fully, wastes no time before he’s working his fingers in and out at a steady rhythm, sucking at your skin. Taehyung groans quietly, doesn’t need to be told a goddamn thing; rids you of your shirt so Yoongi can mouth his way from your jaw to your neck, collarbones to chest, one nipple and then the next. Pleasure licks up your spine, outweighs how overwhelming it is to have Yoongi this geared-up, wound this tight; to have Taehyung’s hands roaming over every inch of skin his hyung doesn’t have his mouth on.

“Yoo-Yoongi,” you choke out, because this has really gone from zero to a hundred and he’s been pressing incessantly on your g-spot for too long to remain unaffected.

It’s building, building, building, and you’ve fully lost control of your hips, grinding against the heel of Yoongi’s palm like you’re desperate for it. (You are.) And Taehyung just laughs darkly, says, “Think she’s gonna come, hyung,” just to get under your skin.

“Mm, yeah. Might make a mess.” He slaps at your clit and that’s it, that’s what does it.

And Yoongi knows you, doesn’t he, because he knows how you like to get fucked. Knows to click his tongue at you, give you that disappointed look; knows to wipe your release on your thighs. Knows to barely let you catch your breath before he’s slipping on a condom and pushing inside of you.

After his fingers, the stretch from his cock feels dizzying. Feels on the edge of too much, and Taehyung’s commentary is doing fuck-all to help you come back to earth. Keeps saying shit like goddamn, hyung, yeah, fuck her like that. Maneuvers you so your back is pressed to his chest, now, your head on his shoulder, so Yoongi can slip his tongue into Taehyung’s mouth while he ruins you. It’s filthy, it’s so fucking filthy, and you think, selfishly, that a room won’t be big enough. You’d build Taehyung an entire goddamn house to keep it like this, to keep the three of you safe in this bubble.

“Imagine, hyung,” Taehyung starts, and you know what comes out of his mouth next is going to be nasty. Yoongi knows it, too, eyes starting to go glassy. A million constellations reflected as he looks at the two of you. “If we fucked her at the same time. Both of us in that tight pussy. Our cocks togeth—”

You’re not sure if the deafening moan comes from you or Yoongi. Either way, his hips falter, cadence reduced to stuttered thrusts as he tries desperately not to come just from Taehyung spewing more filth out of his devilish mouth. But you want to see it. Want to see what happens when he’s pushed to the brink of horny delirium, so you say—

“Do it.”

—and Yoongi has to stop altogether. Grips your hips so hard you know they’ll bruise, and you think, for a second, that he actually did come. Everything is quiet for a second, just more labored breathing, and then Yoongi picks his head up. Looks more fucked-out than you’ve ever seen him, even more than earlier, and looks straight at Taehyung.

“Put your fingers in her.”

Taehyung breathes harshly through his nose. Waits for you to nod, give him the okay, and then his hands leave your hair and skim down your body. They’re so warm, so large, cover so much skin that it truly feels like he’s everywhere, like it’s more than just him touching you. The closer he nears to your cunt, the more overpowering it is, the harder it is to breathe.

“Is this what you want, angel?” he asks, words warm on your skin as he presses them just below your ear. “You’re a greedy girl, getting hyung’s cock and my fingers.” He rubs circles into your clit, sends you spiraling. You’re dangerously close to a second orgasm (could be a third, could be a hundredth, considering Yoongi never let you come down from the first) and there’s a split-second right before he dips his fingers into your cunt, works them in alongside Yoongi’s cock, that you feel engulfed.

Everything is on fire.

You, most of all.

Taehyung sucks his fingers into his mouth, gets ‘em wet, works in slowly. Just his middle finger at first, and Yoongi falters again, moans out an oh fuuuck that betrays exactly how far gone he is. And you aren’t far behind, the stretch from both of them unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You can’t imagine how it’d feel if it was more than just Taehyung’s fingers, except you can, and Taehyung notices when the thought has you clenching, has you a little wetter, because he laughs at you, tells Yoongi like he can’t tell on his own. Like your boyfriend is a little dumb, like he’s never fucked you before, and that does something to both of you.

One finger turns into two. Yoongi’s a fucking mess, absolutely gone of the feel of them inside you, against his cock, can’t stop moaning. The tight fit has Taehyung’s fingers pressed snug against your g-spot, exactly how Yoongi’s had been, and it’s too much. Too much.

“I’m, fuck—I’m gonna—”

When you come it feels like the end of the world. It feels like rapture. It feels like every atom in your body has been rearranged, like the gods themselves are rewarding you specifically with the sound of Yoongi following right behind you, moaning low and ragged, spilling into the condom.

In the comedown, he kisses you—soft, tender, with every iota of love and affection contained in him. “I love you,” he says. Presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You okay?”

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. “Give me three to five business days to decide.”

Yoongi’s smile is shy, almost embarrassed. More gums than anything else. Behind you, the rumble of Taehyung’s laughter against your back, rattling your ribs. Rattling your heart, maybe, lodged safely between them.

It expands, makes more room—the one for Taehyung, that house—and Yoongi’s lips find Taehyung’s next and you know it’ll be okay. These two stupid boys, they’ll figure it out, put a cease fire to their foolish game.

Yeah, something inevitable.

as always, thank you for reading! my inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. i’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

[olympiansowl]

I’m gonna do a thread of why I think that Miriel will live. First, I’m not exactly a Tolkien expert, I still have to finish a lot of his books, but I’m gonna point out why I think killing her isn’t the best choice, not only from the “I love her and she’s my fav” line but from the “it doesn’t make sense to me as audience/reader" line. And, at the end, i will say why I think she will die. I am torn on this topic.

1 - The hints i talked about previously. Galadriel tells Miriel that she doesn't have to choose the path of fear and that she can choose the path of faith. We see that Miriel is really afraid of that faith because her father was forced out of his throne for it and, at the top, because she knows Numenor will be destroyed. She, eventually, makes a choice and we see that she has chosen faith. In the books, we know very little about her, but in the series we are actually seeing how much of an effort she’s making to follow the right path. Another hint, that might not be a hint, is the scene with that wood dolls (I don’t know the name in English, sorry) and Galadriel is saving Miriel from a dark place. Might hint that maybe something different will save Miriel in the end and it also might mean that she actually just accepted the Gods and made the right choice. Another one, that might be my favorite one: the DAMN EAGLES! Really, every single time we saw them in adaptation, it was to save someone. They saved Frodo, Sam, Gandalf, Thorin and his whole company…I know the eagle it’s sign on the scene, it shows that Miriel is the rightful Queen and in the books we see that they also disappear bc of her grandfather and bc of Pharazon, but they’re connected to the Gods, so I’m a little bit hopeful.

2 - THE GODS! Forgive me, guys, but Gods are supposed to be merciful, you know? Specially those Gods! Like, they know who tries and who doesn’t. They send giant birds to coronations and they also made clouds, like eagles but in clouds, appear on the sky to warn Numenor that they weren’t pleasing them. They see everything and not her efforts? Like bitch please there’s no way they don’t see that Miriel has been suffering like Jesus!

3 - Why her death doesn’t make sense to me in the books and why it won’t make sense if she dies like that in the series: she’s a good one. And the really, extremely good ones that I read about didn’t die. Not only that, but like I said, that woman is suffering too much to just die? When we watch a series that a woman suffers too much, she never dies. I can point a lot of female characters that suffered for at least three lives and are still out there surviving the most dangerous and traumatizing things. For me, it didn’t make sense for Tolkien to kill her just for the sake of narrative because her death doesn’t impact other arcs. Numenor was already destroyed, she was not a Queen anymore because she didn’t have a kingdom. I think he just killed her because he didn’t want to go too much into her, because it doesn’t make sense for a man that portrays faith in the way he does, to just kill of a character that has been faithful and tried to do the best for her people. In the series, she’s more explored and we actually see her efforts. She got blinded, usurped, might be forced to marry, will pass through a damn trial with a giant sea monster…all that, and all that fucking magic, and girl can’t be saved? Be fr. The actress said she had to get a license, so Miriel will probably be underwater for a time and I do believe Numenorians have some elvish blood on them, even if it’s little…she has to live.

4 - Now as a viewer. I heard, don’t know if it’s true, that they can change how a character will die, but not if that person will survive or not. Like Saruman. He dies in a different way, but still dies. So, to me, as a viewer and seeing how they’re writing female characters, it would make more sense for Miriel to die in battle. And on the last battle, alongside the others. Miriel seems to be more rational, so I have trouble thinking that she might just die while trying to make everything right. I am not the producers or the writers, so I don’t know how they would write the rest of her arc, but I could only hope to see her with Elendil, building a new kingdom. I also want to know the point of Earien. I love the actress and I know that the character is young but like…she helped usurp a Queen, using her faith against her…the same faith her father has 🤡 and she’s doing all that bc her brother decided to go to war. He could’ve stayed but he wanted to go. Why tf this girl is blaming Miriel?

5 - As a viewer again: yes, for her to die in Numenor and all might make sense bc she fought to save that damn city, but she’s also worried about its people. Like, all the faithful are supposed to leave the island and those are the ones that are faithful not only to the gods, but to her…why would she stay on that damn city? She knows how this story will end.

7 - Why I think she might die: her arc with Elendil. I love them so much it hurts, but I think they’re going to build the “she’s going to make something out of me” kinda o story line. He became her eyes and she will teach him what she knows about being a leader. Lloyd said something like that in an interview and I couldn’t agree more, because she will hear what he sees and he will hear her interpretations. The feelings they have for each other will affect their path and her death will be his ultimate push to be a leader and honor her memory. What I think to be incredibly sad is that she will drown, trying to save her city. And his late wife also drowned while trying to save their son. A parallel, a sad one.

8 - What I hope for: hope is the last one to go. I would like to see her being saved by the eagle and marrying Elendil, or at least building the city with him. It would be amazing.

9 - Make noise on social media if y’all want the magical eagle to save that woman.

[soleilnomoon]

My friend, I heard it's the cool thing to leave things in your inbox and I want to be like the cool kids so here I am. How about a scenario with Kurosaki Ichigo trying to convince S/O to ask HIM out instead of him just doing the asking out himself? It can be whatever you want it to be: comedy, romance, fluff, smut. The choice is yours *finger guns*

sora... love of my life, light in my eyes, wind beneath my wings, etc. etc. etc. u have been so patient, and i'd apologize but u already know what kind of drama this fic put me thru!!! anyway!!! this was a labor of love (as always) yk i only ever want the best for u bbgorl 🥰️🥰️🥰️

5.9k words (DONT LOOK AT ME OMG), fem reader, nsfw, 18+, mdni; there's fluff i promise (who am i), angst bc why not, mutual pining, and smut; ichigo... is a dumbass, and i like seeing him suffer; i also like seeing reader suffer; a wild orihime appears! and some other miscreants. feat. cute things like: hair pulling, slight exhibitionism (shhh), oral (m receiving), dry humping, kIsSiNg, idk alcohol but a tiny bit; ichigo is down bad ok, idk what to tell u; reader is also down bad but she thinks she's being stealthy abt it. (if u see any typos/grammatical errors shhh no u didn't)

“imprison me in your name, let love kill me.” — mahmoud darwish

&

i love you, with a touch of tragedy and quite madly.” — simone de beauvoir

SUNDAY — 12:01 a.m.

in such a vast, mostly unexplored universe — where curses and wishes exist ubiquitously, teetering on opposite ends of a complicated spectrum of morality — there is one universal truth: love is a fucking battlefield. such is the woe of one kurosaki ichigo as he navigates through the various intricacies involved with such a strong emotion. if it was up to him, he wouldn’t suffer through it — but it’s not. his heart is incredibly foolish, his mind even more so; and despite what others might think, he’s not exactly as confident in his capabilities in romance. which is why he’s resorted to mapping out different ways to get you to do the work for him.

mostly because he can’t bear the agonizing feelings that come with vulnerability. so, rather than him ask you out, he’s attempting to get you to do it instead. inspiration strikes when he’s sitting at his desk after midnight, textbooks and notebooks strewn about, his studying long forgotten. ichigo spends an hour or so mulling over the hows and whys of everything, when a brilliant idea — or, series of brilliant ideas, rather — suddenly pops into his head. tearing out a piece of paper from his notebook, he scribbles down his thoughts, as if he’s afraid they’ll leave him forever if he doesn’t find a way to hold onto them. by the time he finishes, his hand is covered in splotches of ink, but he’s satisfied with his work.

he’s not completely sure if it’ll all pan out the way he wants, but he’s willing to give it a shot.

MONDAY — 10:56 a.m

it’s out of pure coincidence that he runs into you at the convenience store. you’re in an aisle with items that are on sale — a mega sale, at that — perusing through the little tubes of lotion and hand sanitizer, admiring the cute designs on each bottle, contemplating how many to buy. he’s tall enough that he spots you before you see him — which takes a long damn time, if he’s honest — but as you busy yourself looking at different items on the shelves, he takes to watching you from afar.

there’s something frighteningly beautiful about the way you make simple things look graceful and magical. from the way you carefully drag your fingertip along the labels, admiring the designs, giggling at some cute artwork; to the way you tilt your head, confusion clouding your vision as you debate internally over which product to buy; to the way you decide to shove as many items into your basket as possible, face flushed at the impropriety of purchasing so many — but they’re on sale, so you justify your shopping before you head to the cashier.

the entire time you move around, you feel his eyes on you; while he might think he’s being stealthy, you’re very aware of his presence. and how could you not be? ichigo isn’t someone you can ignore — nor would you ever try to, he’s such a dynamic person, kind without realizing, stubborn and silly, and, more importantly, incredibly handsome. you think it’s cute how he slinks through each aisle to follow you carefully — dressed as inconspicuously as possible — ducking whenever you turn your face to try and catch him, except he’s so damn tall that he can’t really hide too well.

still, you let him continue playing his little game, and head to the register to check out. maybe he’ll eventually let you in on whatever it is he’s planning if you play along. but he never approaches you, doesn’t call after you when you leave the store, which only leaves disappointment and confusion to fester around your stomach. he curses under his breath as he watches you walk further and further away from him; he’d meant to say something, to call out to you earlier, but nerves got the best of him, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.                                                                                             

TUESDAY — 3:39 p.m.

the library is packed, students crammed into each seat and table along the first few floors. after the fiasco from yesterday, ichigo is that much more determined to make sure that things go according to plan today. again, it’s out of pure coincidence, that he’s also at the library around the same time you are. it’s almost instinctual, the way he spots you right away; he admires the shape of your calves, the way your skirt sits snugly around your wide hips, barely reaching the middle of your thick thighs.

it’s impossible for him not to watch you, not when you pause to look around the floor for an empty seat — teeth sinking into your bottom lip, lashes fluttering every time you blink. he knows how much you hate being in crowds of people, how your focus wanes if there’s too much noise around, and how you like to be away from any sort of distraction — you’re quite the dedicated student, he supposes.

so, it’s no surprise that you bypass the floor he’s on and scurry up the stairs, hand gliding up the wooden railing; an innocuous move that has him clench the pencil in his hand tight enough to crack it. he’s suddenly hit with the desire to be a damn railing — an odd, maddening feeling as absurd as it is debilitating. he almost doesn’t hear his name being called, but he does eventually look away and he’s intercepted by orihime and tatsuki. they implore him to sit with their group to study, much to his annoyance because you’ve left his sight and now he wants to go find you.

but he’ll deal need to deal with them, first.

ichigo reluctantly agrees — only after orihime gives him a sweet, yet pleading look, and tatsuki smirks and mouthing what now, almost as if she’s challenging him to defy their request — and plops down on an empty chair. his long legs knock into the neighboring chair and his complaints are ignored by his friends.

you struggle as you lug your heavy bag upstairs to the fourth floor; it’s eerie there, much too quiet, and for some reason people stay away from it. superstitions run rampant around campus about how everyone who studies on the fourth floor happens to fail every exam and assignment. you’re not one to believe in stupid shit like that, but you do say a quick prayer before settling down on one of the lone tables in the middle of the floor. despite being relatively empty, it’s well-kept and very tidy.

sunlight filters through the thick glass of the windows, illuminating the dated furniture and archaic books that litter the bookshelves nearby. it takes a few minutes, but you set up your textbooks and notes so you can review for your upcoming exam. ten minutes pass before you groan for the fifth time and place your face in your hands. you thought that studying by yourself would give you some distance from ichigo, but unfortunately, he’s been on your mind since yesterday. you chew on your thumbnail and consider your options; for whatever reason, he’s too dense to realize that you like him, but maybe you’ll need to be more forthcoming and upfront — maybe even dangle some bait to encourage him.

WEDNESDAY — 8:12 p.m.

after your first round of exams, you invite ichigo over to your apartment for a movie — a small, celebratory break in between midterms. your argument is sound — although, he would’ve agreed regardless — and he volunteers to come with plenty of snacks. all you can do is nod, you’re much too captivated by the shape of his jaw and with how his lips stretch into a smile. absolutely infuriating. all it does is make him radiate like some damn sun god, and you’re offended by it.

and for some reason, a small flutter in your chest causes you to inhale a sharply — thankfully you’re already on your way out of the lecture hall, walking swiftly in the hopes of permanently ridding yourself of whatever this is. you spend the next few hours obsessively scrubbing and organizing your apartment; by the time ichigo arrives, you’re physically exhausted. you miscalculated quite a bit, naively thinking that a bit of manual labor would cure you of your burdensome desire. but it doesn’t. if anything, you think about him even more. how will you survive with him alone with you during the night?

he's in a similar predicament, having spent the duration of his afternoon obsessively thinking about how best to deal with you — the situation was rather stressful, and while he could just sit down and talk with you honestly, it seemed more appropriate to approach things this way instead. he’s been to your place a handful of times, and he commits just a bit more to memory whenever he can. you’re a colorful person with plants hanging and stacked around cutely; you have an affinity for cooking and have artsy pieces scattered throughout your apartment. it fits you perfectly, and he likes how much more relaxed you are whenever you’re away from campus.

“you weren’t kidding when you said bring a lot of snacks,” you say, disrupting his thoughts, voice light and melodic. you eye the bags in his hands and offer to grab a few; ichigo frowns and lifts the bags away and over your head.

“they’re not heavy,” he says gruffly. he rolls his eyes while walking around you, legs carrying him quickly to the living room. if he didn’t give himself some space, your perfume would hold him hostage again; the last time he was this close, the scent of warm apples and sweet strawberries clung to his lungs with every inhale for at least a week. if he’s not careful, he’ll willingly fall into your trap all over again.

he places the bags on the coffee table before sitting on the couch, legs spread wide as he leans back. he appreciates how comfortable it is — with cushions soft enough to easily lull him to sleep. he fights it, of course, especially when you sit down next to him, thigh casually pressed against his. you don’t seem as bothered about this as he is, and when you cross one shapely leg over the other, he covertly adjusts himself while you’re preoccupied with the tv, leisurely scrolling through the options with the remote.

if he has to pinpoint what to blame, specifically, he’ll say it’s your exposed shoulders and flimsy shorts, your round breasts that stretch out your shirt, and your continued insistence on not wearing a bra whenever you’re alone with him.

he swallows hard and reaches down for one of the water bottles he brought along with the snacks; in the middle of him chugging half of the bottle, you place a hand on his thigh and give it a squeeze. he chokes and coughs a bit, hand clutching the bottle harder than he means to, making the remaining liquid shoot out and splash onto your arm and shirt. a deep flush crawls onto his face and ears as he mumbles an apology; you press your lips together, but barely contain your laughter.

“ichigo, what the hell was that?” you’re grinning so hard that your cheeks hurt. he turns his face and wipes some water from his chin with the back of his hand. “it’s not a big deal, really.” and it isn’t. honestly. you finally pick a movie — something gory and full of suspense — and settle back next to him, body pressed closely to his. the water didn’t help, and your hand is back on his thigh, stroking up and down. you’re not sure what possesses you to do it, but the compulsion hit you hard the moment you saw him sitting on your couch. it’s a pet peeve of yours whenever people take up that much space — the habit is obnoxious and selfish — but since he looks so damn good doing it, you give him an eternal pass.

even through the denim of his jeans, he can feel the heat radiating off of your hand, especially when you brush against his bulge, making his erection that much more painful. his cock is thick and heavy, precum drips through his underwear as he clenches his jaw and inhales through his nostrils. you watch him through your lashes and rub your hand up and down his stiff length. his eyes track your movements, the way your tongue darts out and briefly runs along your lips; he’s sure he could cum just by watching you do that over and over again.

maybe he needs help, or maybe he needs to investigate your lips and tongue properly.

as if commanded by an invisible puppeteer, you lean closer and place a hand on his chest; if there was ever a moment for ichigo to act impulsively, it’s now. he tangles his fingers in your dark curls, firmly gripping, tugging you towards him. he slants his lips against yours, tongue licking inside your mouth, caressing your tongue, bringing a heat through your body, an inferno that won’t ever be satisfied. you climb onto his lap, chest heaving, mumbling nonsense like “what took you so long,” and “stop teasing me, please”, kisses growing sloppy and urgent.

whatever sliver of restraint he has vanishes completely once you grind your hips against his, that familiar ache swirling around your abdomen casts a haze over your mind, making your logic nonexistent. his hands settle on your hips, gripping them hard enough to make you gasp and whine, arousal slipping between your folds and dampening your panties. you roll your hips, slowly at first but picking up the pace when ichigo brings a hand to your ass and slaps it. the sting has you jutting your hips forward, pussy bucking against his clothed cock, moaning pathetically against his lips.

if this is a dream, please don’t wake him; there’s a low pounding in his ears, and he takes a moment to admire the curve of your round ass, cupping it playfully. your nails sink into his shoulders, and he hisses while littering kisses along your jaw and down your throat. you bite down on your lip, stifling another moan. the movie long forgotten, you let out a small squeal when he sucks on your skin — teeth and tongue marking you, goosebumps pricking your arms and legs. you know there’ll be a bruise tomorrow, but you don’t care; he can leave as many marks as he likes.

you almost tell him as much, mouth opening, words stumbling over one another. “ichigo, i—”

several loud knocks on your door — accompanied by the terribly obnoxious ringing from your doorbell — has you scrambling off of his lap, face flushed and warm. you practically sprint towards the door, although you pause to catch your breath and fix your clothes a bit. ichigo lets out a frustrated groan, arousal pummeling into him, making it hard to think straight. he hadn’t planned on moving from his spot on the couch, but when he hears multiple voices coming from the front door, cowardice wins out and he hides in your bathroom. it takes five minutes for his cock to settle down, but when he goes to join you in the living room again, several of your friends are eating and lounging around on the floor and couch.

ever the gracious host, you’re pouring drinks for everyone, only pausing when you catch ichigo watching you. already your voice is an octave too high, your panties are clinging to your pussy, damp from your slick arousal. you do your best to not make large movements, preferring to keep your thighs as close together as possible.

annoyance pricks along the back of his neck as keigo clinks shot glasses with mizuiro; he didn’t think that telling them about his plans with you would lead to everyone else showing up too. now there are plans of ordering pizza and wings, of playing drinking games. and naturally tatsuki volunteers ichigo to go pick the food up. he shoots you an apologetic look, one that you wave away noncommittally. you know it’s not really his fault, his friends are just like that. still, you make sure to keep your hair down to obscure the various marks on your skin. you frown a bit when ichigo leaves but fix your features when orihime bounces over to you.

with a tilt of her head, eyes wide and bright, clear and strangely critical, she asks, “what’s wrong?” you know she means well, but you’d rather not discuss the fact that you were seconds away from pulling ichigo’s cock out and riding him until your pussy gave out when they all decided to come over.

“hm?” you try to clear your mind and adopt a friendly smile, “nothing’s wrong, just a little tired.” it’s true, though; you really are tired. all that studying, all that obsessing, it’s bound to make a girl exhausted. you can tell that she wants to press the issue, but in typical orihime fashion, she smiles and leaves it at that. the noisiness only serves to sober you up, but you doubt you’ll be able to sate the desire that steadily keeps building inside of you.

THURSDAY — 1:43 p.m.

tatsuki drags you and orihime to the gym, claiming that running is good for the soul — or something to that effect. you vaguely remember promising her last night, after downing one too many shots of whiskey, that you’d gladly accompany her to work out. your head throbs, your hangover a reoccurring nightmare, one that seems to follow you around all day. you try weaseling out, try to flake, but tatsuki is determined and stubborn as hell. you both admire and despise her for it right now.

you take it easy and stretch with the girls, before heading towards the treadmills. what some might consider benevolence on the universe’s part, ichigo considers cruelty; case in point, the fact that you’re here in the gym, when he knows for a fact that you’re not the exercising type — you’ve blurted this out more times than he can count, which is why he remembers. he drops from the pull up bar and grabs his towel to wipe his face, chest constricting, breathing ragged at the sight of you.

in the back of his mind, he understands that your attire is practical, he’s also quickly aroused by it; your leggings cling to your legs, highlighting your curves, stretching tight around your ass. your tank top flowing, your breasts almost spilling out of your sports bra, it was too much for him to handle at once. incidentally, you feel that ichigo working out shirtless should be illegal; your throat dries as your eyes travel along his broad chest, a ravenous hunger taking hold of your senses, that bothersome ache returning as you press your thighs together. you didn’t realize you’d stopped walking to watch him, muscles firm and thick, sweat clinging to his skin.

tatsuki calls your name repeatedly, and you have to remind yourself that you’re here to exercise and not gawk. it’s then that it dawns on you, your brain will never function properly around him — now that you’ve felt him, you lack focus. his sweatpants sit low on his hips, causing you to actually lose your damn balance; it’s partially comical, but mostly pathetic when you trip over your feet and helplessly fall onto the floor. your hands ball into fists, fingers curled inward, nails leaving tiny indents into your palms. you barely feel it, though, you’re too busy trying to regulate your breathing.

“y/n are you okay?” orihime rushes to help you stand back up; your face burns and you know that if you don’t put some distance between you and ichigo quickly, you’ll end up embarrassing yourself even more.

“yep, just peachy!” the lie is flimsy and you know that she doesn’t buy it, but you’re sticking with it. the truth is just too pitiful. ichigo frowns, fingers twitching as he grips the bar harder. you’re normally not that clumsy, and he’s half tempted to go and see if you’re okay. but the girls crowd you and he knows he’ll only make things worse if he interferes. you finally find a treadmill and even though you should probably stay off of it, you decide to use it anyway. you set a decent speed and fix the incline, opting to jog until your legs give out. if you suffer one more transgression, you’ll never be able to face ichigo again. already you feel that familiar burning sensation in your thighs, but you don’t stop; you’re not sure how long you keep at it, but ichigo is long gone when your body has finally had enough.

you drink some water and try to catch your breath. your mind is buzzing; you wish it was ichigo who helped you up instead. it’s a strange thing to be disappointed about, but you can’t stop imagining his strong arms wrapped around your soft waist. a lightheaded feeling takes over, you’re not sure how much more you can take; you’re barely surviving as is with minimal interactions with him.

he heads straight for the locker room as soon as he’s done with his last rep; no amount of cold water from the shower can snap him out of the daze you put him in. everything about you is dizzying, and just remembering how your lips and hands were on him, how soft your ass was, how he was so close to sinking his cock into your pussy the night before, makes his cock hard all over again. he has enough sense to ignore it, but he saw you jogging and nearly fell off the pull up bar. you’re dangerous, that much is certain; he’s never been this captivated by a person, so it’s almost as if he’s navigating through new territory.

“fucking ridiculous,” he says bitterly and turns off the shower so he can get dressed. he knows what he needs to do, he just needs everyone in his life to stop interfering so he can properly talk with you alone.

FRIDAY — 6:15 p.m.

for whatever reason, his friends conspire together and decide to do dinner at orihime’s house. rukia and tatsuki both shoo orihime out of the kitchen, not wanting to deal with whatever strange concoction her impulses come up with. it’s meant to be a casual affair, which he reminds you again when he stops by your apartment to pick you up. ichigo raids your fridge for something to munch on while he waits, and after fifteen minutes, he makes his way down the narrow hallway to your room. the door is open, so he assumes you must be all done, walking in without announcing himself properly.

there are several outfits strewn about on your bed; after the fourth one, you huff and stomp around your room, the carpet soft underneath your feet as you try to reason with yourself. it’s really because you’re nervous that ichigo asked you to go with him — as his date. or, at least, you’re sure that’s what he meant by inviting you to the dinner. you told ichigo you wouldn’t take long, but that was clearly a lie — not an intentional one, but a lie nonetheless.

“are you still not done?” he pauses, eyes landing on your half naked body; he gets hard instantly at the sight of your soft stomach and thick thighs. you’re too focused on your current crisis that you barely register that he’s in your room as you head back into the closet to look for another dress. if he had better morals and sense, he’d leave you to get dressed at your own pace; but, unfortunately for him, his body is the worst kind of traitor. this has been the longest week of his entire life, but he’s thankful that he has you to himself again.

you put on a new dress and flip your hair over your shoulder. “help me, please.” because your arms are still sore from working out and you figure there’s no harm in asking for his assistance. his heart lodges itself in the base of his throat, hands shaking a bit — nerves or excitement, he’s not sure — but he manages to tug the small zipper up without much issue. his hands linger on your hips, cock stiff as it angrily presses against the front of his pants.

suddenly, you’re very, very aware of how close he’s standing.

he knows that if he doesn’t let go of you, he’ll feel inclined to skip the dinner altogether. but he doesn’t want to deal with the repercussions of flaking, so he decides against it. he does, however, brush his lips along the side of your neck, leaving behind a trail of slow kisses. you’re teetering over the edge, falling further under his spell as his hands roam along your body, roughly kneading your breasts over the fabric of your dress.

you test the proverbial waters and rub your ass against his bulge, which prompts him to bite your neck in warning. you let out a small yelp and softly moan his name; you end up losing more of your composure when he turns you around and kisses you. his appetite is insatiable, his kisses feverish and demanding, a frenzied whirlwind that has you unbuckling his pants and tugging his zipper down to pull out his cock.

his imagination will never compare — your hands are still soft as ever, even as they grip him eagerly, twisting while pumping up and down his length. he hisses when you rub your thumb against the tip and kisses you ardently, tongue brazen as it swirls around yours before sucking on it. you rub your thighs together, breathing unevenly, his kisses scalding and potent. you pry yourself away from him and sink to your knees, tongue running flat against his length, circling around his thick head of his cock and licking the precum that seeps out of his slit.

ichigo’s moans echo in your room, bouncing off the walls, prompting you to open your mouth so you can take in as much of him as you can. he presses a fist to his mouth when you start bobbing your head, cheeks hollowed, mouth hot and tight; you caress his balls with your free hand, enjoying the way his cheeks are flushed and the way he licks his lips while looking down at you. he doesn’t think when he grabs your head and starts fucking your mouth and doesn’t think when you hold onto his thighs and relax your jaw to accommodate for his girth.

 you can’t lie, you’ve been dreaming about this for longer than you care to admit — it’s almost embarrassing how badly you’ve wanted to have his cock in your mouth, but you never imagined that ichigo would be like this; rough, clumsy, but every bit as tantalizing as ever. you let him have his way, using your mouth and throat as he thrusts his cock deeper. you gag but maintain eye contact, tears streaming down your cheeks at the ferocity of his thrusts.

you know something must be wrong with you because your panties are soaked, the ache building from deep inside, bubbling and pushing you closer to the edge. you like this side of him, the one that’s a little unhinged and feral, a man possessed with a certain goal on his mind. he knows he should be a bit gentler, but the way you’re looking at him, like you’re more than pleased with how he’s handling you, convinces him otherwise.

“fuck,” he pants, breath coming out in shallow puffs. his phone rings, startling both of you; he wants to ignore it but has a feeling that it’s one of his friends asking for his whereabouts. he pulls out of your mouth, drool spilling down your chin. he has so many things that he wants to say to you, but none of them come to mind. you’re not ready for any of this to end, so you motion for him to pick up the phone and stroke his cock again.

he hesitates only for a moment, but you have a mischievous look on your face, and he knows better than to test your patience right now. “w-what is it?” he asks when he answers the phone, voice low and husky, a shiver sliding down your spine when you suck on the head of his cock. he clamps his mouth shut in the hopes of keeping as quiet as possible, but mizuiro sounds so concerned and keeps asking why he’s giving him one- or two-word responses. however, ichigo’s desire to fuck you is greater than his guilt; besides, he realizes, belatedly, that you want someone to catch him like this.

it's hot, he won’t lie. and he’d indulge you more, but with the way you’re stroking and sucking his cock, he doubts he’ll be able to tolerate a full conversation with mizuiro — especially as he drones on about how imperative it is for ichigo to keep his promises.

blah, blah, blah.

he cuts the conversation short, tossing the phone onto the floor behind him. he grabs onto your arm, hauls you to your feet, and his mouth is on yours again. orihime’s dinner party is the last thing on both of your minds, not when he leaves you breathless, kissing you until your lips are swollen, lipstick smeared. his hands are on the move again as he tugs your dress off of you, mouth placing messy kisses down your chest, teeth tugging on your hardened nipples before sucking on them. it’s impossible to keep steady when each ichigo’s mouth is ruining your life in the best way possible.

your arousal clings to the inner parts of your thighs, you’re practically begging him to fuck you, words barely coherent as you fuss at him, but he understands you just fine. after pulling the rest of his clothes off, he picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he holds you against the wall. if he were a better man, he’d have the courtesy to fuck you on your bed; but he isn’t thinking properly, and he’s tired of playing around. he snakes a hand lower, fingers rubbing your pussy, dragging needy whimpers out of you.

“ichigo, damn it,” your frustration is cute and he can’t help but continue to tease you. he slides his fingers into your tight, needy hole, fingers sinking deeply without much resistance.

“you’re so wet, i don’t think i need to prep you at all.” he’s impressed, actually and likes how your pussy keeps sucking his fingers back in every time he pulls them back. you buck your hips against his hand, and if it wasn’t for his arm holding you securely, you’d fall over with ease.

you can barely look at him, cheeks permanently flushed as you moan loudly for him. “that’s it,” he coaches, thumb circling around your clit, fingers scissoring roughly, “you want me to fuck you that badly?”

your eyes grow wide but you nod and breathe out a, “yes. i’ve been waiting for so damn long.” the confession surprises him, as he was under the impression that he was the only one who suffered the entire time. and, because his cock is running the show, he plucks his fingers out of you, lines his tip with your entrance and slams his cock inside. you claw at the back of his neck and all along his chest, legs trembling as his hips knock against yours roughly. nothing could prepare him for the way your plush, gummy walls suffocate him — wet and warm, a snug fit that he’ll never tire of.

you move your hips in tandem with his, matching the timing of his thrusts, as you press sloppy kisses along his jaw, nails raking down his broad back. ichigo’s hips rock forward, cock burrowing deeper with each stroke. both of you are at your limits, he knows he won’t last much longer, but he’ll try his best anyway. his pace quickens, your pussy making lewd, squelching noises, your wetness coating his cock prettily. your breasts bounce as he fucks you harder, your voice growing hoarse from how loud you are, enticing him to pound into you wildly.

he licks the base of your throat, groaning against your skin when you roll your hips, cunt full as his cock is buried to the hilt; his tip hits a spot that makes you hold onto him tighter, breathing shallow as you call out his name. he commits the moment to memory — something to look back on late at night — thoroughly enjoying how you’re writhing underneath him. he angles his hips, keeps them closer to yours, bucking against you recklessly — his cock bringing about an incurable madness that takes over your entire being.

maybe it’s because you’ve been denying yourself for so long — or maybe it’s because you’ve been teasing one another all week — but you feel as if a bit of weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. his balls are heavy, each slap against your ass makes you clench around him more. he rubs your clit, firm small circles that send tiny jolts throughout your body. your back arches as your walls spasm, fluttering around his cock, hips stuttering under his powerful thrusts. the orgasm leaves you dazed, eyes rolling back, your cunt puffy but greedy as it milks him shamelessly.

he never pegged you for a squirter, yet you keep defying his expectations. you want to bury your head underground for eternity, hating the way your orgasm has you incapacitated, slumping over him while your wetness spills onto your carpet.

ichigo keeps fucking you until his hips jerk, rhythm disrupted, cum thick and hot as it spills inside of you. he humps you lazily and you pepper his face with wet kisses, his heart leaping out of his chest as your fingers sift through his hair. both of you are sweaty and out of breath, but when you look up at him, something close to adoration flits across his face. you’re not sure if that’s a post-orgasm sort of thing, but you’ll take it for what it is.

you brush your lips against his, gently kissing him, and ask if he still wants to go to dinner. ichigo shoots you an incredulous look and you laugh in response. “okay, okay,” you pat his chest gently, “boyfriends shouldn’t look at their girlfriends like that.” you say it casually enough that it feels like a joke, but you’re too damn nervous to look at him to see his reaction.

his ears grow hot and he presses his lips together for a moment before mumbling a, “sorry, won’t happen again.” you pinch his cheek and playfully lick at his lips. a warmth travels to your chest, nestles into the crevices that line the inside of your heart, and makes you want to kiss him all over again. he takes that as a sign of forgiveness — although he isn’t actually sure if you meant it or not — and carries you over to your bed. while he initially set out to get you to confess first, somewhere along the way, his mission fell apart. still, he can’t say he’s unhappy about the outcome. and, sure, his friends might give him an earful for missing out on dinner, but he’s much more content and comfortable being with you right now to care.

[an-au-blog]

Just craving fluff and imagining College Au Shuggy celebrating the holidays by just doing very unchristmassy things together. They both seem like the type to like certain aspects of Christmas only to then be hit by waves of depression when the actual holiday arrives, so they just huddle under the covers together and watch Christmas classics such as “Die hard” or Gremlins together instead while eating Pizza and drinking eggnog till they can’t stand this stuff for another year. Buggy gives Shanks his gift at 2 am in the morning, an extremely ugly and old tacky sweater he found at a thrift shop a while ago. Shanks can immediately tell that it was cheap and Buggy most likely just went out and got him… SOMETHING, but also it’s hideous in a way he just adores and it has one of his favorite childhood cartoon characters on it and the fact alone Buggy went out and got him something is PERFECT and to Buggy’s horror that thing is gonna be his favorite sweater till the end of time. Buggy on the other hand suffers a mild mental breakdown and “Oh god I am the scum of the earth” reaction because Shanks actually went into a makeup store and got him an expensive eyeshadow Palette that Buggy has been eyeing for a while now. Kicker is Shanks didn’t even know that’s the Palette Buggy wanted, he legit just spent an hour in there with a picture of Buggy describing what Buggy looks for in makeup and what colors he likes and such and such and accidentally just landed on the correct one and rightfully deducted that he would probably like this one.

“WHY DID YOU GO AHEAD AND BUY ME THAT YOU HORRIBLE, UNFLASHY FANTASTIC BOYFRIEND?!” “I thought it would make you happy.” “IT WOULD IF I GOTTEN YOU ANYTHING GOOD AS WELL!! JUST A BED BATH AND BEYOND GIFTCARD WOULD HAVE BEEN WORSE!!” “Come on Buggy I love this thing-“ “THIS IS LIKE GIFT OF THE MAGI IF IT SUCKED EVEN MORE THAN IT ALREADY DOES!” “You could always kiss me to make up for it.” “I ALREADY DO THAT.” “Then let me kiss you… AND you’ll have to let me do it for the entire day without telling me I’m being sappy or disagreeing with me when I talk about how much I love you.” “…. Okay but you’re not allowed to say weird shit about my nose.” “…Can I kiss your nose?” “Ugh. I’ll allow it. But not in public!” “Deal. I won’t talk about how cute and kissable your nose is and I especially won’t talk about how cute and kissable it is in front of other people.” “YOU JUST- AUGH! You’re horrible! An absolutely awful boyfriend!” “Glad to have landed someone as amazing as you then.” “You-“ “Ah! We agreed on not disagreeing when I talk about how great you are!” “….fine.” “I love you... and I love how hard you blush when you can’t answer with a sassy comeback” “….mmmmnnnggghh!!! loveyoutoo.”

At first I was like "awww this is so adorable:')" but thwn I got to the dialogue part and went "ok, so we're assuming they're gonna get together, now are we ahahah"

I'm guessing you're the same anon who sent me a couple other college au asks - so first off: Thank you, you honestly keep me productive and remind me to finish this fic lol (since I named some of the others, maybe I can call you ogan - bc og anon or something idk, you can refuse or give me another nickname if you want...)

But also... have I given any indication that this will be a story with a happy end? Because, I've written ends with a doomed one sided love triangle, one of the main characters being hated by the love of their life and in a hospital, while the one the other was chasing rejected them indefinitely... it was my magnum opus for quite a while, so who's to say I'll give this one an ending like that?

I'm joking, I'm joking... or am I >;]]]

Anyway, I love the idea of them spending the holidays together! Buggy doesn't really have any close relatives to go to, all his friends went home, and thinks that Shanks is the same way, because why else would he stay behind with him?

Shanks is just so happy that he can finally be with his boyfriend. He makes hot cocoa (and it's horrible, but Buggy remakes it), he buys a cardboard cutout of a Christmas tree and they put stickers on it instead of decorations. At one point they start printing out memes and pictures of themselves and stick them on there as well. (Shanks secretly writes a wish, something cheesey like how he wants them to be like this for the rest of their lives, on the back of some of the photos)

In all reality, I believe that "Die Hard" and "Home Alone" (because these two franchises are basically the same, just one is kid coded lol) would be both Shanks and Buggy's favourites. I mean look at how they turned out ahahaha tho I must confess, I've never seen Gremlins, so I'll just trust you on that one':)

I also think thay Buggy would get horrible gifts very purposefully. Like he would look for hours to find the most raggedy and washed out looking sweater with the ugliest print of like... a green cow on red mars with a Christmas hat on both the cow and mars saying "moo-ry christmas" in comic sans or something horrifying like that. Like that one video of the guy who bought a card for the wrong occasion, for wrote a message to someone else and scratched out the name to look like it was a second hand card. I couldn't find the og video but I found this tiktok, hope it helps with the explanation.

In my mind Buggy thinks it's hilarious. Him and Shanks both love pranks and just jokes like this in general, so he would get it, right? Shanks liking it unironically wasn't in the plan. But then bad comes to worse and Shanks takes gift giving seriously - Buggy is caught off guard.

I love the image of Shanks standing in the cosmetics section of a big store that was one of the best according to google. He's just staring intensely, and color checking, and googling, and staring again - trying his best to remember everything Buggy had told him about make-up.

At some moment in the time he's searching, one of the workers there goes up to him to see if he needs help thinking "aw, poor lost man looking for something for his girlfriend, he looks like he needs help" and then Shanks shows her a picture of an honest to God clown going "I want the best for my boyfriend". And they have a little "This is your man?" "yeah" "Look at the picture" "that's mine :')" "and you're ok with this?" "imma stick beside him " moment. And then they just start looking together. Before they notice it's a whole horde of helpers and Shanks going all, "is that teal? I think he said he loves teal, but not one with glitter, wait, bring back the cherry red. Can you compare it to the sour cherry. Which one would match his lipstick best? This one's his favorite." and they're like a council, super invested at that point.

I also like to think that on new years eve, they're watching a marathon, and Buggy just falls asleep on Shanks's chest halfway through. He does that often and Shanks loves it. He doesn't even care that much that sometimes his make-up would be imprinted on his shirt .

Shanks showing love to Buggy's nose, despite his insecurities, makes me melt. (spoilers ig:) I was going to have a little dialogue/confrontation that portrayed that, but I was going to make it a "Shanks not caring about it and just acting like it's not there" thing, but him actually thinking it's cute and being all loving towards the one thing he's most insecure about is actually way better. I might utilize it later on lol :))

[thecyrulik]

Simon negotiates terms and conditions. Egon is inconvenienced.

Special shoutout to @whump-card for making me revisit this beloved story of mine. I am aware I am its main audience but it has a special place in my heart.

And to @oliversrarebooks bc their story made me think quite a lot about hypnosis and vampire glamour.

prev | masterlist

The Bargaining

Months had passed before he was finally able to do anything to regain some control over his life. In the meantime, he suffered from temporary weakness and headaches, sometimes stronger, sometimes barely there. He missed some days at work. Had some serious talks with his manager. Begged her to let him stay, promised to pull himself together even though he knew he had no way of keeping that promise. He had to deal with the worried looks of his coworkers, not only Maddie, but the rest of them too. They meant well, but they just couldn’t help him.

He considered going to sleep right after dinner, but he felt quite restless, as if something was about to happen. He kept himself busy, trying to catch up with some work, but eventually ending up reading a book about mental illnesses that Maddie gave to him. In some harsh, though well-meaning words she suggested that he should at least try to figure out what was wrong with him on his own, to make dealing with it easier. It didn’t exactly work but it was an interesting read anyway.

The window opened silently, but Simon felt the change in the air nonetheless. He raised his head immediately, a small part of him already knowing what he would see at the windowsill. The dark-haired man stood there, staring at him with an intensity that made Simon’s skin crawl, and he was perfectly still – so Simon decided to act on his own.

He stood up from the desk, keeping his eyes on the intruder and putting a bookmark between the pages before closing the book. Maybe I won’t get to finish it? Why bother with a bookmark?, he thought before he could stop himself. The vampire stood still as Simon straightened up and very carefully avoided looking at the closed door. Don’t be stupid, he told himself. If he could crawl up the walls and mess with his mind, there was zero chance of escaping whatever was to come.

Despite all that, Simon couldn’t help himself and took a short, nervous step backwards. He realized what he did; he stopped right away. The vampire hadn’t moved at all. Simon was flooded with all the memories he had been robbed of before; all kinds of feedings, the sudden ones, the fierce and quick ones, the oddly gentle ones. It had been going for quite some time, he realized. He was still alive, which was nice, if surprising, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be for long if this went on like this. Not because the vampire would kill him personally, it was just that Simon felt he just couldn’t go on like this anymore. He had to do something.

The monster finally made a move, seemingly pleased with Simon not running away. As if they didn’t both know he didn’t have a chance. He stood there watching, waiting, as the vampire slowly walked up to him and grabbed his chin with thumb and index finger. Simon suppressed a shiver, realizing that the gesture was familiar, that it had happened before. He wanted to scream, to beg, to run away, almost overwhelmed with memories and the fear they brought up. He couldn’t utter a word. The vampire watched him curiously before tilting his head slightly to the side and burying his fangs in Simon’s flesh. 

Simon gasped. The pain was sharp and short. All the muscles in his body tensed as agony went through him, then left. He was flooded with that odd sensation that felt like being wrapped in cotton, or something else soft, warm but strange. The blood flew away from him and the vampire’s body was getting warmer bit by bit. Simon raised his slightly shaky hands to the vampire’s chest. He wasn’t really trying to push him away but he wanted to be able to do it anyway. The blood drinker ignored that, slowly draining him while still keeping a hold on his jaw, gentle but firm.

A long moment had passed before Simon realized that even though the vampire still held him by the chin, he had already pulled his fangs out of his neck. He also noticed with some surprise he was now shivering terribly, uncontrollably, almost painfully. He let out a choked gasp, dizzy with terror, confusion and desperation. The vampire pulled his chin up after a little while, making him look into his eyes. The rest of the puzzle pieces fell into place in Simon’s mind.

“No!” he blurted out, trying and failing to step back. He kept his eyes closed. The hand on his jaw tightened a little. He swallowed and took a deep breath, then opened his eyes, carefully avoiding the vampire’s piercing gaze. That was his chance and it might have been the only one he’d ever get.

“Please, please don’t do that! I swear I won’t tell anyone about you, or-or try to hurt you, but I just… I can’t go on like this,” he paused, risking a quick glance at the vampire’s unchanging face. Okay. He wasn’t furious yet. Time to keep going.

“Please don’t do this to my head anymore. Every time you do it, I can barely function for a couple of days afterwards, and I can’t lose my job, but I will if you keep doing this, so p-please, just don’t do that… I promise I won’t do anything to harm you, I just can’t go on, I can’t, can’t, please-” he almost sobbed, his fear and exhaustion getting the better of him.

“Very well,” said the vampire after a short while, his voice almost too neutral and devoid of emotion. “We’ll do something different. Look at me, human.”

Simon tried very hard to oppose that command, but in the end, he still looked up, staring straight into the blood drinker’s cold eyes. A sense of failure and hopelessness flooded him as those terrible eyes bore straight into his very soul and he felt tendrils of power wrapping themselves tightly around his conscious mind. At least I tried something, he thought as he was drifting away, barely able to stand with the vampire’s help.

***

The human surprised him that night. First of all, he shouldn’t have been able to remember the previous feedings, even in the vampire’s presence when the parts of the previous glamours could be accidentally lifted. Even more so he shouldn’t be able to oppose him like that. A thoughtless flinch, yes, a blind attempt to run away, or to fight him back - it all happened from time to time, but this? This was thought through, meaning the boy had some level of understanding of what was happening to him, even between their meetings. This could be dangerous, to let such a human roam free. Egon should either kill him or at the very least wipe him clean and never come back. But… as much as he didn’t like to admit it, he grew accustomed to those feedings, the way the human tasted and acted, his quiet acceptance. It was pleasant, in a way, not to worry about fighting, hunting or paying for sustenance. 

After a short while, he decided. Yes, he’d keep the boy alive. It might be a risk, but a small one, especially since the young human didn’t seem like he could be a threat to anyone, let alone a vampire. He would have to take precautions and, apparently, take what the human asked him into consideration; that is if he wanted him to last long-term. It was all manageable, if slightly cumbersome. He could do it without any issue really, his job often forced him to inconvenience himself more for less.

The boy shivered under his touch and stared at him with terror mixed with exhaustion. Well, no need to scare the human any further, he thought and got to work, driving his will into the mortal’s mind.

taglist: @hold-him-down @afrosarah @whumpy-writings @spookyceph @neverthelass and @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night just this once so they try it out

[xf-cases-solved]

S1E9: Space

Case: Mulder's astronaut hero is being possessed by a space ghost that is causing him to withhold evidence of sabotage involving space shuttles. It is implied that he could have stopped the Challenger explosion. Sure. Meanwhile, badass Mission Control leader lady who I'm sure had a name just wants her fiance to get back to Earth safely, which is looking less and less likely as the astronauts on the shuttle are having a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day. Vague and repetitive flashbacks are utilized. Mulder is a fangirl. I get bored halfway through and get on my phone. Hooray!

Does someone die in the cold open: I literally just finished this episode like five minutes ago, and I want to say no—like, I'm 97% certain it's a no—but I don't remember definitively and I have no desire to go back to that episode again to check.

Does Mulder present a slideshow: No, he was recruited into this case. No time for slideshows.

Does the evidence survive the investigation: I genuinely don't think they really had any concrete "evidence" of anything in the first place. I think they kept a couple X-rays, but there's no way they would ever hold up in a court of law.

Whodunit: Original series Star Trek-ass space ghost. I think.

Convictions: Nah, only person they could have maaaaybe scraped together the weakest case for threw himself out the window to escape the space ghost, so none needed.

Did they solve it: Maybe. Mulder has a guess, but he'll never be able to prove it, and ofc Scully doesn't believe it at all. Dunno where space ghost went. Maybe they're still out there looking for their next host. If they are, I hope we don't have to ever watch another episode of television about them.

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: Space ghosts. Moon's haunted. Get your gun.

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 3 (easy come, easy go)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, it's me" phone calls: 1

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 3

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 2

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 3

Total Number of Sexually Charged and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 5 (91% of their interactions in this episode were Mulder explaining space travel lingo to her as a very obvious way to tell the audience what was going on, so there was no time for flirting :( )

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 1

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 4

Total Number of Nosebleeds: 4

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 2

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 0 :(

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 2 (they said it many, many, many times)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 1 (i made myself pay just enough attention to figure out the plot and the ending—bc, gun to my head, i would not have been able to tell you anything about that episode before today—so i saved myself a trip to wikipedia. that being said, i did not enjoy myself, and am already mentally preparing myself for the suffering that's going to happen next season when i'm forced to watch "3")

[fickleminder]

Omg, thank you for being interested in my little plot bunnies! TYSCATDSC was literally so good, it was impossible for me not to run with it. It's rife with so much possibility, it made me think of all the different ways MC and the brothers could have reunited, what they would have to do to mend their relationship after the fact, MC and Lilith bonding time, it's just. An amazing fic. The plot, the characterization, everything.

I too am (obviously, I guess) a sucker for MC whump. We rarely get it in game, so we have to do it ourselves. I have started writing the “good ending” version with my MC, so if it’s okay with you, I might post the MC survives!version once I finish it?

The “bad ending” where MC doesn’t survive is something I started, but I'm not sure if I'll ever finish. I will say it was Solomon who found out about MC’s death first. 2ish years after the end of the exchange program, a friend of his overhears some hunter bragging about killing the “master of the 7 avatars of sin”. He goes back to MC’s hometown to try to track them down, and winds up hearing about an unidentified body being found in the woods like a year earlier. The witch hunters essentially cut them off from using their pacts (so Satan never knew what happened to them either), tortured and destroyed their soul before leaving them in the woods. MC is just gone forever, and the way I planned the rest of the plot, it’s all the characters reacting to the fact that their soul was literally wiped from the world and no one noticed. Not the angels, not the demons, not even the humans. They died suffering and alone, their body wasn’t found for almost a full year after they died, and they were buried in an unmarked grave until Solomon came by, by chance. I hurt my own feelings writing that one and I may or may not finish it one day, but it would be a tough one for me to continue.

As for the NB headcanons, have u ever listened to The Alcott by The National and Taylor Swift? Bc there’s this whole part that Taylor sings in the chorus and it goes like “tell me which side are you on, dear? / give me some tips to forget you / could it be easy, this once? / I think I'm falling back in love with you” and that is like. The whole vibe I was working with here. Honestly, the whole song was a vibe. I think NB would happen maybe a few years after the exchange program ends. MC has gotten used to being without the brothers (minus Satan, who they are able to see every few months, when he can get away from his responsibilities) when they are sent back in time, again. NB happens same as usual, except now MC has to deal with unresolved (romantic?) feelings for the brothers who now do not know them, and their only solace (Satan) is a blank slate and rife with resentment and violent rage. I think Solomon would still come to help them, but I imagine him in a more antagonistic role; in this version of NB, I see Solomon taking advantage of MC’s broken heart and loneliness and trying to sway them to his (humanity’s) side, maybe try and get them to fall in love with him instead.

Meanwhile, in the present day, Barbatos invites the Morningstars over for tea and casually mentions that the human who held all of their pacts has been unceremoniously chucked into the past by an unknown (?) entity. That’s all I have until more lessons come out, but I love to think of all the extra angst putting TYSCATDSC!MC into the NB universe causes. Knowing the brothers intimately while they know nothing whatsoever; watching them grieve Lilith and being unable to tell them they get her back one day; going through the motions knowing that another goodbye is inevitable; torn between not wanting to get close again, and being helpless to the feelings that always seem to come around when it comes to these brothers.

I'd be 100% down to read the MC survives!version first! As much as I'm a sucker for whump, I like happy endings too!! Do take your time, and please tag me when you post it 🙏🏻

That bad ending tho, holy shit. It hurts so good omg thank you for feeding us such delicious angst!! It really encapsulates the replaced!AU so well, the way MC is just lost to them (be it by their own neglect or external forces) and they can't do anything about it until it's way too late. I totally understand if you don't finish that one; my heart aches just reading what you have so far 🥲

And I love those lyrics for the NB headcanons! MC's entire support system is just gone, and I'm super intrigued by the sus!Solomon subplot you got there. As for the brothers... oof. Imagine being reminded of the one family member they neglected for years, only to be told that they've been lost in time. MC isn't dead (at least for now), but there's no way the brothers can get to them either. They must be going insane with all the worry and guilt.

I'm holding off writing too deeply for NB myself cus we're relatively early into the story so I wanna see where it goes first, but poor MC's really getting the short end of the stick no matter what eh? Anyway, thank you for sharing more on your ideas! I'll be in the back cheering you on and sending you all the good writing mojo 💪🏻

[johnbly]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by the @boltlightning the myth the legend

1. how many total works do you have on ao3? 31

2. what’s your total ao3 word count? 137,304

3. what fandoms do you write for? mostly potc, but i did toss out that one roland fic the other day. also at some point hornblower and his dragon will be published. i promise bolt. i will not abandon justinian. he also likely wouldn't allow me to anyways. he is likely just outside my window at this very second

(putting it the rest under a cut as this is a bit long)

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

a birthday dinner for two (tears of themis)

i would do it again (tot)

partners in everything (tot)

party in the mansion (fe3h)

learning to trust (fe3h)

of the five, learning to trust is definitely my favorite and the one that i think actually deserves the kudos. like not that the others are bad but tot is up there because of fandom popularity and then the other 3h once was for an exchange

5. do you respond to comments? usually!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i was gonna put one of the potc fics here but it feels more bittersweet than angsty so i'll return to my hubert and edelgard pov azure moon fic that i remembered from last time (our paths end here)

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i'm p sure last time i did this one i did one of my tot fics which makes sense bc they're basically the only happy ones but i don't think i'd published this one yet? who knows. anyways partners in everything

8. do you get hate on fics? thankfully no but i did get a somewhat rude one that one time

9. do you write smut? only fade to black here and i don't think i've ever posted any of that anyways. don't hold your breath on this changing but also if you're following me expecting that kind of content to begin with you are. in the wrong place

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written? i don't usually but i have done hockey aus for two separate fandoms (3h & pb) so there's that. i wouldn't consider that too crazy though

11. have you had a fic stolen? / 12. have you had a fic translated? / 13. have you ever co-written a fic? keeping these stuck together with a no for me as well. i did do a back and forth writing thing with a former friend but that was for a personal project

14. what's your all-time favorite ship? i am not really a big shipper! i went through my charmed tag the other day so i guess i can say piper/leo bc i was very into them when i was watching. if we can extend ship to being not necessarily romantic then we all know that The Horny Lads have rewritten my brain

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? great question! i can't think of any bc if i don't think i'll ever finish a wip i likely. don't want to finish it

16. what are your writing strengths? i'm good with dialogue especially banter and since i refuse to write fics where i can't get into the head of the pov character i'd like to think my characterization is solid

17. what are your writing weaknesses? society if i could describe things without suffering. i will blame the aphantasia

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i'm not sure i've given it much thought since i haven't done it before. i'd def be scared of messing something up

19. first fandom you wrote for? my first ao3 fic was for pb but i know i did fics before that. i'm gonna guess hp since that was my first fandom

20. favorite fic you've written? look i have to hype this fic up bc it has an audience of like five people but i put a lot of love and time into my fernand character study (the fallen knight)

i tag @writingbyricochet (not sure how much fanfic/ao3 you do since your blog is mostly original worksso feel free to ignore this/adapt as needed) and @philcoulsonismyhero and whoever else wants to do this!

[imanes]

hey imane, this is such a dumb question but inshallah you will not hate me for it: how do you not want to die when you go to the gym.... i want to improve my health and my parents doomed me to live in the north where the weather is terrible for most of the year, so the gym feels like my best option, but exercise itself is so painful and sweaty and i have never felt this "high" that people talk about getting from exercise! i would appreciate any advice at all! also i finally caught up on demon slayer because of you, it was so good (should i read the manga?) ☆

naaur it's not a dumb question on the contrary!! I've been struggling with keeping up with going to the gym or just exercising in general because it feels like a task to be done rather than something that gives me a high or something so i totally feel you. i do like moving around and feeling like i'm getting stronger (i mostly lift weight + light cardio) but idk about that mental boost people talk about either lmao.

i can only speak from my perspective so my goal at the moment isn't even to do the most at the gym and get me into shape in a month or something, I'm literally just trying to build the habit of going to the gym. heading there is a struggle too so i have to put myself in automatic mode and go no question asked. i also tell my friend to hold me accountable so i send them a pic where i get there otherwise I've given them license to punch me in the arm lmao.

another thing that helped me is switching gyms to go to one that is bright, well lit, spacious, and never overcrowded. i used to go to a cheaper one and i was pretty regular but i just haaaaated the place so much it was dank dark musty crusty ew ew ew.

having an idea of the workout you wanna do is also important once you get there so you can just go through your workout like a checklist and then head out after a good stretch! I'm getting back into the swing of things so I'm watching beginner videos from naomi kong on youtube, she really doesn't overdo it and outside of my own self-mandated light cardio warm-up (cycling) and finisher (inclined walk on the treadmill) it really didn't break a sweat.

so yeah to build the habit of just doing it, i am actually going everyday until i feel like i can trust myself with doing it every other day. mind you i don't do a "real" workout every day, i actually did a full body three days ago, just light cardio for 30 minutes yesterday to get my limbs moving and my blood pumping, and today was leg day. I'm gonna go tomorrow for a swim i think just to switch up the way i do my cardio and then on Monday it's gonna be upper body day and I'll probably follow another naomi kong beginner's guide to the gym.

so my tips for consistency and learning to like going to the gym:

go as many times as possible during the week just to make you used to going there

don't do big workouts!! your body doesn't need to go into failure every time. my legs used to shake like i was a newborn fawn bc i was following my friend's workout routine and it was not sustainable mentally for me lol. i just do my reps with lower weights than i used to just to get my body used to the movements and to make my mind disassociate "working out" with "sweating and suffering". it's like pavlov lol positive reinforcement is key

switch up your workouts so that it feels fresh! what i did today for leg day isn't what I'm gonna be doing for my next leg day for example bc i get bored easily

speaking of getting bored easily usually i either watch a bunch of youtube videos, listen to podcasts, read a book on my phone, or switch to an audiobook when my hands are busy because otherwise my mind wanders and i want to leave from being bored out of my mind. however today i did have a lot on my mind so i ended up listening to newjeans songs they have the perfect beat for working out

if your gym offers collective classes try one out! suffering together makes the pain easier to bear <3 that used to be what got me through english boxing classes years ago when i used to go... my objective is actually to go back to boxing classes (this time muay thai i think) by the end of the year and then the gym every other day or something for weight lifting, swimming, or a class of pilates or dance or smt that sounds fun

ok that was a really long answer lmao i'm also at the beginning of a journey that i hope will be consistent and sustainable!! i hope we can motivate each other out as northern country dwellers who have to contend with the wind the rain and the snow <3 also yaaaaay I'm so happy you watched demon slayer! and YES read the manga, the next arc is chill and cute but what follows... if you don't binge it all til the end i'd be surprised but also that'd mean you're much stronger than me which is a good thing if you can apply it to going to the gym as well akjfdklgj anyway good luck keep me updated babe insha'Allah we can do it!!

[sixohsixoheightfourtwo]

HELP i forgot i had in my drafts the dreadful stream of consciousness that's behind the cut - slightly out of date supplementary material for this meme days WEEKS ago tagged by @brofisting and @phneltwrites. re. the question 'what are you watching'. MDL list expounded on after the jump

Boys Over Flowers - the Korean version from 2009 - I started watching this ages ago on netflix and have been stalled about halfway through for MONTHS. It's good for learning about wild problematic old shojo tropes - some of which resurface in bl drama obv, it IS interesting to make the comparison. And I wanted to see another version of this story other than F4 Thailand (which i really liked). Unfortunately BOF 2009 eps are long and big chunks of them are....... . bad....... or just very slow ... SAVE me from the interminable episode(s) where they all go on holiday to the maldives . and the one where they race horses. (it's not just that it's 'old' bc Coffee Prince is pristine perfection and that was made in 2007!)

Fish Upon The Sky - so THIS i have now actually finished. I know this series is fairly divisive - I know a lot of people REALLY did not enjoy it - in particular seems like didn't like the characters. personally i - mostly - Really enjoyed this*... people will say 'pi is annoying!' and to this i say YES and that's why i love him. I Love the totally deranged turned-up-to-eleven romcom plotting i love that he somehow managed to kiss the WRONG BOY in the club.... I love that he's SO determined to pursue the boy he (THINKS HE!) likes - I love the moment when you THINK he's finally going to be honest w himself only to DOUBLE DOWN! on his mission. I love the pseudo-date with mork where he gets drunk and checks his TEETH. he's a classic stubborn misguided romcom lead and i Enjoy that phuwin makes this characterisation quite extreme, there's a kind of reservoir of anguish behind it all that sharpens up the whole series. and pond is clearly Not the most experienced actor but also genuinely great at looking totally whipped.

crash landing on you - I am something like five or six or seven eps into this and going slowly bc I'm watching with someone else. what can i say. it is Thee het kdrama of recent years! it's fantastic

Devil Judge - I began this AGES ago but again I am stalled a few eps in. I started it bc people kept mentioning it in the same breath as Beyond Evil and it was obviously u know . Homoerotic. Tick!! Unfortunately for me it suffers by comparison to BE, it currently just seems ... sillier ...... The homoerotic stuff is much more textual which should be a plus but I am simply not enjoying the Flavour as much.

Enchante - i am Giving ForceBook A Chance bc 1. they're going to be in Only Friends, 2. I Dooo like the look of their next series, the office one. I am 7 eps in and it still feels very VERY slight - I kind of don't really GET it. is there really much to get. But FB doooo have nice chemistry. Fond and easy! For some reason I keep thinking of old hollywood when I try to pin them down mentally. like. Fred and Ginger in this scene. this is forcebook in enchante. TO ME

my school president - I am behind on this (boo). it IS very sweet, I think I am not QUITE as into it as some people on bl tumblr (blblr??) - I can definitely get put off things if they get too nice and too sweet and the first few eps kind of .. felt like that might happen. but ep 6 was an absolute banger, v strong episode, v well structured. Also I often struggle with side pairings but I think the side pair here are really well done.

the warp effect - WACKY WHOLESOME FUN. what if thirteen going on thirty was eighteen going on twenty-eight and also was a boy and also was kind of like netflix's sex education. jojo killing it. Silvy killing it! Fluke Pusit killing it! I have no particular attachment to New as an actor and i guess i ... am less interested in him actually solving the mystery than I am in Every other character & storyline in this series. inc. the most whimsical depiction of puppy play u will probably ever see. And casual nbd trans inclusion of a kind Thailand can do really well.

never let me go - it took me the first couple of eps to fully warm up to this and I think ep 1 is possibly better on a second viewing - the ambiguity to palm and nueng's interactions is maybe better served by knowing the end-of-ep reveal that palm has already been assigned to look after nueng. and I Really enjoy the fleshing-out of the class division between them, the breakfast scene, palm's dad saying that PALM has to enforce the division between them. (If I think about Cutie Pie and Kinnporsche, which both dealt with Rich People - they just didn't focus much on the class stuff. Or handwaved it. And porsche was fully merlin'ing every job anyway. Anyway I appreciate what NLMG is doing w this) the awful situation at school - nueng getting bullied BECAUSE he's rich - feels very plausible. the business side of things feels sketched in enough for me to believe it. The romance side of things - I LIKE that it has built up so carefully. it has not been... crazy stuff from the start it's been all significant staring and not knowing how to behave around each other. Fear and nervousness and ambiguity and not Saying anything. it's like a helenish fanfiction. The wholllleeeee show feels so fraught so foreboding - everyone so trapped - heart in my MOUTH whenever I watch it. Ofc I fear for them!! But also I have a level of trust that whatever happens will be well done. OH yeah also perth and chimon REALLY good in their support roles. perth especially doing an incredible performance of 'boy who's about to throw up out of jealousy'

MIDNIGHT MOTEL. offjan supremacy ... pragmatic approach to sex work... neolouis!!! .... For plot function reasons I can see why the thing they make has to be an app but they appear to be using iphones & I do think that apple would not approve an app to go on the appstore that was for buying sex from sex workers. THAT aside. it's fiction whatever. . I feel like it would have made a really neat little movie if it was a bit more sharply written and was condensed down a bit. it's fun it's fine I enjoy it

[lesbiangallagher]

Fandom tag!! thank u for tagging me @suchagallabitch 🥰

Your First Fandom(s): i wasn’t going to do this but fuck it, here’s all the fandoms i remember being in: south park, left 4 dead, pokemon, homestuck, the book of mormon, les mis, the lorax, camp lazlo, one direction, shameless us (there’s more but i do not remember currently)

How did you first get into fandom? i liked writing self insert fic and i used to spend hours on youtube watching AMVs to like, bullet for my valentine in 2007 lol i found ffnet and deviantart soon after and the rest is history!

How long have you been engaging with fandom spaces? 2007 so officially 16 years. i was 11 reading south park yaoi

How often do you read fanfics? i open ao3 every single morning to see if any of my favorite wips have been updated. i love wips, i used to not read them bc i was always afraid the writer would abandon it but now i’ll read absolutely anything. i love the journey of reading wips now. it’s like my morning newspaper

Top 3 characters from your current fandom(s): mickey milkovich, ian gallagher, and now retsuko from aggretsuko…i feel like i am in no fandom rn, just passin by. i’m like the old man that lives on the edge of town who still comes to the street events

Have you ever written a fic for a fandom? yeah i’ve written a bunch of drabbles on my blog and uploaded two finished works, both one shots for the spicy gallavich collab 2021 and 2022…i am particularly proud of this year’s spicy fic. somehow reached 11k words and it’s about lesbians mickey and ian 💃 search lesbiangallagher on ao3. but in the past i feel like i’ve written at least one fic for every fandom i’ve been in…and i’ve been in a LOT of fandoms lol but they’re all on my old blog that only og rocco fans know about

Have you ever drawn fanart for a fandom? if so, shout it out! nah i’ve never been a fanart type of creator. i’m sure i’ve drawn characters jokingly or something

Share a personal headcanon that you feel very strongly about: since 2014, i have a HARD and STRONG headcanon that mickey is a trans dude

You're trying to convince a friend to get into your current fandom(s) with you. what episode, clip, or scene are you showing them? i don’t want anyone to get on the shameless US train because it was a whole lot of suffering but if i had to: the episode where they steal the meat from the meat truck. for aggretsuko: the episode where ton and retsuko go at it at karaoke

And finally, what does fandom mean to you? it’s always been an ~escape~ for me, where all my unhinged thoughts are welcome. i’ve seen just about everything at this point, but i still love the idea of community who bond over One niche thing

SECOND TAG ok slay!!!

name: rocco

age: i’ll be 27 in may 😵‍💫

Where in the world are you? georgia, us of a

The meaning behind your URL: i’m lesbian ian gallagher

Your second favourite color: i guess it’s orangey yellow

any pets? my cat, minky and two birds merlin and mulder

favourite season? fall

Last thing you read: new update of dead meet🫣

Last song you listened to: lavender haze by miss swift

What are you wearing right now? black skeleton dress and cooking apron

A hobby of yours: i read a LOT, i’ll read practically anything lol. now that i have a new glasses prescription, i feel invincible

and finally, what are you up to today? currently making breakfast and getting ready for vacation this week 😗

i don’t know who’s all been tagged but feel free to do this!! i am always reminded of myspace with these lol

[ginsoakedgirl80]

dramas I watched in 2022

The Legendary Life of Queen Lau (2022, my first cdrama, damn the ppl who brought this one down, will probably rewatch because now I get more about the cdrama tropes they subvert, Li Jiaqi hopefully will get more main roles despite this debacle)

Love Between Fairy and Devil (2022, tumblr loves it for good reason, so good, well written and gorgeous costumes and scenery, I laughed, I cried, I shaked my fist at communication failures, learned to like Yu Shuxin's voice, who doesn't like a story about a demon lord who lost all his emotions and regains them with the help of a cute fairy, cultivation in several senses xD, some songs made it to my spotify 100 most played songs of 2022 list, will rewatch now that it is on Netflix)

Word of Honor (2021, the hype has a reason it is so goood, started out not liking WKX, how the tables turned, hahahaha, side characters who rock, morally grey main characters yay, "A'Shuuuu", you don't need on screen kisses to feel the love, character dump was confusing as hell, somehow missed that WKX is also boss of Ghost Valley in the beginning bc of that. 🤣🙈 Taught me to rewatch the first episode a little bit into the drama to actually get what's going on when there are a lot of characters.)

Old Fashion Cupcake (2022, my first jdrama, cute office romance about finding joy in life again, will make you hungry)

The Rational Life (2021, watch it if you want soft, caring, loyal WH but it is actually about Qin Lan's character overcoming bullying at work and being a model employee in a car company (and promoting e-cars 😄), could have been shorter)

The Blue Whisper (2022, wrecked me with all the suffering but so good and pretty, Ren Jialun going from cutiepie to badass, rocking his ear jewellery, red flags but you ship them anyway, Diliraba and Guo Xiao Ting, another talk it out already yelling at the screen drama, going from hating SML and his attendand to pitying them, LuoLuo 🫶, side characters you will root for, some songs made it to my spotify 100 most played songs of 2022 list, story is by the author who wrote LbFaD, not set in the same universe)

The Romance of Tiger and Rose (2020, Zhao Lusi the Queen, much needed comedy after TBW, loved it, nothing like a writer caught in her own badly written drama world trying to rewrite it while the rules of the world she wrote fight against the rewrites. Su Mu and First Lady just needed to talk to each other aaaargh)

Who rules the World (2022, find yourself a person who looks at you like Hei Fengxi looks at Bai Fengxi, geez Yang Yang, Zhao Lusi is a delight in this, they wrote the two lead characters too perfect??, draws you in with wuxia, gives you a lot of palace drama, including emo first prince who deserved more screen time but they ran out of ideas for him, Writing, editing and fight scenes got worse in the 2nd half of the drama, I guess because the director had to leave, needed to give more side characters a life, the sismance is perfect)

The Untamed (2019, watching to be finished in 2023, I was intimidated by the amount of characters and episodes so only started watching late in the year and am glad I waited because now I know wuxia storytelling better and can fully enjoy it, taught me that you don't need great cgi, sets or fight scenes to tell a compelling story, Wang Yibo 🥹, Xiao Zhan 😼, great side characters)

Semantic Error (2022, my first kdrama, watched it because of this and was not disappointed, enemies to lovers at university, cute quick watch)

The Blood of Youth (2022/2023, just started, the character dump is a lot but it is a romp so far, despite the kinda choppy writing/editing, also geez Youku those youtube subtitles are too fast for my tired eyes)

As someone who enjoys series/movies like the UK North and South, Persuasion, Pride and Prejudice, etc, where a small touch or little gestures can already be a big deal, slow burn romances in cdrama fit me perfectly. (The barbie kisses are something to get used to though. Props to Wang Hedi and Yu Shuxin who went for organic kisses once the feelings hit their characters.)

(and as someone who likes men with long hair 🤣)

Thanks to my friend B who got me into cdrama. 💕

[urlocalterrorist]

Henlo, Henlo Tumblr!!!

I am new to Tumblr, and i just wanna make a few things clear before i officially open requests.

*khm khm*

Character i write for:

Every demon slayer character! You can also request me some oc x character if you want to ofc!

Thing that you can request from me:

Everything that is sfw!

Platonic relationships! (for example: child, teen, adopted, adopted sibling!reader x character. just. platonic.)

Do you like any Au? Me to! And i will write sum. As long as nothing goes... Khm that way. It's all fine!! ^^

You like Monster!Reader x Monster character? I like them to! Still theres one rule. No smut.

A TINY BIT of dark themes and against (just a little bit bc i have a sensitive soul and i don't think i'll be able to handle to much)

Any reader pronounce, or ✨💅homosexual💅✨relationships are welcome here :)

Yandere are also can be requested if the characters death are mentioned.

Thing that you CAN'T request from me:

Nsfw= NO

SA, Ed or any other mental health thing. No just. No. I don't wanna be mean, it's only bc i also suffer with a few mental health issues and i do NOT want to write about it. Exept if it's a comfort.

Charters death can only be MENTIONED.

Sibling x sibling. Are you guys out of your mind?

Steb sibling x Steb parent, steb sibling x steb sibling= no. I am not willing to write the steb bro meme. Or the steb parent. Exept if it's platonic.

Animal abuse. No. Just. No.

Toxic relationships, and all the things that is count as abuse.

Pedophilia is also a big no

If you still try to request anything from above in my blogs, then the T-Cat Police Officers will found you and:

Current anons:

Nothing yet :c

Things about me!! ^^

I am a 13 years old minor, who loves to draw, write or just simply read! (if i won't forget to read the book i started)

I have some issues with my memory so if i forget about my blogs on tumbler, pls remind me!!

I love Mythical creatures, especially phoneixes, dragons, and half human half monster! (i also write for them *wink*)

I have a good imagination, and fantasy! You could request me any thing that is legal on my blog! I love the color red and i read the manga till Muzan's death.

I love animals, and i also love nature! I love cats, and tea. Jet i don't have a pet but i will try to convents my parents buy me a pet! Hopefully they will believe me that i can take care of a cat while i am going to school everyday!

I live in Eastern Europe so that means i am not english if i write something wrong feel free to correct me but pls don't judge me pls. I am studying in a Christian Gymnasium, i just started 7th grade with my new class and i am happy to be there!

I love video games, especially survival, story games (where you can have your own ending) and adventure games! My favorite game so far is ARK survival evolved, and The long dark.

I also like anime! Or just simply watching series!

Requests time, how much i (would like to) post a day/week?

Around 1.30 pm i finish school and then i can take requests, or maybe in between classes, i can answer a few questions ar write head canons!

How much time will it take for me to write a bolg? - i have no idea.

Mesterlist

This blog always ganna chance so make sure you always check this blog. That's all i think have a nice day/night/evening! ♡