#i don’t see the point in blocking them if they can produce other fics that interest me 🤷‍♀️

[rinnsverse]

i just want one day where i don’t see the same five fics over and over again in every tag i check LIKE PLEASE 🙏🙏 I NEED NEW CONTENT

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 122]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54

Not going to do much this morning because I only have an hour or so. I may do more later today however.

Chapter 55 (Logan)

Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.

Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.

Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce more and more quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.

“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.

“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.

Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.

The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.

After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.

“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”

“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.

“For what?”

Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”

“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.

Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”

Virgil stepped out of his way so he could study the page. “Yes,” Logan said after scanning through all of the ingredients. “I think cardamom would work for something like that. Let me go find some.”

He turned to walk towards where he kept his supplies of potion ingredients. Virgil followed on his heals.

“Can we use a serrated knife?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, Virgil,” Logan said, nodding as he searched through the cupboard that should hold the coriander. “The knife being serrated would help keep the potion stuck to the blade after many uses and would increase the surface area.”

“That was certainly my intention,” Virgil said smoothly. There was something odd about the tone that had Logan turning and blinking at him. Virgil just smiled at him innocently and Logan turned back to the cabinet finally locating the cardamom.

“So how are we going to use that?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll put it in right before the last step and let it sit for about 3 minutes,” Logan said. “If it doesn’t quite work, we may need to make another batch. There are options other than cardamom, but that’s the first idea that comes to mind and it’s a lot simpler if it works.”

He continued to speak of the many other options they could try as they returned to the caldron as well as how they could test the hot knife. It was already about time for the next step and Virgil did it without interrupting Logan’s rant.

Virgil listened to his suggestions with interest all while still making sure the potion he was making was progressing well.

Logan did eventually take over to finish the potion with the revised steps he’d come up with and they ended up with a potion that looked perfect except it was a few shades darker than the one they’d originally been planning to make.

“Well, it looks good,” Logan declared. “We will need to acquire a knife to test its effectiveness, however.”

“There are a few good ones in the kitchen,” Virgil pointed out. “I especially like the one 10 inch one with the black and white handle.”

“You have been eyeing up the kitchen knives?” Logan asked.

Virgil rolled his eyes as though that was not a perfectly reasonable question to ask him. “We should steal that one,” Virgil said.

“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak past Ms. Heart to steal a knife from her kitchen?” Logan asked.

“We can’t,” Virgil said. The ‘but I can’ was implied.

Logan almost didn’t believe him… and then he remembered the water pouch incident. “It’s the dinner rush,” Logan said. “We should probably wait for a bit.”

Virgil was shaking his head. “The dinner rush is the best time,” he said. “Everyone will be distracted, and all of the knives will be out and in prime stealing position.”

“And if Patton’s mother catches us messing around in her kitchen during her busiest time of day, she will have Father ground us for a week.”

“Then we just won’t get caught,” Virgil said.

“I’m not sure if it’s that simple,” Logan said with a frown.

“You can stay here if you want,” Virgil offered. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“No, I’ll come too,” Logan relented, though he did still have some reservations about the idea.

He let Virgil lead him towards the main dining hall. By now, Virgil knew the kitchens and dining hall very well.

“Stay here,” he said. They were in a hallway a few feet down from the staff entrance to the main kitchen. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.”

“What type of reconnaissance?” Logan asked, but Virgil had already vanished before his very eyes. With a blink, Logan looked up and saw a dark figure disappear onto a balcony overhead.

Well, Logan really had no choice but to wait there for him. It wasn’t like he could follow him. He could hear the clatter of silverware on plates from the dining hall down the corridor as he impatiently waited. It only took Virgil a bit over five minutes to return. He dropped suddenly from above and landed in front of Logan in a crouch.

“Well?” Logan asked, letting a bit of irritation into his tone so Virgil knew he was displeased. Virgil did not seem to care.

“Got it,” Virgil said with a wide grin, brandishing a large kitchen knife.

Logan flinched back at the unexpected sight of a weapon.

“You said you were doing reconnaissance!” he sputtered. “Not…” he trailed off remembering that while they weren’t in eyesight of anyone right now, they could be in earshot of someone. He lowered his tone, “stealing the knife already.”

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Virgil said with a shrug, “and then I used the information gathered by that reconnaissance to steal a knife.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at him.

Virgil just smiled. “You would have gotten in my way.”

“I would not have,” Logan insisted.

“How many times has Patton’s mom caught you stealing food from the kitchens in the past?” he asked.

Logan pursed his lips. “That is Patton’s doing,” he said.

“Sure,” Virgil said with an eyeroll. “I’ll have you prove it some other day, but for now,” he twirled the knife around in a way that made Logan cringe even though he did seem to have an expert handle over it. “We have a knife.”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a nod. “We should continue the experiment.”

Virgil stored the knife away… somewhere on his person, and they snuck back to Logan’s rooms.

When Virgil handed over the knife, Logan did have to admit it was a perfect specimen for their project: long and saw-like with a heatproof handle.

Logan carefully set it in a shallow dish and proceeded to pour the potion they’d made onto it. They let it sit for a little under half an hour before carefully pulling it out of the concoction with tongs and letting it airdry. Meanwhile, Virgil suggested they set up a testing area with various old sheets and clothing. They’d even found and decorated an armor stand with an old suit that Logan particularly disliked.

“Well,” Logan said once he’d tapped the handle and had not gotten burned by the potion. “I think we can test it now.” For safety, he made Virgil put on thick heatproof gloves before handing him the knife.

“So how do I make it work?” Virgil asked.

“The original potion works through light friction,” Logan said.

“So just start stabbing things?”

Logan went to respond, but before he could, Virgil had already twisted around and sliced through one of the sheets hanging in Logan’s potion room. There was a sizzling noise as the knife cut through the sheet like it was tissue paper leaving two aflame halves flapping about.

Logan leapt forward to tear the pieces of sheet down and the two of them stomped on the flames to put out the fire.

“It’s perfect,” Virgil said with a grin once the charred remains of the sheet were extinguished.

“It does seem to work as intended,” Logan agreed.

“Let’s do it again,” Virgil said.

“Er, well, perhaps we shouldn’t…,” Logan started, but Virgil had already set his eyes on the armor stand they’d set up. That suddenly seemed like not such a good idea to Logan.

He stabbed the armor stand viciously. It went up in violent flames. Logan’s eyes widened as the blaze only seemed to get bigger as Virgil drew back the knife.

Virgil did not seem to share Logan’s worry as he turned and stabbed another piece of hanging clothing, setting it ablaze as well.

“Virgil, no! You’re going to burn the room down!” Logan yelped.

The armor stand, at that very moment, decided to fall to the ground. They had, perhaps, not set the testing area up as well as they should have because it fell directly onto one of Logan’s rugs and set that on fire as well.

“Oops,” Virgil said, eyes wide.

Above the sound of crackling fire, Logan heard a tapping on the door between his bedroom and work room. It opened slightly after a moment and Logan’s father’s voice called out as he was sticking his head into the room, “Um, what do you mean Virgil… is burning the room down!”

The moment Logan’s father fully processed the presence of the flames, he was bursting into the room. He at least remembered that there was a fire extinguishing powder stocked in Logan’s work room even though that fact had slipped Logan’s mind in the chaos. (Perhaps Logan should have thought to set it out when they were testing a fire knife, but Logan would just add that to his growing list of regrets.)

The king managed to put all of the fires out within 30 seconds of poking his head through the door, but the fire left in his eyes when he turned to look at them afterwards was perhaps more dangerous.

Virgil slowly hid the knife behind his back. It was probably a bit late for that.

“What were the two of you doing in here?” the king asked.

“Nothing,” Logan said. Virgil shot him a look that told Logan what the boy thought about his lying abilities.

Logan’s father put his hands on his hips. “‘Nothing’ set the rug on fire?”

“We may have been doing a small experiment,” Logan said.

“What experiment?” the king asked.

“…I do not wish to say.”

“Logan.”

“Virgil wanted a fire knife.”

“A what?”

Virgil frowned over at Logan. “Your resistance to interrogation techniques is deplorable.”

Father turned to look at Virgil and obviously spotted the fact that Virgil was holding something behind his back.

“Give it here,” Father said, though his tone was a bit gentler with Virgil than it had been with Logan.

Virgil debated it for a moment, but then offered over the knife with a pout on his face. Father gingerly took it and the fire-resistant gloves from him. “Where did the two of you even get this knife?”

“You can’t tell her,” Logan said.

“You stole a knife from the kitchens?!” the king asked.

“We borrowed it,” Logan said.

“Can it be used for cooking anymore?”

“…Well.”

“In the intended manner.”

“No.”

“Then you stole it.”

Logan just frowned and looked away.

“I’m going to go put this in a secure location,” Father said, grimacing at the fire knife in his hands. “No more experiments for you two for a month. I’ll sic Patton on you.”

With that, he picked up what was left of the fire extinguishing powder (just in case) and turned to exit the room.

“Well,” Logan said once he was gone. “That was irresponsible.”

“I could steal it back from him.”

“N-no don’t do that.”

“I definitely could though,” Virgil said.

“I did not hear you say that,” Logan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I am not responsible for any more of your actions in this matter. I am going to the library.”

He walked out of the room then and Virgil followed him to the upstairs library. He said nothing more about the fire knife, but Logan would be a fool to suppose he forgot about it.

Chapter 56 (Thomas)

“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again.

The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again.

Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months.

While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members.

It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well.

Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now.

“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile.

“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.”

“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?”

“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.”

Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs.

So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them.

His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy.

Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total.

Virgil looked confused, but not unhappy about the presence of so many cats. He was leaning down to try to pet them all.

Logan met Thomas’s eyes as he approached and waved a frustrated hand at the two of them. Logan couldn’t help but smile.

“Virgil fed one of them,” Logan complained as though he wanted Thomas to somehow go into the past and prevent this crime.

Patton and Virgil looked over at Thomas, noticing him when Logan addressed him.

“You’re going to make Princess Marisol jealous,” Thomas said. Logan frowned at Thomas as he used the ‘Princess’ label for the cat.

“Princess Marisol decided not to come,” Virgil said with a shrug. He continued to pet one of the cats.

“She’s probably sleeping on my pillow,” Logan said, sounding grumpy.

Thomas just chuckled. Princess Marisol was technically Logan’s cat, at least that’s what the kids said, and she did spend much of her time in the royal rooms. However, she was very clearly actually Virgil’s cat. Virgil just spent a lot of time in the royal wing as well.

In fact, Thomas still didn’t know where Virgil was supposed to be sleeping. He and Mr. Deknis had actually tried to tail him a couple of times, but he always ended up sleeping in Logan’s room those nights.

Knowing Virgil, he might just sleep in the walls. Though that still did not answer the question of where his parents or guardians were. They still had not figured it out. Thomas would assume he was an orphan who’d snuck onto castle grounds for safety, but Virgil had told Mr. Deknis during their first meeting that he was supposed to be in the castle, and it had not been a lie.

Then again, it had slowly become apparent that Virgil was good at dodging the multrum’s powers. It was starting to seem more likely that he’d somehow inserted a second meaning into his answer to Mr. Deknis that night than he somehow had some ghost guardian no one was able to locate working in the castle.

“She deserves the pillow more than you,” Virgil said, bringing Thomas’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. The look of audacity on Logan’s face made Thomas chuckle.

Thomas cut in before it could become a fight. “I could get Princess Marisol a pillow, so she doesn’t sleep on yours. Or we can get you a new pillow if you’d prefer, Logan.”

“It’s not about the pillow for her,” Logan argued. “It’s about her inflated sense of superiority.”

“She deserves it,” Virgil declared. Thomas could tell he was just trying to rile Logan up, and Thomas was sure Logan knew it too, but still his son reacted exactly in the way Virgil wanted him to.

“You have enabled and encouraged this behavior from the start!” Logan seethed.

“She’s a Princess.”

“She is not a princess!”

Patton shook his head while squeezing the cats in his arms, completely used to this behavior at this point. He ran a chin idly over one of the cat’s heads while watching the argument.

“We’re never going to make it to the picnic at this rate,” Thomas said to him, “and after your mother made all of this wonderful food.”

“You’re the dad,” Patton said. “Make them stop.”

And, of course, Patton did just mean that he was Logan’s dad with that statement. However, when he glanced back up at the silly argument still going on between his son and the cat covered boy on the ground, it did almost look like a fight between siblings.

Especially with the dark hair and stubborn but mischievous look in Virgil’s eyes, Thomas could almost imagine the boy being his own child.

He shook away the thoughts and glanced at the picnic basket in his hand.

“We do have a lot of food in this basket,” Thomas said, pitching his voice up so that Logan (and more importantly) Virgil would hear them clearly.

Virgil immediately turned to look at him, abandoning all interest in antagonizing Logan to look at the basket curiously.

Thomas was never sure if he should be amused or worried about how food motivated Virgil often was.

“What’s in the basket?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “Patton’s mom made it. We’ll just have to see once we get to the picnic area.”

Virgil nodded in understanding and began to gently scoot all of the cats out of his lap. Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem inclined to continue the argument he’d been dragged into. Virgil and Patton got to their feet and they continued on their way towards the stables.

The horses Thomas had requested be prepared for their trip were already in saddles, though the stable hand who had been handling Mr. Apples seemed a bit dirtier and more exhausted than the rest.

The stable hand seemed as happy to hand Mr. Apples over to Virgil as Virgil was to have Mr. Apples handed over to him. Thomas received Bella with a smile and Logan and Patton got their own horses as well.

The Cliffs were about half an hour's ride from the main castle. There was a mostly well-maintained path to it, though it was easy to get lost if one didn’t know the way. Mr. Apples knew the way perhaps better than Thomas himself and seemed annoyed by the fact that Thomas was trying to lead the way.

Virgil and Thomas ended up side-by-side whenever the path allowed it to placate him.

He still marveled at how willing Mr. Apples was to let Virgil ride him, especially when he tossed his head in Thomas’s direction, a horse’s equivalent of giving Thomas a stink-eye.

“Are you excited for the picnic?” Thomas asked the boy beside him.

Virgil glanced over at him and nodded.

“I am too,” Thomas said. “It’s always beautiful this time of year. I’m glad I could find the time to take you all there this year.”

“Are you very busy?” Virgil asked curiously.

“I am king,” Thomas reminded, “and now that the world isn’t snowed in anymore things will be busy.”

“With the war?” Virgil asked.

Thomas paused for a few seconds. “Yes,” he confirmed. “With the war, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Virgil asked.

“You’re just a kid,” Thomas said.

“I’m 14,” Virgil said.

Thomas glanced at him. “Exactly,” he said, “a kid, and luckily, you’re in a place that can afford you the luxury of being one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The war has been mainly fought on Mocnejsi soil in recent years. Our boarders have held strong against invasions. Unless something goes horribly wrong suddenly, it would take a long time for the main conflict to get here. The only real threat in the castle would be assassins sent after me personally.”

“Right,” Virgil said. There was an awkward pause in conversation before he spoke again. “You’re winning the war then?” he asked.

“Something could always happen,” Thomas said, “but for the most part, yes, we have quite the advantage right now.”

“Oh,” Virgil said.

Thomas shook his head as they were coming up to a narrowing of the path. “Anyway, today is a day to not think about war. Today we’re going to have a lovely picnic and do some bird watching.”

“Right,” Virgil agreed from behind Thomas as Bella took the lead (to Mr. Apples discontent.)

When the path widened again, Thomas did his best to direct the topic to lighter subjects and soon they made it to The Cliffs.

Chapter 57 (Virgil)

Virgil had never been to a picnic. At least, that’s what Patton had informed him when Virgil had described his past experiences of eating outdoors. Logan had agreed even though he’d admitted that the definition of “picnic” was only eating a pre-packaged meal outdoors which Virgil had done plenty of times.

From what Virgil could tell, the main difference was just how much stuff one brought to a picnic.

In addition to the basket full of food (that Virgil still hadn’t gotten to look in yet), the king had brought a large soft quilt that he had Logan and Virgil spread out on the ground for them all to sit on.

Patton and Logan had also packed some things themselves to bring along. Logan had brought along a book to read, and Patton had brought along a board game (thankfully not checkers but something Virgil did not recognize). Virgil hadn’t brought anything (except for the fire knife he was definitely not supposed to have and was definitely not letting the king see) because he hadn’t known he was supposed to bring things. He wouldn’t have known what to bring anyway.

The blanket was soft and a much better alternative to sitting on the ground, especially because, while there was grass at the top of The Cliffs, there were also a good number of rocks.

The king set the picnic basket in the middle of the blanket once it was spread out and then lowered himself down to sit on one side. Patton quickly followed him, already fiddling with some of his board game pieces, though he wasn’t setting it up yet. Virgil highly doubted that Logan was going to be allowed to read his book unless Patton eventually got bored of the game.

However, they would, hopefully, be allowed to make use of the basket the king had brought along.

Virgil followed the king and Patton’s lead and got to his knees on the blanket across the picnic basket from the king. He peered at the basket curiously.

He didn’t quite know what picnic food was, but Patton had told them they’d be getting ‘picnic food’ and he was very curious about what that meant.

King Thomas smiled at him. “Let’s see what Patton’s mom packed us, huh?” He reached for the basket and flipped it open as Logan sat next to Virgil. “There is a lot more food than usual in here,” the king said, sounding amused. “Let’s see.”

He began to pull out packaged food and glanced in each package to identify it before setting it out.

“We have a few types of mini sandwiches,” he said, putting them down, “and some pasta salad.” He set down the bowl.

“We also have… er something else.” He showed it to Logan.

“They’re hot cauliflower bites,” Logan said instantly upon seeing them. Virgil perked up in excitement. That was one of his favorite foods.

“Ah,” King Thomas said, but shrugged and set it down. “We also have two desserts apparently: cookies and mini apple pies. That last one’s a bit extra for a picnic.”

“They’re very good,” Virgil said happily.

“And we also have.” King Thomas paused, looking confused. “Chicken alfredo?”

“Yes!” Virgil said.

“Why do we have chicken alfredo for a picnic?”

“It’s a Virgil picnic,” Logan groaned. “She packed us a Virgil picnic.”

“Hey, at least momma sent us something too,” Patton said.

“I think I’ll stick to sandwiches for today,” King Thomas said. He looked at Patton and Logan. “Do either of you want…?”

“No,” Logan said. Patton shook his head.

The king nodded and offered the entire covered bowl of chicken alfredo to Virgil. “Here, this one’s yours,” he said.

“Really?” Virgil asked tentatively. It wasn’t exactly strange for people here to offer him food, and he’d expected and anticipated getting to eat on this venture, but the king of the country offering him an entire bowl of his favorite food was something else.

“It’s not really my idea of a picnic food and you seem excited for it,” King Thomas said with a warm smile, still holding it out.

Virgil took it reverently. Despite the time it had taken to get to the cliffs, the bottom of the container was still warm. Virgil assumed it was one of the heating spells the kitchen sometimes used.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, setting it in his lap.

“Of course, Virgil,” the king said.

The bowl was enough for four people to have a little bit, but for one person it was a lot. Still, Virgil was offered a little of every other food in the picnic basket (and he ate a good number of the hot cauliflower bites).

“Where do you put all of that?” the king asked when Virgil finished polishing off the chicken alfredo bowl.

Everyone else seemed to have finished eating long before Virgil, though Patton still had a small plate of grapes, and he occasionally popped one in his mouth. King Thomas was currently setting up the board game they’d brought on the blanket between all of them.

Virgil shrugged in answer to his question. “It’s good,” he said, “and I don’t want to waste any of it.”

“You know we can just take the leftovers back to the castle and eat them later,” King Thomas said. “You don’t have to eat it all now.”

Virgil just shrugged again, watching as the king set out a group of 8 figures on the board.

“Here, which character do you want to be?” the king asked Virgil, gesturing at the group of figures. Virgil had not noticed the figures were different at first glance. They were all copper colored and about the size of his thumb, but they had slightly different shapes. He squinted at them each carefully, finding they all looked like people, but with different clothing. Some worse pants and some skirts, a few had hats, and one was even carrying a book.

After a few moments, he pointed at one that looked like it had vines wrapped around its arms and was wearing a floppy hat that almost covered its eyes.

“That’s the druid,” King Thomas told him with a grin. “Good choice, and luckily not one that anyone usually fights over.” He glanced at Logan who didn’t react to his father’s gaze. He just plucked the figure clutching the book off the board for himself.

Patton and the king picked pieces for themselves. Patton picked one with an apron that kind of reminded Virgil of his mom and the king picked one that was in a suit of armor before putting the other 4 figures away.

Unlike checkers, this game wasn’t just for two people, and so no one had to sit watching people play while bored out of their mind.

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They played a practice round so Virgil could figure out how the game worked, though honestly it wasn’t that complicated, so it wasn’t really necessary.

The theme of the game was all about stealing. They were supposed to steal special tokens from other players as well as characters in the game and the first person with 20 tokens won.

The other three players argued that stealing was not the point and not the main mechanism of the game, but considering Virgil was consistently winning the entire time, he would argue they were just playing it wrong. He managed to collect 20 tokens before anyone else. In second place at this time was Logan with 9 tokens.

Logan insisted on continuing to play the game to determine 2nd and 3rd place, so Virgil ended up watching them play for a bit. Virgil didn’t mind sitting and watching other people play this game, mostly because he still had the joy of victory running in his veins.

Thomas was definitely going to lose, he noted. He kept wasting his money feeding the nonplayer characters who lived on his lands. Virgil didn’t mention this faulty strategy to him in case Virgil ever played him again.

When Logan took too long thinking about his next move, Virgil took in their surroundings.

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He’d been a bit too distracted by the prospect of food and then trying to understand (and then win) the game to truly take in The Cliffs. They were settled a good distance away from the cliffside but Virgil could still see how quickly the edge dropped off. He couldn’t see the large river he was told was at its base from where he was sitting, but he did see a few of the promised wild birds (including doves) flying around. The king had promised they’d bird watch for a bit, and Virgil figured that would happen after the game was over.

A cool spring breeze brushed across Virgil’s face, and he put his hand in his hoodie pockets to warm them. Instead, his fingers hit something icy cold.

For a moment, he didn’t remember what it was. The crescent shape of it was familiar when he put his hand over it, but he had never felt it cold before.

It was the protection charm: the first charm Virgil had ever made with Logan so many months ago. It was meant to ward off small threats as well as warn you about larger threats by changing temperature…

It had always been warm.

“What?” Patton asked, having noticed Virgil suddenly tense. Virgil, despite how he drilled into his friend’s heads to stay alert had gone soft. He’d let himself be distracted by a full belly and warm blankets and fun games.

He didn’t answer Patton. He filtered the other boy’s worried face out as well as Logan’s face as he glanced at him and the king’s still focused on the game for now. He filtered out the picnic blanket and smell of food still lingering in the air and the vine covered figure set in the middle of the board on the winner’s space. He filtered out the sound of the breeze and the breath of his companions and the distant chirping of birds.

And he heard a whoosh.

[moodyhaaze]

Mate, what are you on about?

Whenever I look in the obey me tag, it's filled with an overwhelming amount of dominant and/or sadistic takes on the characters x painful to read submissive reader, not to mention painfully cishet and completely lacking in inclusivity.

The kinks you mention are few and far between, even when you're directly looking for them if the searches I just did is anything to go by. You have to actively be looking for that type of content to find it, and there are much worse things that the obey me fandom has produced, such as categorizing Asmodeus as predatory and a r-pist. Submissive characters or headcanons about piss kinks or lactation kinks are the LEAST of the issues here.

Secondly, dom/sub and giving/receiving are not linked at all, which is something ALL fic writers and consumers should understand. That kind of mindset is rooted in purity culture, misinformation, as well as anti-queerness.

You are correct. There's is a massive issue with people watering down or changing characters to suit their taste. There's also nothing wrong with being vanilla, but there is also nothing wrong with having kinks either. You made a massive post that can be summed up as "don't yuck someone's yum" and then proceeded to do that exact thing because you personally do not like reading it. Block the tags for that content or whoever is writing it and go on about your day.

No one is forcing you to read it.

Mate, what the fuck are you on about?

I didn’t mean what I said to be exclusively about tumblr and perhaps I should have clarified in the original post. I’m also referring to twitter, instagram, etc.

I used the examples I did as EXAMPLES. I never said those were always the case. I don’t know if you felt personally attacked by what I said or what, but you completely misconstrued what I said. The issue is NOT people having those kinks or being into those things, the issue is people being asses to others that AREN’T into them.

Regardless you clearly need to go back and reread what I said because at no point did I “yuck anybody else’s yum.” I made it a point to say that it’s okay to like what you like, just don’t tell somebody else that their headcanon is wrong if they don’t agree with you.

And, yeah, people categorizing Asmo as predatory and so on is an issue, I agree with you there, and that’s much worse than what I complained about, but that is not the point of my post.

Nobody is forcing me to read any of it, yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I see people being asses about it often enough that’s it’s an issue. Again, it’s people being asses about it that’s the issue, NOT THE KINKS THEMSELVES.

Nobody forced you to feed me a bite of this lukewarm nothing burger of a response you wasted your time on writing out when clearly you had no intention of understanding what I had said to begin with.

[veryrealimagination]

“I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Day No: 4

Prompt:n cattle prod

Fandom: Murdoch Mysteries

Medium: fic

Trigger Warnings: none

SFW

Ogden had a thrum of excitement and fear as she sneaked around the office building. Murdoch and her had entered the building, eerily deserted as they tried to find a person that was wanted in connection with a murder. Neither of their phones worked, which pointed to an illegal mobile jammer somewhere in the building. They had made way to go back outside and wait for backup from Crabtree and Higgins. Except the door had locked behind them, electronically as well.

Unsure on whether it was a trap, or a security function, the two decided to go further into the building. There had to be a person, or some sort of communication outside that they could find and figure out what was going on. Having gone through the first floor, and then the second, the third floor caused a bit of a problem. Searching two different rooms, the doors had latched behind them. And each produced a set of stairs. Hers went back down. Murdoch’s went up. Once they realized they wouldn’t be able to get back together, they went forward, being cut off from each other.

Admittedly, this felt like those cheesy spy films she watched late night while nursing Llewellyn. She still watched them when he started sleeping through the night, and then when she was cursed with writer’s block. The main character walking through an evil boss’s base trying to find the MacGuffin before it can destroy a nation or take over the world.

A lot funner than the stuff around Terrance Meyers and what happened in their last lives. And that blasted Allen Clegg. Thank someone that they haven’t come back to haunt them yet. She knows that Clegg will attack her family this time. Meyers might threaten them as well.

She heard new noises, coming down to this area. She was back on the second floor, she figured, but this was an area cut off from them this time. They had been seeing normal offices and cubicles. This was a much more threatening area. Industrial, it appeared to be the inner workings of the building. Water pipes and heating vents. She kept going, carefully looking around corners and making sure her footsteps weren’t echoing loudly. Thankfully, she switched shoes. Instead of the heels that she normally wore, it was running shoes thanks to joining William in the morning. She hadn’t switched before going with him.

The end of the corridor led back up and she shook her head before going back up to floor three. This time, she didn’t end up in the offices, but behind the scenes. Continuing forward, she wondered if it would also led up, and eventually she could find a door to rejoin Murdoch.

She had not noticed the item coming at her, had not noticed the person that quickly appeared at her left before something was shoved into her ribs. Something blasted through her body and she screamed in pain before dropping to the ground.

*Oh, bloody hell, that hurt worse than slipping on black ice and crashing to the ground during a Toronto February blizzard.*

Unable to move away, the item came down again and she barely saw before it was placed against the opposite side and triggered. It might have been the same amount of time. Might have been less or more. She couldn’t tell. Just let out another pain filled wail before her body registered that it had stopped.

After the pain managed to leave a tiny bit away from her mind, she noticed that the person was holding a long stick with two metal pieces at the end. *Prod, oh that was a cattle prod. Fucking bastard, I’m still feeling the shocks.* The person holding it was wearing a mask and covered well enough that she can’t tell who it is.

The thing came down at her again.

“Oh, don’t you-” she tried, before a third time caused her to scream in agony. Ogden finally fell unconscious when her body couldn’t handle it any more.

[kingkatsuki]

you are a whole ass weirdo for blocking people out of nowhere for not REBLOGGING your stuff 😭😭😭 you are one of the most popular blogs in the whole mha fandom, you gotta be kidding you don't even lack the reach or the platform, i didn't peg you for being this interaction hungry

Hihihi! You’re clearly very upset that I’ve blocked you for not supporting content creators by reblogging their fics. I’m really sorry that you won’t be able to be a silent follower anymore, but maybe you can check out my ao3 instead if you just want to silently consume content without clicking any buttons.

The reason why I block people who don’t reblog fanfics (as I’ve mentioned a million times before it doesn’t have to be my fanfics, doesn’t even have to be bnha fandom) is because you bring absolutely nothing to fandom or the fandom community. There’s no point you following me, so I just block you to make myself more comfortable.

The people I’ve blocked for being blank blogs or not reblogging content that have messaged me have all been unblocked after supporting writers/artists. And honestly most of them have never reblogged any of my fics, and I’m okay with that… because they’re supporting someone.

There’s gotta be someone on this website that you hold above all else, that whenever they post they put a smile on your face? That bring you comfort when you’re having a bad day? That you actively look at their page first, like a morning newspaper or you think of randomly throughout the day like “oh, this was in ____’s fic,” … you don’t even want to support your most favourite author/artist?

It’s nothing to do with my “reach” or my “platform”. I’m a nerdy woman who reads and writes fanfic in my spare time, not David Attenborough. But regardless of whether I have 1 follower or 100,000 followers I, like every other creator that posts their stuff online (musicians, artists, writers, even fucking tiktokers) want feedback on my work! Even if it’s just an empty reblog or a quick comment “that was great” “good job” it means so much more than a like on a fic.

We’ve spoken about this before on tumblr but the like to reblog ratios on fanfics (and other content) is laughable. A fic with 5000 notes might only have 200 reblogs and 5 comments, and the lack of feedback will result in the creator wondering if it was even worth posting, if it’s even worth them posting again.

This is the reason why people stop creating, and it’s not just in the fanfic community. What do you think happens when your favourite musicians music flops, or your favourite TV show doesn’t bring in the ratings? People stop making, they stop producing. It’s the same shit with fanfics.

The fanfiction that you’re so mindlessly consuming takes time and effort. There’s a real person behind the screen gifting you their piece of art for free, and you don’t have time to click a button?

I’ve said it before, and I’ll continue to say it. I’m incredibly lucky I have the friends and followers that I do on this website, people that comment on my fics and reblog with the loveliest tags. Even the ones that are too shy to interact with me, I see your usernames in my notifs whenever you reblog something. But I know a lot of friends and followers do not get that same luxury, there are writers who pour their heart and soul into writing on here and get no likes, no reblogs and no comments. But people like you are reading and enjoying their fics.

How many times have you wished you got a part two to a fic? Or a new fic from an author who stopped writing? I know for people like you it’s easy to click out and just find something else to read, but I’ve lost some of my favourite authors on here because people like you won’t even click a button.

I deserve interaction, all the other creators on here deserve interaction.

TL;DR — You’re selfish, and I don’t want you following me💕

[lemonjoonah]

The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).  

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact���

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...  

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?”  You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.”  The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry.  “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”  

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.  

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”  

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head.  “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose?  “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside.  Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”      

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a  sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a  warm and earthy scent envelopes you.  His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.  

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel.  Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it  you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid.  “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin.  “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod.  A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.  

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.  

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth.  He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts.  And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.  

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”  

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.  

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”  

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom.  A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.  

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

[amporella]

Hey! I don’t remember seeing anything problematic in the kyman zines. I didn’t read the fics tho, was it in there or is it possible I missed something?

There's a chance that you downloaded the zine after the piece was removed, and didn't see it because of that! Here's a recap of the Kyman Zine situation, though (warning that it's kind of long):

The Kyman Zine was a zine primarily produced on Twitter by @/shokikita, @/shouriii (who you may know better as @/mirrorshards on Tumblr) and @/DrAbesacraben. The Kyman Zine was entrenched in a lot of drama since the beginning, mainly because a user suspected to be from the Kyman Zine (and confirmed to be from the Ships Ahoy discord server, which remains unaddressed by the mods) was harassing anyone who shipped style (as well as slandering the style zine organizers), but that somehow was not the biggest issue the Kyman Zine caused for themselves.

The biggest issue was that the Kyman Zine had actual, literal NAZI PROPAGANDA in it. Once again, I'm attaching the images on Imgur because needless to say, they can be triggering. Here's the link to an Imgur album with the image posted in the Kyman Zine, as well as a few examples of Nazi propaganda that DIRECTLY parallel what was put in the zine. I literally would not be surprised if the artist used actual nazi propaganda as a reference for their piece.

The tweet by the artist initially posting the image (along with two others they had drawn for the zine) has been deleted, but here's a screengrab I have about what the tweet originally titled the piece as; "Manipulation". Not a good look.

The fact that the artist drew something like this isn't inherently surprising to me; a subsection of the kyman fandom has always had its issues with antisemitism. But the fact that it managed to pass THREE ORGANIZERS looking at it and accepting it into the zine is legitimately baffling to me. There is no reasonable excuse for it to pass three sets of eyes, and for all three to say 'all clear!'

And even beyond that, one of the organizers ADMITTED that she didn't even know the Jewish puppetmaster antisemitic trope was a thing. How can you possibly take on the job of doing a zine for a ship where antisemitism is a CORE part of the dynamic, and fail so badly at educating yourself beforehand? How can you expect to be able to effectively monitor those submitted works when you don't even know what you're supposed to be looking for? (I'm censoring the username of a person who called them out on it here for privacy; that's why their url is whited out)

The zine team did end up apologizing for allowing the piece into the zine, and they removed the piece from the zine before reuploading it to itch.io. But seriously, how did this even happen in the first place. HOW DO YOU HAVE A RULE FORBIDDING WW2 IMAGERY (and HOW WOULD YOU NOT THINK TWICE ABOUT NEEDING THAT RULE) AND THEN FAIL TO UPHOLD IT? HOW IS THAT SO HARD?

The organizers also 'thanked' the people who reached out about this problem, which would probably sound more sincere if one of the organizers (yup, the one I already mentioned up above) didn't ARGUE with a person who pointed it out because they weren't respecting the opinion that it wasn't nazi propaganda. (Once again, the user is whited out, and the user whose posts you can't see is one of the zine organizers who blocked me </3)

Needless to say, it isn't an opinion that the above image had similarities to nazi propaganda; it's a fact. The organizers couldn't even accept that they had fucked up without acting like the victims.

And now these THREE SAME PEOPLE are the ones who are running the Kyle zine - a zine specifically about a Jewish character. These three same people who are so oblivious to antisemitic history that they couldn't even recognize the Jewish puppetmaster trope for what it is, and those three same people who exposed that wildly antisemitic fanart to literally thousands of people who downloaded it.

Furthermore, the Kyle zine is titled 'Jewish, Jersey, and Ginger'; literally a quote by Cartman. Generally, I would disapprove of having a zine that was supposed to be non-shippy be run by three notorious shippers (especially who had just run a zine about shipping), but I disapprove of it even MORE heavily when those same organizers have a history of being so negligent that Nazi propaganda ends up in their zine.

I can only assume the Kyle Zine is going to be an absolute disaster. The organizers do not seem capable of monitoring the content that ends up in the zine effectively, and honestly I think it would be a miracle if the zine somehow was produced without anything glaringly antisemitic in it. If the Kyman Zine people truly felt remorseful about their mistakes, they would have dropped the Kyle Zine and took some time to educate themselves on what they had done wrong; instead, they went full steam ahead and decided to blame everyone else.

It was really terrible. The Kyle Zine is free as far as I'm aware, but I still can't recommend downloading it based solely on principle. Don't give the organizers your views. What they did is seriously fucked and if a Kyle Zine was to be produced (or even another Kyman Zine), it would need MUCH more careful monitoring than those organizers could provide.

[zoethespiritwolf]

Hi!

I don’t know if you’re taking requests right now. But I was wondering if I could request a Sokka x reader? She/her. I was thinking of a modern setting, but everyone still has their bending and y/n is a fire bender. So naturally Sokka and y/n start out as enemies but grow to be best friends, until one day y/n suddenly goes missing. The gaang does everything they can to look for their friend but Sokka is the one to take her disappearance the hardest. He admits to his friends that he has feelings for y/n. They find her alive a week later (you can pick where they find her). After she’s recovered Sokka finally tells her his feelings.

Sorry if it’s a weird requests. I just thought this might be an interesting storyline.

Hi! Yes, I do take requests, I just haven't been active lately due to various issues😅

This was actually a very interesting scenario, although a bit complicating, but still very fun to write.

I decided to change a few minor details and make into a two part miniseries, but regardless, I hope you enjoy it, anon! <3

Ps: part 2 will come soon

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

(I unfortunately couldn't find the original artist. If you know who it belongs to, please, let me know, I'll credit them right away)

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

I love her, damn it!

Part 1

Ship: Sokka x f!firebender!reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries and gun wounds, a bit of angst, but it ends well

Genre: angst-to-comfort

Fic type: scenario

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

It had never meant to come to this. At least, that's what the members of Team Avatar thought when they managed to get themselves into this situation.

They had found that key information was stored at one of the heavily guarded military bases in the Fire Nation. Information that they needed to bring down the government and leader of said nation. Yet when they had successfully broken in by using their bending abilities and careful planning and managed to obtain the info, one of the previously knocked-out guards had woken up and set off the alarm.

However, that wasn't the worst of it. They had managed to bust out of the building itself but had yet to get past the borders.

"There!" Katara yelled out, pointing her finger towards a military jeep.

"Everyone get in!" Zuko yelled at the group as he turned back to use his firebending to hold back the soldiers along with (Y/n).

Both of them used their abilities to burn and block their attackers as others scrambled to get into the car, with Aang at the steering wheel.

"Get in you two!" Sokka yelled out to the two newly joined firebenders from the back of the car, shielding his face briefly with a stolen police shield when a bullet flew his way. "We have to go! NOW!"

Zuko and (Y/n) turned their attention to the others in the jeep before looking back in front of them to the defeated soldiers. The older boy then started sprinting off to the jeep while the girl stayed behind to look if they wouldn't be followed when they departed. Unfortunately for her, she could see more Fire Nation soldiers coming down the front corridor, holding either rifles or machine guns, some empty-handed which meant more firebenders.

"Start driving! I'll catch up to you!" (Y/n) yelled out to her teammates.

"Are you insane!? No!!" Sokka yelled back.

"God damn it! Listen to me for once Sokka!" the girl yelled back. "Start driving! If you don't, none of us will make it! GO!!!"

Sokka wanted to argue further but jolted forward when the jeep started working and driving away. Fortunately, he had caught himself at the edge of the doorway, his eyes turning back to the firebender he considered a former enemy and now rival.

The girl looked back and made eye contact with the sea-blue eyes of her rival. (Y/n) noticed how Sokka's brows were furrowed downwards and eyes blazed like the flames that only a few firebenders like Princess Azula could produce.

"How pretty they are," she noted to herself briefly before turning back to the soldiers in front of her, guns ready to shoot at them.

She pulled back her balled hand before thrusting it in front of her and releasing a large blast of flames at them, knocking most of the soldiers back. (Y/n) slightly rose to the toes and in a swift twirl turned the opposite direction and chased down her friends' jeep.

She didn't think about anything else, only Sokka's stretched-out hand. The girl willed her tired body to run faster after them and had already stretched out her hand in return before a sharp pain suddenly came from her calf.

Only then (Y/n)'s and Sokka's brains registered the gunshot. The boy propelled himself as much forward as he could before he would tumble out of the back completely trying to grasp her hand. But it missed, just barely, but missed regardless.

And once again, their eyes locked on each others. Both pairs widened in shock and horror as (Y/n) plummeted to the dirt path when her leg finally gave out.

The firebender could faintly hear the screams of her name from her friends over the deafening sound of her heartbeat in her ears. (Y/n) looked down at the source of her agony and saw that the bullet had indeed managed to get itself deep into her calf. And the longer the girl looked at it, the pain intensified.

She heard the clocking of guns and turned her gaze upwards to see that the soldiers had caught up to her and readied their guns. (Y/n) weakly raised her hand upwards and looked back in the direction she had been running only to see the stolen car driving further and further away.

"At least they made it," (Y/n) sighed as she thought of this.

The girl then felt her hand being seized and cuffed, as the soldiers yanked (Y/n) to her unsteady feet, making her grit her teeth together as to not release a scream of pain. She knew they would use it against her if she showed any weaknesses.

When they started to drag her into the base she had tried to escape, she glanced back down the road where her friends had taken off, not seeing the car anymore, only a black fading dot in the distance.

"At least they'll be safe," she girl thought before her view was obscured by the closing metal doors.

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

"We have to turn back!" Sokka yelled at the front passengers of the car. "(Y/n)'s still out there! She could die!"

"We have to leave her, Sokka." Zuko replied tiredly, "We are too far away now. Besides, even if we did now turn around and drive back, what then? What's your plan? Busting back into the base full of heavily armed guards and firebenders and hope to magically find her?"

''YES!!" Sokka yelled, his brows further creasing downwards further by the second.

"Sokka, we won't make it," Katara reasoned as she turned to look back at her distressed brother, "we barely made it out ourselves. We can't go back. At least not now-"

"We escaped because she bought us time!" Sokka argued back, "We need to go back to her! We owe her for this!"

"Sokka, we'll get her back," Aang chimed in still driving the car, "but right now, we need to get somewhere safe so that we can clearly think of a way to rescue her."

Sokka stayed silent at this comment. Deep down he knew this, he knew more than anyone that they needed a plan to get her out and that they couldn't just bust her out with their abilities. But the urge to get her back near him, the fear that he might lose her and she would die because he wasn't fast enough, the things he hadn't yet said..

The water tribe boy slumped down the wall of the jeep and sighed dejectedly. He ran a hand through his done-up hair before hesitantly bringing it in front of him on his lap. It's the same hand that couldn't grab (Y/n) when he had the chance, and he hated that fact.

"You really love her," Toph murmured in astonishment beside him.

Sokka briefly looked at the blind girl beside him whose eyes were widened in genuine shock right at him. The boy opened his mouth to deny it, but the words got stuck in his throat, unable to come out. He then turned his gaze back at his hand in his lap and stared at it for a few seconds before murmuring back, although more to himself than to the others.

"Yeah, I do."

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

Part 2

[blueprint-han]

[Image ID: A black picture with the title “HOW TO SUPPORT FANFICTION AUTHORS” written in bold caps lock, colored with a winter forest picture. End ID.]

Well, this post has been made countless times, but I’m making one too because I’ve seen a lot of people say they’re new to tumblr and don’t know the whole “reblogging is better than liking” rule and other stuff. So without any further ado, here are ways YOU can support the fanfiction authors. Now keep in mind this applies to almost every author out there, not just the stayblr fandom, so if you’re a silent reader (or even if you aren’t), I advise you go through this post. Warning, this is a fairly long post going into detail, so yeah. I still expect you, the readers to read this, and if you’re a writer, feel free to lmk if i’ve written smth wrong or if you want me to add something! ^^

In this post I’ll go into thorough analysis of the pros and cons of each of the methods listed here and how YOU as a reader can show the authors whose fics you read more love and motivate them to produce content.

WARNING; LONG POST! GOES INTO A DECENT AMOUNT OF DETAIL. NOT EDITED, EXCUSE ANY TYPOS.

#1 : LIKING !

I think this is basic common knowledge, and a lot of people tend to do this. When you like the post, the author sees it, you see it, and if the author has their liked posts accessible (which majority of the time they don’t), and if someone deliberately goes to check it, then they see it. See why so many authors say just liking does nothing? Only liking says “Hey, I’m gonna tell you your story is not that good by simply liking it and not sharing it with other people. :D”

♯ PROS:

You’re telling the author that you've read their fic, and either you’ve enjoyed it to a certain extent, or you’re just saving it to read for later.

Likes are seen by you, the author and anyone who has access to your likes (which, most people don’t).

♯ CONS:

If you ONLY like, you’re not really helping the author’s work reach a wide audience because this site isn’t Instagram. Reblogging is the only way people can SEE our works. I’ll cover more on that in the next section.

In a nutshell, liking is good! But you should most likely use it in a combination with the other stuff I’ve listed below, because just the like itself doesn’t really do much in giving the author any feedback or interaction on their fics.

To clear shit up; I’m not talking about those people who don’t read the story or appreciate it in the first place. I’m talking about those who appreciate the fic, like it, but don’t leave any sort of feedback to show that.

#2 : REBLOGGING !

This is SO, SO important. I cannot stress on this enough. Let me explain WHY so many writers stress on reblogging content: 

Tumblr’s tag system is inherently fucked up, and has grown more so over the year. I’m not kidding, at first, the fic either used to show up in the tags or it didn’t, but now, sometimes your fic can be REMOVED from the tags because of,,, idk tumblr tag shit. Anyways, as you can see, it’s very demotivating for authors at that point, because the major way for people to find their content and expand their blogs has been blocked.  

Due to this reason, tumblr authors need to RELY on you, their followers to help spread their works to a wider audience. Now again, before you get me wrong, I’m not saying you ae forced to rb our works regardless of whether you like them or not. BUT, that being said, if you DO infact like the story, there’s no harm in reblogging, right? By doing this you’re indirectly telling the author — “hey! :D I liked your fic! Which is why I am gonna share it to my followers so they can read it too :D” Trust me, you’re doing nothing but helping the people who produce content for you to read. Seems like a worthy cause to hit the reblog button, right? It’s only a one, or maximum two step procedure.

Leave tags in your reblogs! Trust me, as an author myself and as much as I know from all my author friends, we oft check the tags of your reblogs to see if you found any part amazing or even if you have anything to say about the writing we put so much hard work into. Even a key smash or a “This was so [insert adjective] 🥺” is enough to leave a smile on your authors face. 

♯ PROS :

You’re !! Sharing !! Your authors !! Works !! This leads to them getting more recognition, so for the content they’re so graciously providing for free, you’re promoting their blog and helping them expand it.

If the tags are being a shit, which majority of the time they are, then you’re literally making an author’s day by reblogging! You’re showing them that you, a follower and appreciator of their works are willingly sharing their content because it deserves to be seen by more people. Again before any dumb people decide to attack me, i am talking about people who like the fic but don't bother reblogging and are silent/ghost readers. I am not forcing anyone to read anybody’s work.

YOU’RE MAKING YOUR AUTHOR SO HAPPY WHAT MORE REASONS COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT !! 🥺

♯ CONS :

Literally none, because as far as I remember no author is against reblogging of their works. It’s quite literally the way this platform functions. Reblogging is IMPORTANT.

#3 : COMMENTING/SENDING FEEDBACK !

This kind of overlaps with the previous section, but THIS IS SUCH AN IMPORTANT STEP !! When you leave feedback, you are directly giving the author something so much more valuable to them than high follower/note counts or money. Your feedback is literally our serotonin. I kid you not the number of times I’ve received a positive comment and smiled and it has made my day. There’s a reason youtubers (though not the best example, bear with me here because it was the only one I could think of) ask people to subscribe, like and COMMENT. The subscription is like a follow, the like is ofc like a heart, and the comment is equivalent to an rb with comments in the tags. 

You might argue and tell me that a comment is basically like an ask so the reblogging step isn’t necessary, but I’m sure 99% of you use YouTube and you know that more comments leads to people’s videos boosted in the stream/trending charts. This is what reblogging does. Reblogging shares the piece with other people like minded, which leads to a boost in reads. You are literally helping your author grow.

It’s quite literally the same thing as youtubers. Youtubers NEED validation to keep their content creation going, so do writers, so do other ccs on this site. This post is however, focused on WRITERS, so keep that in mind.

♯ PROS :

By doing this, you’re giving author valuable feedback! It’s similar to what you do in rbing with tags. Interactivity with their fics boosts their note counts and helps expand their audience, so srsly, now think of it: your one comment is playing such a massive role to help ccs create more content.

Imagine how much of a difference the note counts will be in when every person who simply likes after reading the fic, reblogs, leaves a comment and sends an ask. the note counts would be high on each and every fic, which is validation in itself, but your comments would inspire the writer so much more! Please, don’t skip the commenting part. Even a simple one like: “this is so cute!” is wonderful. 

♯ CONS :

Remember, if you’re gonna give constructive criticism (which I’m sure you all are smart enough to know if different from hate), make sure the author is okay with it. Authors need to be in a specific mindset and must be ready to accept criticism, so if you’re gonna give constructive criticism to them when they’re at a low point, it may demotivate them.

Just commenting, instead of reblogging and commenting in the tags/ reblogging and then leaving an ask in their inbox, while it gives validation in plenty, will not lead to the author’s work being spread. Therefore I suggest either reblogging and commenting in the tags or reblog and then leave an ask, or comment under the fic!

!! reminder; I am not saying that if you don’t rb and just leave feedback, your feedback has no value. We authors truly appreciate every bit of feedback, but this post is aimed to help you learn how to interact with and support authors, and make them feel more motivated, because the current scenario of liking and scrolling is taking a toll on their creative abilities. Take it from a person who’s been writing for a year.

#4 : COMMSIONING VIA THEIR KO-FI/OTHER APPS !

Before any of you attack me, let me tell you that this is not a step that is 100% necessary to do. ONLY donate if you can and if you genuinely want to, and if anyone is forcing you to pay for something against your will, you need to get yourself out of there.

Regardless, if an author has a kofi and you’re able to and you want to donate, you definitely should! It’s also a valid form of support.

#5 : ADDING THEM ON REC LISTS/ RECOMMENDING THEM TO REC BLOGS

This is such an underrated option, to be honest. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen my fic was recommended onto some rec list and it’s made me smile so hard. If you like some fics, create a rec list! They��re oft very popular amongst the fans too. Making rec posts is such a great way to share your favorite stories with others. 

Rec blogs! I’ve seen a couple going around, and needless to say they are a great way to get someone else to read your favorite author’s work whilst also giving them your own feedback. These blogs oft accept recs via a form or ask box, and they leave your feedback along with their own, or else they’ll oft tag the author in the feedback post, so look! You’re basically helping your author share their fic to many more people, because you’ve given them feedback and a reblog.

♯ PROS :

Validation! Feedback! Reblogs! More exposure! Helping a blog grow! Spreading love! basically a run down of the stuff I’ve said before!

♯ CONS :

Literally no con of this. Unless, a one in a million case, this author says they don’t like receiving feedback/being tagged, and I’m sure NO person has said this before, at least none that I’ve heard of.

#6 : FINAL COMMENTS; MISC !

When an author points out about how the interactivity is drastically reducing, don’t just give them blind apologies. Yes, you feel sorry for not interacting as much, we understand, but rather show that you’ll become a better content consumer through your actions. We need to see that we’re not just throwing words into a void and that people are actually trying to be better content consumers. 

Understand the fact that authors don’t get paid for this, and 99% of the time, these authors don’t take commissions either. They’re giving you novel worthy writings for free. Take Percy Jackson: You think the author would have felt motivated to write the subsequent parts, let alone two whole series based off of it if literally no one showed that they were interested? Rick Riordan has sales, he is being paid, there are millions of people and big agencies who provide him feedback. Now take that huge amount and simmer it down to an audience of maybe 10000 people This is what fanfic authors want. They don’t want your money, nor are they telling you to risk your lives for them. All they want is, a reblog, some tags, some feedback, some INTERACTIVITY.  A sign that they aren’t throwing fics into the void and that people actually like them, some motivation to continue. Seems fairly easy to throw an rb with some tags, right?

Don’t bother to tell me that we do this for ourselves and we shouldn’t ask for likes and reblogs and feedback, because 1) you are consuming the content that we “write for ourselves” and 2) writers post their content here for interactivity and feedback. We could just not post and write and save our fics in our dungeon drafts for years. But we choose to post to entertain the readers, the consumers. And we aren’t even asking that much in return.

Don’t give me the whole “I’m scared that authors feel that comments are annoying” excuse either because seriously this has been DEBUNKED SO MANY TIMES. Istg, in the nicest way possible, if you still think writers are annoyed by interaction and feedback, after so many posts, long rants have been posted as to how we’re not, then you must truly be living under a rock. There, I said it. Please stop thinking this way, I’ll say it again, AUTHORS ARE NOT ANNOYED OF FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, TAGS, REBLOGS. WE LOVE IT. Saying this is like saying that the audience in a theatre play shouldn’t clap when the play ends because the actors would find it noisy. 🤡

I’ve seen some people saying they have anxiety issues and such, so pls note that I’m not invalidating your condition. If you’re trying to be more interactive, I really appreciate it! If you can’t, that’s fine too. You’re trying.

But for the people who have no reason other than feeling lazy to rb and comment, your lack of interactiveness is not excused. Please. Tumblr is a reblogging site. If you’re gonna consume content like authors are some sort of machines, I encourage you to go get some more perspective.

This site is not Instagram or the satan bird app. Your likes are appreciated but frankly speaking, they do nothing to the author except tell them “Hey i read ur fic but i'm not gonna support u :D” and honestly, that is detrimental to their creative capabilities and mental health. 

DON’T FOLLOW AN ACC JUST TO MINDLESS RB THEIR SIGNAL BOOST POSTS AND THEIR REBLOGS OF GIFS AND NOT INTERACT WITH THEIR WRITING AT ALL ! Trust me, authors prefer a lower amount of interactive followers than a high count that doesn’t even give them any feedback. Again your follows are appreciated, but when you’re following, you know the type of content the author creates, so the author expects that the more followers, the more interactivity. These days, this is just becoming the opposite. So don’t do it! If you’re gonna follow to read, interact with their works. I promise, this will make both you and the author happy. A win-win situation.

In conclusion: SUPPORT YOUR FUCKING AUTHORS! THEY ARE NOT MACHINES THAT HAVE NO FEELINGS TO PRODUCE CONTENT FOR YOU! FICS TAKE DAYS AND DAYS OF PLANNING, PLOTTING, OUTLINING, WRITING, EDITING, MAKING TEASERS. SO JUST SHOW THEM YOU APPRECIATE THEM WITH AN RB. IT’S THE L E A S T YOU CAN DO.

I will be liking this post here written by the lovely @chaninfused​ and @scriptura-delirus​ . Please take time to read it because if you weren’t convinced by my arguments, you will see how much frustration we as writers face on a daily basis. Please, just show support. Here is the post by @stayndays​ about how to get more people to read your work, because it also has a note on reblogging. Please educate yourself, and put an end to this mindless consuming culutre and bring up some interactivity.

If you’ve read this far, I want you to go to two of your favorite authors and leave some feedback in their inbox, and tag me in it (either tag me yourself or ask the author to do so, they won’t mind). Show your writers that our words are taking effect and you are becoming better consumers. I mean it. I’m serious. I want every single one who reads this post to do this. besides valid reasons, if you’re lazy to do this, you’re a part of the problem. PLEASE get more perspective.

Also, feel free to add to this post! I’d love to read your thoughts too, remember to be kind though. And, if I think your rb is somehow contradicting my points and is bringing down the reason I made this post, I will politely ask you to delete your comment, because this post is about being truthful about the harsh reality of tumblr consumers and how we can change it. I’m sure none of you will let it get to that point, though. <3 love you guys. 💓

And, just a reminder, don’t just blindly like this too. Do what I said before, and while I am not forcing you, I’d appreciate your reblog, because seriously, it took me 3 whole days to write this, plus, I’m sure this will help more of your followers understand the fault in consumer culture. haha, that’s it! This post was way too long uff.

also, this is ur cue to not be stupid in my inbox. You have something to say? Think I worded smth wrongly? I’m sure it wasn’t my intention to do so, point it out with manners. 

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 123]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54

There won't be much of this today honestly lol. I have no motivation.

Chapter 55 (Logan)

Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.

Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.

Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce more and more quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.

“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.

“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.

Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.

The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.

After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.

“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”

“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.

“For what?”

Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”

“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.

Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”

Virgil stepped out of his way so he could study the page. “Yes,” Logan said after scanning through all of the ingredients. “I think cardamom would work for something like that. Let me go find some.”

He turned to walk towards where he kept his supplies of potion ingredients. Virgil followed on his heals.

“Can we use a serrated knife?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, Virgil,” Logan said, nodding as he searched through the cupboard that should hold the coriander. “The knife being serrated would help keep the potion stuck to the blade after many uses and would increase the surface area.”

“That was certainly my intention,” Virgil said smoothly. There was something odd about the tone that had Logan turning and blinking at him. Virgil just smiled at him innocently and Logan turned back to the cabinet finally locating the cardamom.

“So how are we going to use that?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll put it in right before the last step and let it sit for about 3 minutes,” Logan said. “If it doesn’t quite work, we may need to make another batch. There are options other than cardamom, but that’s the first idea that comes to mind and it’s a lot simpler if it works.”

He continued to speak of the many other options they could try as they returned to the caldron as well as how they could test the hot knife. It was already about time for the next step and Virgil did it without interrupting Logan’s rant.

Virgil listened to his suggestions with interest all while still making sure the potion he was making was progressing well.

Logan did eventually take over to finish the potion with the revised steps he’d come up with and they ended up with a potion that looked perfect except it was a few shades darker than the one they’d originally been planning to make.

“Well, it looks good,” Logan declared. “We will need to acquire a knife to test its effectiveness, however.”

“There are a few good ones in the kitchen,” Virgil pointed out. “I especially like the one 10 inch one with the black and white handle.”

“You have been eyeing up the kitchen knives?” Logan asked.

Virgil rolled his eyes as though that was not a perfectly reasonable question to ask him. “We should steal that one,” Virgil said.

“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak past Ms. Heart to steal a knife from her kitchen?” Logan asked.

“We can’t,” Virgil said. The ‘but I can’ was implied.

Logan almost didn’t believe him… and then he remembered the water pouch incident. “It’s the dinner rush,” Logan said. “We should probably wait for a bit.”

Virgil was shaking his head. “The dinner rush is the best time,” he said. “Everyone will be distracted, and all of the knives will be out and in prime stealing position.”

“And if Patton’s mother catches us messing around in her kitchen during her busiest time of day, she will have Father ground us for a week.”

“Then we just won’t get caught,” Virgil said.

“I’m not sure if it’s that simple,” Logan said with a frown.

“You can stay here if you want,” Virgil offered. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“No, I’ll come too,” Logan relented, though he did still have some reservations about the idea.

He let Virgil lead him towards the main dining hall. By now, Virgil knew the kitchens and dining hall very well.

“Stay here,” he said. They were in a hallway a few feet down from the staff entrance to the main kitchen. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.”

“What type of reconnaissance?” Logan asked, but Virgil had already vanished before his very eyes. With a blink, Logan looked up and saw a dark figure disappear onto a balcony overhead.

Well, Logan really had no choice but to wait there for him. It wasn’t like he could follow him. He could hear the clatter of silverware on plates from the dining hall down the corridor as he impatiently waited. It only took Virgil a bit over five minutes to return. He dropped suddenly from above and landed in front of Logan in a crouch.

“Well?” Logan asked, letting a bit of irritation into his tone so Virgil knew he was displeased. Virgil did not seem to care.

“Got it,” Virgil said with a wide grin, brandishing a large kitchen knife.

Logan flinched back at the unexpected sight of a weapon.

“You said you were doing reconnaissance!” he sputtered. “Not…” he trailed off remembering that while they weren’t in eyesight of anyone right now, they could be in earshot of someone. He lowered his tone, “stealing the knife already.”

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Virgil said with a shrug, “and then I used the information gathered by that reconnaissance to steal a knife.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at him.

Virgil just smiled. “You would have gotten in my way.”

“I would not have,” Logan insisted.

“How many times has Patton’s mom caught you stealing food from the kitchens in the past?” he asked.

Logan pursed his lips. “That is Patton’s doing,” he said.

“Sure,” Virgil said with an eyeroll. “I’ll have you prove it some other day, but for now,” he twirled the knife around in a way that made Logan cringe even though he did seem to have an expert handle over it. “We have a knife.”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a nod. “We should continue the experiment.”

Virgil stored the knife away… somewhere on his person, and they snuck back to Logan’s rooms.

When Virgil handed over the knife, Logan did have to admit it was a perfect specimen for their project: long and saw-like with a heatproof handle.

Logan carefully set it in a shallow dish and proceeded to pour the potion they’d made onto it. They let it sit for a little under half an hour before carefully pulling it out of the concoction with tongs and letting it airdry. Meanwhile, Virgil suggested they set up a testing area with various old sheets and clothing. They’d even found and decorated an armor stand with an old suit that Logan particularly disliked.

“Well,” Logan said once he’d tapped the handle and had not gotten burned by the potion. “I think we can test it now.” For safety, he made Virgil put on thick heatproof gloves before handing him the knife.

“So how do I make it work?” Virgil asked.

“The original potion works through light friction,” Logan said.

“So just start stabbing things?”

Logan went to respond, but before he could, Virgil had already twisted around and sliced through one of the sheets hanging in Logan’s potion room. There was a sizzling noise as the knife cut through the sheet like it was tissue paper leaving two aflame halves flapping about.

Logan leapt forward to tear the pieces of sheet down and the two of them stomped on the flames to put out the fire.

“It’s perfect,” Virgil said with a grin once the charred remains of the sheet were extinguished.

“It does seem to work as intended,” Logan agreed.

“Let’s do it again,” Virgil said.

“Er, well, perhaps we shouldn’t…,” Logan started, but Virgil had already set his eyes on the armor stand they’d set up. That suddenly seemed like not such a good idea to Logan.

He stabbed the armor stand viciously. It went up in violent flames. Logan’s eyes widened as the blaze only seemed to get bigger as Virgil drew back the knife.

Virgil did not seem to share Logan’s worry as he turned and stabbed another piece of hanging clothing, setting it ablaze as well.

“Virgil, no! You’re going to burn the room down!” Logan yelped.

The armor stand, at that very moment, decided to fall to the ground. They had, perhaps, not set the testing area up as well as they should have because it fell directly onto one of Logan’s rugs and set that on fire as well.

“Oops,” Virgil said, eyes wide.

Above the sound of crackling fire, Logan heard a tapping on the door between his bedroom and work room. It opened slightly after a moment and Logan’s father’s voice called out as he was sticking his head into the room, “Um, what do you mean Virgil… is burning the room down!”

The moment Logan’s father fully processed the presence of the flames, he was bursting into the room. He at least remembered that there was a fire extinguishing powder stocked in Logan’s work room even though that fact had slipped Logan’s mind in the chaos. (Perhaps Logan should have thought to set it out when they were testing a fire knife, but Logan would just add that to his growing list of regrets.)

The king managed to put all of the fires out within 30 seconds of poking his head through the door, but the fire left in his eyes when he turned to look at them afterwards was perhaps more dangerous.

Virgil slowly hid the knife behind his back. It was probably a bit late for that.

“What were the two of you doing in here?” the king asked.

“Nothing,” Logan said. Virgil shot him a look that told Logan what the boy thought about his lying abilities.

Logan’s father put his hands on his hips. “‘Nothing’ set the rug on fire?”

“We may have been doing a small experiment,” Logan said.

“What experiment?” the king asked.

“…I do not wish to say.”

“Logan.”

“Virgil wanted a fire knife.”

“A what?”

Virgil frowned over at Logan. “Your resistance to interrogation techniques is deplorable.”

Father turned to look at Virgil and obviously spotted the fact that Virgil was holding something behind his back.

“Give it here,” Father said, though his tone was a bit gentler with Virgil than it had been with Logan.

Virgil debated it for a moment, but then offered over the knife with a pout on his face. Father gingerly took it and the fire-resistant gloves from him. “Where did the two of you even get this knife?”

“You can’t tell her,” Logan said.

“You stole a knife from the kitchens?!” the king asked.

“We borrowed it,” Logan said.

“Can it be used for cooking anymore?”

“…Well.”

“In the intended manner.”

“No.”

“Then you stole it.”

Logan just frowned and looked away.

“I’m going to go put this in a secure location,” Father said, grimacing at the fire knife in his hands. “No more experiments for you two for a month. I’ll sic Patton on you.”

With that, he picked up what was left of the fire extinguishing powder (just in case) and turned to exit the room.

“Well,” Logan said once he was gone. “That was irresponsible.”

“I could steal it back from him.”

“N-no don’t do that.”

“I definitely could though,” Virgil said.

“I did not hear you say that,” Logan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I am not responsible for any more of your actions in this matter. I am going to the library.”

He walked out of the room then and Virgil followed him to the upstairs library. He said nothing more about the fire knife, but Logan would be a fool to suppose he forgot about it.

Chapter 56 (Thomas)

“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again.

The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again.

Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months.

While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members.

It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well.

Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now.

“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile.

“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.”

“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?”

“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.”

Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs.

So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them.

His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy.

Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total.

Virgil looked confused, but not unhappy about the presence of so many cats. He was leaning down to try to pet them all.

Logan met Thomas’s eyes as he approached and waved a frustrated hand at the two of them. Logan couldn’t help but smile.

“Virgil fed one of them,” Logan complained as though he wanted Thomas to somehow go into the past and prevent this crime.

Patton and Virgil looked over at Thomas, noticing him when Logan addressed him.

“You’re going to make Princess Marisol jealous,” Thomas said. Logan frowned at Thomas as he used the ‘Princess’ label for the cat.

“Princess Marisol decided not to come,” Virgil said with a shrug. He continued to pet one of the cats.

“She’s probably sleeping on my pillow,” Logan said, sounding grumpy.

Thomas just chuckled. Princess Marisol was technically Logan’s cat, at least that’s what the kids said, and she did spend much of her time in the royal rooms. However, she was very clearly actually Virgil’s cat. Virgil just spent a lot of time in the royal wing as well.

In fact, Thomas still didn’t know where Virgil was supposed to be sleeping. He and Mr. Deknis had actually tried to tail him a couple of times, but he always ended up sleeping in Logan’s room those nights.

Knowing Virgil, he might just sleep in the walls. Though that still did not answer the question of where his parents or guardians were. They still had not figured it out. Thomas would assume he was an orphan who’d snuck onto castle grounds for safety, but Virgil had told Mr. Deknis during their first meeting that he was supposed to be in the castle, and it had not been a lie.

Then again, it had slowly become apparent that Virgil was good at dodging the multrum’s powers. It was starting to seem more likely that he’d somehow inserted a second meaning into his answer to Mr. Deknis that night than he somehow had some ghost guardian no one was able to locate working in the castle.

“She deserves the pillow more than you,” Virgil said, bringing Thomas’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. The look of audacity on Logan’s face made Thomas chuckle.

Thomas cut in before it could become a fight. “I could get Princess Marisol a pillow, so she doesn’t sleep on yours. Or we can get you a new pillow if you’d prefer, Logan.”

“It’s not about the pillow for her,” Logan argued. “It’s about her inflated sense of superiority.”

“She deserves it,” Virgil declared. Thomas could tell he was just trying to rile Logan up, and Thomas was sure Logan knew it too, but still his son reacted exactly in the way Virgil wanted him to.

“You have enabled and encouraged this behavior from the start!” Logan seethed.

“She’s a Princess.”

“She is not a princess!”

Patton shook his head while squeezing the cats in his arms, completely used to this behavior at this point. He ran a chin idly over one of the cat’s heads while watching the argument.

“We’re never going to make it to the picnic at this rate,” Thomas said to him, “and after your mother made all of this wonderful food.”

“You’re the dad,” Patton said. “Make them stop.”

And, of course, Patton did just mean that he was Logan’s dad with that statement. However, when he glanced back up at the silly argument still going on between his son and the cat covered boy on the ground, it did almost look like a fight between siblings.

Especially with the dark hair and stubborn but mischievous look in Virgil’s eyes, Thomas could almost imagine the boy being his own child.

He shook away the thoughts and glanced at the picnic basket in his hand.

“We do have a lot of food in this basket,” Thomas said, pitching his voice up so that Logan (and more importantly) Virgil would hear them clearly.

Virgil immediately turned to look at him, abandoning all interest in antagonizing Logan to look at the basket curiously.

Thomas was never sure if he should be amused or worried about how food motivated Virgil often was.

“What’s in the basket?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “Patton’s mom made it. We’ll just have to see once we get to the picnic area.”

Virgil nodded in understanding and began to gently scoot all of the cats out of his lap. Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem inclined to continue the argument he’d been dragged into. Virgil and Patton got to their feet and they continued on their way towards the stables.

The horses Thomas had requested be prepared for their trip were already in saddles, though the stable hand who had been handling Mr. Apples seemed a bit dirtier and more exhausted than the rest.

The stable hand seemed as happy to hand Mr. Apples over to Virgil as Virgil was to have Mr. Apples handed over to him. Thomas received Bella with a smile and Logan and Patton got their own horses as well.

The Cliffs were about half an hour's ride from the main castle. There was a mostly well-maintained path to it, though it was easy to get lost if one didn’t know the way. Mr. Apples knew the way perhaps better than Thomas himself and seemed annoyed by the fact that Thomas was trying to lead the way.

Virgil and Thomas ended up side-by-side whenever the path allowed it to placate him.

He still marveled at how willing Mr. Apples was to let Virgil ride him, especially when he tossed his head in Thomas’s direction, a horse’s equivalent of giving Thomas a stink-eye.

“Are you excited for the picnic?” Thomas asked the boy beside him.

Virgil glanced over at him and nodded.

“I am too,” Thomas said. “It’s always beautiful this time of year. I’m glad I could find the time to take you all there this year.”

“Are you very busy?” Virgil asked curiously.

“I am king,” Thomas reminded, “and now that the world isn’t snowed in anymore things will be busy.”

“With the war?” Virgil asked.

Thomas paused for a few seconds. “Yes,” he confirmed. “With the war, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Virgil asked.

“You’re just a kid,” Thomas said.

“I’m 14,” Virgil said.

Thomas glanced at him. “Exactly,” he said, “a kid, and luckily, you’re in a place that can afford you the luxury of being one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The war has been mainly fought on Mocnejsi soil in recent years. Our boarders have held strong against invasions. Unless something goes horribly wrong suddenly, it would take a long time for the main conflict to get here. The only real threat in the castle would be assassins sent after me personally.”

“Right,” Virgil said. There was an awkward pause in conversation before he spoke again. “You’re winning the war then?” he asked.

“Something could always happen,” Thomas said, “but for the most part, yes, we have quite the advantage right now.”

“Oh,” Virgil said.

Thomas shook his head as they were coming up to a narrowing of the path. “Anyway, today is a day to not think about war. Today we’re going to have a lovely picnic and do some bird watching.”

“Right,” Virgil agreed from behind Thomas as Bella took the lead (to Mr. Apples discontent.)

When the path widened again, Thomas did his best to direct the topic to lighter subjects and soon they made it to The Cliffs.

Chapter 57 (Virgil)

Virgil had never been to a picnic. At least, that’s what Patton had informed him when Virgil had described his past experiences of eating outdoors. Logan had agreed even though he’d admitted that the definition of “picnic” was only eating a pre-packaged meal outdoors which Virgil had done plenty of times.

From what Virgil could tell, the main difference was just how much stuff one brought to a picnic.

In addition to the basket full of food (that Virgil still hadn’t gotten to look in yet), the king had brought a large soft quilt that he had Logan and Virgil spread out on the ground for them all to sit on.

Patton and Logan had also packed some things themselves to bring along. Logan had brought along a book to read, and Patton had brought along a board game (thankfully not checkers but something Virgil did not recognize). Virgil hadn’t brought anything (except for the fire knife he was definitely not supposed to have and was definitely not letting the king see) because he hadn’t known he was supposed to bring things. He wouldn’t have known what to bring anyway.

The blanket was soft and a much better alternative to sitting on the ground, especially because, while there was grass at the top of The Cliffs, there were also a good number of rocks.

The king set the picnic basket in the middle of the blanket once it was spread out and then lowered himself down to sit on one side. Patton quickly followed him, already fiddling with some of his board game pieces, though he wasn’t setting it up yet. Virgil highly doubted that Logan was going to be allowed to read his book unless Patton eventually got bored of the game.

However, they would, hopefully, be allowed to make use of the basket the king had brought along.

Virgil followed the king and Patton’s lead and got to his knees on the blanket across the picnic basket from the king. He peered at the basket curiously.

He didn’t quite know what picnic food was, but Patton had told them they’d be getting ‘picnic food’ and he was very curious about what that meant.

King Thomas smiled at him. “Let’s see what Patton’s mom packed us, huh?” He reached for the basket and flipped it open as Logan sat next to Virgil. “There is a lot more food than usual in here,” the king said, sounding amused. “Let’s see.”

He began to pull out packaged food and glanced in each package to identify it before setting it out.

“We have a few types of mini sandwiches,” he said, putting them down, “and some pasta salad.” He set down the bowl.

“We also have… er something else.” He showed it to Logan.

“They’re hot cauliflower bites,” Logan said instantly upon seeing them. Virgil perked up in excitement. That was one of his favorite foods.

“Ah,” King Thomas said, but shrugged and set it down. “We also have two desserts apparently: cookies and mini apple pies. That last one’s a bit extra for a picnic.”

“They’re very good,” Virgil said happily.

“And we also have.” King Thomas paused, looking confused. “Chicken alfredo?”

“Yes!” Virgil said.

“Why do we have chicken alfredo for a picnic?”

“It’s a Virgil picnic,” Logan groaned. “She packed us a Virgil picnic.”

“Hey, at least momma sent us something too,” Patton said.

“I think I’ll stick to sandwiches for today,” King Thomas said. He looked at Patton and Logan. “Do either of you want…?”

“No,” Logan said. Patton shook his head.

The king nodded and offered the entire covered bowl of chicken alfredo to Virgil. “Here, this one’s yours,” he said.

“Really?” Virgil asked tentatively. It wasn’t exactly strange for people here to offer him food, and he’d expected and anticipated getting to eat on this venture, but the king of the country offering him an entire bowl of his favorite food was something else.

“It’s not really my idea of a picnic food and you seem excited for it,” King Thomas said with a warm smile, still holding it out.

Virgil took it reverently. Despite the time it had taken to get to the cliffs, the bottom of the container was still warm. Virgil assumed it was one of the heating spells the kitchen sometimes used.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, setting it in his lap.

“Of course, Virgil,” the king said.

The bowl was enough for four people to have a little bit, but for one person it was a lot. Still, Virgil was offered a little of every other food in the picnic basket (and he ate a good number of the hot cauliflower bites).

“Where do you put all of that?” the king asked when Virgil finished polishing off the chicken alfredo bowl.

Everyone else seemed to have finished eating long before Virgil, though Patton still had a small plate of grapes, and he occasionally popped one in his mouth. King Thomas was currently setting up the board game they’d brought on the blanket between all of them.

Virgil shrugged in answer to his question. “It’s good,” he said, “and I don’t want to waste any of it.”

“You know we can just take the leftovers back to the castle and eat them later,” King Thomas said. “You don’t have to eat it all now.”

Virgil just shrugged again, watching as the king set out a group of 8 figures on the board.

“Here, which character do you want to be?” the king asked Virgil, gesturing at the group of figures. Virgil had not noticed the figures were different at first glance. They were all copper colored and about the size of his thumb, but they had slightly different shapes. He squinted at them each carefully, finding they all looked like people, but with different clothing. Some worse pants and some skirts, a few had hats, and one was even carrying a book.

After a few moments, he pointed at one that looked like it had vines wrapped around its arms and was wearing a floppy hat that almost covered its eyes.

“That’s the druid,” King Thomas told him with a grin. “Good choice, and luckily not one that anyone usually fights over.” He glanced at Logan who didn’t react to his father’s gaze. He just plucked the figure clutching the book off the board for himself.

Patton and the king picked pieces for themselves. Patton picked one with an apron that kind of reminded Virgil of his mom and the king picked one that was in a suit of armor before putting the other 4 figures away.

Unlike checkers, this game wasn’t just for two people, and so no one had to sit watching people play while bored out of their mind.

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They played a practice round so Virgil could figure out how the game worked, though honestly it wasn’t that complicated, so it wasn’t really necessary.

The theme of the game was all about stealing. They were supposed to steal special tokens from other players as well as characters in the game and the first person with 20 tokens won.

The other three players argued that stealing was not the point and not the main mechanism of the game, but considering Virgil was consistently winning the entire time, he would argue they were just playing it wrong. He managed to collect 20 tokens before anyone else. In second place at this time was Logan with 9 tokens.

Logan insisted on continuing to play the game to determine 2nd and 3rd place, so Virgil ended up watching them play for a bit. Virgil didn’t mind sitting and watching other people play this game, mostly because he still had the joy of victory running in his veins.

Thomas was definitely going to lose, he noted. He kept wasting his money feeding the nonplayer characters who lived on his lands. Virgil didn’t mention this faulty strategy to him in case Virgil ever played him again.

When Logan took too long thinking about his next move, Virgil took in their surroundings.

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He’d been a bit too distracted by the prospect of food and then trying to understand (and then win) the game to truly take in The Cliffs. They were settled a good distance away from the cliffside but Virgil could still see how quickly the edge dropped off. He couldn’t see the large river he was told was at its base from where he was sitting, but he did see a few of the promised wild birds (including doves) flying around. The king had promised they’d bird watch for a bit, and Virgil figured that would happen after the game was over.

A cool spring breeze brushed across Virgil’s face, and he put his hand in his hoodie pockets to warm them. Instead, his fingers hit something icy cold.

For a moment, he didn’t remember what it was. The crescent shape of it was familiar when he put his hand over it, but he had never felt it cold before.

It was the protection charm: the first charm Virgil had ever made with Logan so many months ago. It was meant to ward off small threats as well as warn you about larger threats by changing temperature…

It had always been warm.

“What?” Patton asked, having noticed Virgil suddenly tense. Virgil, despite how he drilled into his friend’s heads to stay alert had gone soft. He’d let himself be distracted by a full belly and warm blankets and fun games.

He didn’t answer Patton. He filtered the other boy’s worried face out as well as Logan’s face as he glanced at him and the king’s still focused on the game for now. He filtered out the picnic blanket and smell of food still lingering in the air and the vine covered figure set in the middle of the board on the winner’s space. He filtered out the sound of the breeze and the breath of his companions and the distant chirping of birds.

And he heard a whoosh.

Chapter 58 (Patton)

If Patton hadn’t already been looking, he probably wouldn’t have had any idea what happened.

Everything had been fine. Virgil had been sitting cross legged, idly watching the conclusion of the game they’d been playing when his posture had suddenly changed. Patton had looked over at him only to see an expression on his face he didn’t recognize, but it didn’t seem good.

“What?” Patton had asked, but the question didn’t seem to register to Virgil.

Logan had glanced up confused and also noticed Virgil’s face. He’d just opened his mouth to also ask what was going on when chaos descended.

Virgil was suddenly moving, crashing into King Thomas who hadn’t even looked up to see something was wrong at that point. Patton realized after the fact that Virgil had swiped up the board of the game they’d been playing as he jumped over it, the pieces previously stacked on it scattering all over the blanket. There were three thumps as some things hit the thick board, imbedding themselves into the surface.

When Virgil discarded the board in favor of the picnic basket, Patton saw there were small darts in it oozing a dark black liquid. The parts of the board they touched were dissolving, the grass under the new holes beginning to wilt rapidly.

Logan seemed to notice the oozing liquid the same moment Patton did and was quicker to realize what it was. He grabbed Patton’s arm and yanked him away from the board so hard he almost dislocated Patton’s shoulder, not that Patton was too worried about that. He scrambled away from it when he realized what it must be himself.

He could hear the sound of glassware smashing above them. Logan and Patton had rolled off the blanket in their quest to get away from the smoldering, melting board and apparently Virgil had pulled the picnic blanket fully over the king at some point.

Virgil himself was now gone from where he’d been the last time Patton had looked and it took him a moment to figure out where the boy had gone. The person who had been shooting poisoned darts at them had been drawn out of the wooded area they’d been hiding in by Virgil’s attacks.

They were cloaked in dark green from head to toe, explaining why they’d been difficult to spot when they were in the woods. Whoever they were, they were significantly larger than Virgil, possibly an actual adult or almost adult assassin, but they were also clearly a long distant fighter. They had not been expecting resistance let alone resistance in the form of a so quick he was almost a blur fellow assassin.

They had a bow strapped to their back, but they hadn’t had a chance to get it. Instead, they were trying to fight Virgil off with an arrow they’d managed to draw from their quiver. Virgil, meanwhile was lunging at them with a broken piece of plate in one hand and the picnic basket in the other.

Virgil dodged out of the way of the arrow striking towards his arm, though Patton didn’t think it was because he was afraid of getting scratched by an arrow, but because it may also be poisoned tipped.

Virgil was distracted by dodging for long enough that the older assassin managed to hit him in the face with the arm not holding the arrow.

He went down, but he took the older assassin with him, sweeping their legs out from under them. Patton hadn’t noticed (his mind working too slow for how fast they were moving) but they were on a slight incline. They went rolling in a tangle of arms and legs towards the edge of the cliff and skidded to a stop only a few feet away.

Virgil ended up on top, his piece of broken plate in his hands. He moved to slash it across the other assassin’s throat and managed to draw blood, but the assassin’s fist came out to shove at Virgil’s chest at just the right moment, causing the strike to veer off course and slice across the assassin’s cheek instead.

Virgil jerked to the side to avoid a second strike to the chest and went back for another slash. The other assassin rolled to the side as he did and the plate only managed to nick their ear. The point of the motion hadn’t been to dodge, however. They were lunging for the arrow they’d dropped a few feet away while they’d rolled. They grabbed it with their right hand and in the same motion stabbed back behind them towards Virgil.

Virgil rolled to avoid the hit, already slashing up with his plate as the assassin turned back towards him.

87295

He didn’t hit them this time but his swipe managed to stop them from stabbing him when they tried again. They shoved themselves back to avoid Virgil’s swing, putting a bit of distance between them. Both of them managed to make it to their feet during the momentary reprieve, but both also stayed crouched, eyeing each other.

They both lunged towards each other at the same time. The assassin went for a stab to Virgil’s neck with the arrow, but Virgil was already ducking down. This time, he wasn’t going for a kill shot. He grabbed the assassin’s wrist and at the same time drove his piece of plate into the assassin’s arm, slicing down from the elbow to wrist. The assassin spoke for the first time, cursing in a language Patton didn’t recognize as they were forced to drop their arrow.

Virgil took a moment to kick the arrow away from the assassin and it ended up falling off the cliff.

However, this pause gave the assassin enough time to regroup. Despite their arm bleeding profusely, they still decided to use it to backhand Virgil across the face viciously, leaving a long line of their own blood across his face.

Virgil lunged back forward, but the assassin was able to get a leg between them, kicking Virgil squarely in the chest and sending him flying back a few feet parallel to the cliff’s edge.

The assassin went to grab their bow and another arrow from the quiver still strapped to their shoulder.

Virgil, however, apparently went for another weapon too and he was much faster with a knife than any archer. A knife appeared in his hand, having been strapped to his ankle and was embedded into the assassin’s chest before they could even full remove an arrow from their quiver.

The assassin promptly burst into flames, fire catching their clothes (and from the smell of it their skin) ablaze. Panicked and dying, they stumbled two steps to the side. They stepped directly off the cliff.

There was a second of silence. They heard the sound of the body hitting the ground far below and then the flap of wings and screeching as birds below fled from the startling sound (and possible soon to be forest fire).

…

“Uh, Virgil?” King Thomas said. He had managed to get the blanket off his head at some point. When, Patton didn’t know, but seeing any of it was probably enough.

Oopsie.

[olderthannetfic]

Hey uh, a topic of conversastion has recently crossed my dash that I really, really need a trusted opinion on. Being that you know a LOT about fandoms and fan history and everything like that, I have to ask... is Archive of Our Own actually and legitimately racist?

--

Christ. This again.

The basic issues are two broad points, one fair and one disingenuous garbage:

1.

AO3 is an archive set up specifically to protect art people find offensive. It is therefore a very US-flavor free speech above all type of place, at least in terms of the work content. (Racist harassment in comments is a different story.)

All of the Left is currently struggling with the question of whether full, unrestrained free speech is actually the highest good. How much does prioritizing this lead to a hostile environment? "When you invite wolves and sheep to the table..." etc. etc. This is not just an AO3 issue but a broader cultural question.

I don't think AO3 is racist per se, but there is room for improvement and prioritizing things that were previously not a focus. Some people have made cogent arguments about why AO3 is failing to protect fans of color by not having better blocking features. AO3 does have exclude filters, but there isn't a way to go "You know, author X always produces offensive shit. Let me just not see them anymore."

AO3 is reportedly working on blocking features, but it's an all-volunteer org with very limited resources, so it's not a surprise that it sometimes can't fully meet its goals, or at least not quickly.

The well-intentioned criticism gets this. @lierdumoa has written about this several times if you want to go look.

2.

Some people are Big Mad that AO3 allows offensive porn and won't let them harass its creators.

These chucklefucks often talk as though only white people would write kinky fic about characters of color, ignoring that POC can be kinky too. As a kinky white person, it is my duty to defend the right of all people to have kinky fantasies. Acting like someone is betraying their people (a thing I have literally seen said multiple times) by having the sexuality they naturally do is grotesque. That shit is super racist and super damaging, and I would be no kind of ally if I let it pass unchallenged.

There's often a huge focus on the wrong ships having more fics, which should tell you right there it's not about any real anti-racist activism.

There's a huge, huge, huge focus on the experience of the reader, but not like "I want to block people" but instead "I am owed content X instead of content Y". This is a bad faith or at least misguided argument because AO3 exists to protect authors. The only barrier to entry is putting your email in a queue for a couple of days. Anybody can post their alternate take any time they want. Treating it like a TV audience situation is bullshit: if you don't like that one DIY punk zine, make your own, dude!

Half of this shit is radical feminist hatred of kinky porn, and half of it is clout-chasing garbage.

--

Now, if you want to know if AO3 has racist content, yes. It does. It's designed to. As the terms of service say:

Unless it violates some other policy, we will not remove Content for offensiveness, no matter how awful, repugnant, or badly spelled we may personally find that Content to be.

So I guess the question is, do you find intensely FREEZE PEACH libraries to be inherently racist or not?

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

De Amore

My fic for @aceomenszine is finally available on AO3!

Aziraphale has come to Paris to find the answer to an important question: What's it like to be in love? Crowley's not sure why he wants to know, but he's willing to discuss it to make his angel happy. Full text below!

--

“What’s it like to be in love?”

Crowley stumbled to a stop on the Paris street, glaring at the angel beside him. Aziraphale stared straight ahead, walking with his usual expression: calm, poised, slightly arrogant. As if he were talking about the weather.

“Dunno. S’a human thing, isn’t it?” He scowled at a few gawking peasants, hurrying to catch up. “Romance. Lust. Sex. Nothing to do with us.”

“You could say the same of hunger, or exhaustion, or boredom.”

“Yeah, and I’d be right.” Crowley held out an arm to stop Aziraphale from walking directly into a produce cart. “Neither of us gets exhausted. You’re never tired, and I just like a good nap sometimes.”

“Really?” A flicker of that mocking bastard smirk. “How many nights did you sleep this past week?”

“Nrrg. Five or six, but that’s not the point.” They started walking again, Crowley tossing an apple he’d snuck from the cart. “I could stop if I wanted to — I’d miss it, but s’not the same as being tired. Same with you and eating.”

“But if I desire a food, so strongly I can already taste it, surely that’s…if not exactly hunger, a close approximation?”

“Don’t think so.” Crowley offered the apple, but Aziraphale shook his head. “Spend a couple days in the city, you’ll see what hunger looks like. S’not about pleasure or wanting a particular food. It’s need, desperation. And we just don’t experience that.” He tossed the apple towards a group of children, and a girl in a ragged dress caught it. “Boredom I’ll grant you. I’ve definitely been bored.”

“So, we might enjoy things as humans do, but never desire them the same way,” Aziraphale mused, smoothing his hands down the front of his stolen jacket. “But is love the longing for a connection with another, or the pleasure of that connection?”

“Doesn’t really make a difference to us, does it?”

He waited for Aziraphale to respond, but the angel simply continued walking, hands folded behind his back, eyes more distant than usual.

“So?” Crowley prodded after nearly a block in silence. “What brought this on?” Aziraphale shrugged. “Let me guess. Reading novels again? Sappy poetry? Getting…ideas?” He stepped ahead of Aziraphale and walked backwards, to ensure the angel saw his suggestive eyebrow wiggle. No response. Crowley shrugged, falling back into step. “Look, f’you want to try falling in love with a human, s’your business. Let me know how it goes. Just do it back in London, I don’t need that…drama getting back to my bosses.”

“That’s not it,” Aziraphale snapped, wringing his hands. “It’s not — it doesn’t even work that way, Crowley. Humans don’t just decide to fall in love!”

“They don’t cross an ocean and charge through a revolution for a snack, either.”

“Oh, never mind. Clearly you’re the expert here.” Aziraphale froze, glaring at a shop just ahead, and threw his hands up in disgust. “And now they’ve closed my favorite creperie! Why do I even bother? Might as well return to England and feast upon whatever lumpy brown bread the first tavern I pass serves.”

“Stop being dramatic,” Crowley hissed, turning down a side street and gesturing for Aziraphale to follow. “If you get locked up again, I’m not rescuing you a second time.” The angel’s lips twisted sourly. “Look, gourmet crepes aren’t really in demand right now, but I know a place. Might still be open.”

“I suppose that will have to do.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and glared at the sky, thin grey clouds veiling the sun. He should probably just let Aziraphale stew in his own sullen displeasure. Might even give him an advantage — a distracted angel was easier to outsmart.

But Crowley hadn’t been in the business of thwarting Aziraphale for over a thousand years. Why oppose each other, when they could work…not together, but in tandem? Ensuring all their duties were fulfilled, their paperwork properly filed.

It was better this way. Less fuss all around, less inconvenience. Pleasanter conversation. More time for trips to the theater or quiet meals, either of which was a far better way to spend an evening than any sort of elaborate espionage.

He’d been looking forward to griping about his job over a mug of cider while Aziraphale worked his way through a plate of crepes, smiling and wiggling in his seat. Watching Aziraphale get excited over something was, in Crowley’s opinion, one of the best ways to pass the time.

Only the conversation had left Aziraphale annoyed, pouting and…Crowley studied him carefully, dark glasses imperfectly hiding his eyes. More than anything, Aziraphale looked hurt. A sight that always made Crowley’s stomach twist painfully.

He sighed, tossing back his head. “‘Love is an inborn suffering, proceeding from the sight and immoderate thought upon the beauty of another, for which cause above all other things one wishes to embrace the other and, by common assent, in this embrace to fulfil the commandments of love.’”[1]

“I beg your pardon?”

“Look, I don’t know. You asked me—!” Crowley walked faster, face growing hot. “It’s from some old treatise, right? Love, he says, is seeing someone beautiful and wanting sex. Then, when you have your fill…” he waved his hand vaguely.

“I see.” Aziraphale adjusted his sleeves. “I suppose that…makes sense.” But he still looked grim.

Up ahead, not quite along their path, stood one of Paris’s parks, gates now open to the public. Apart from some rubbish cluttering the entrance, it seemed well-maintained. Crowley tipped his head, inviting.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up and he nodded, the first hint of a smile on his face. It always made Crowley feel light, that smile, however briefly it appeared.

They wandered in silence up the path, lined by trees here, flowerbeds there. Leaves had turned yellow and the grass was edged with brown, but the roses were still in bloom. Crowley paused to pluck a particularly well-formed bud.

As they crossed a bridge over a small watercourse, Aziraphale suddenly said, “Do you think it’s true, though? That — that treatise? Because it rather sounds like he didn’t see any difference between lust and love.”

“Mmh.” Crowley paused, gazing downstream, where a group of ducks swam contentedly. “As a demon? Yeah. Fits the party line. Humans don’t think of anything but their own pleasure, always wanting what they don’t have. Jealous, possessive, until something better comes along. Then it starts all over. If love and lust aren’t the same, well, they’re pretty close, right?”

“I see.” Aziraphale stepped beside him, holding out his red cap, now filled with grains of barley and cracked corn. They each took a handful and tossed it down. The ducks swam over eagerly, bobbing to catch the seeds before they drifted away.

“But as a being who’s been in the world nearly six thousand years?” Crowley threw another handful, then leaned against the railing, crossing his arms. “Not so sure. Humans do too much that can’t be explained by simple pleasure. Besides, I’ve seen what they do when overwhelmed by lust, and what they do when overwhelmed by love and…dunno. S’not the same.”

More handfuls of grains as a second group of ducks approached.

“What d’you think, Angel?” Crowley prodded. “Must be something in all those books you read.”

“Oh, quite a lot,” Aziraphale assured him. “Much of it contradictory. Many poets will only talk about their beloved’s face, or eyes, but if it were simply a matter of beauty, surely everyone would fall in love with the same beauties.”

“Sometimes they do.” Crowley rolled some seeds between his palms. “S’where the jealousy comes in. But yeah. Gotta be more to it than that.”

“I hope you’re not planning to make those poor ducks sink.”

“What? Nk — no. Course not.” He threw the grains down and the ducks quickly swarmed, turning bright shades of pink and blue and violet as they ate.

“Crowley.”

“Oh, it’s not hurting anyone.” He glanced sideways to see Aziraphale pressing his lips together, struggling not to smile. Grinning, Crowley tossed down more enchanted grains. “Go on then.”

“Hmm? Ah, yes. Well, the overall impression is that love is…transformative. Changes the way one thinks and feels at all times. They speak of, oh, the sun shining brighter, foods tasting sweeter, winter blossoming into summer. Metaphors. Others speak of — of attraction, quickened pulse, sudden heat and so on, but that’s a passing thing, part of a — a particular moment of closeness. Surely, no human could maintain such a state for an hour, never mind weeks or years!” Aziraphale offered Crowley the last handful of grain in his cap. “And once that moment passes…”

“Back to the metaphors.” The ducks below were now spotted, striped, every color of the rainbow. One bore pure white wings, beside another with midnight black. Aziraphale chuckled, very softly, which made Crowley feel immensely satisfied. Dusting off his hands, he circled the angel and continued walking.

“Yes,” Aziraphale hurried to catch up, cap twisting in his hands. “I get the sense that the feeling is so obvious, so…universal, they never think to describe it.”

“How inconsiderate.” Crowley thought it over. “So, flash of heat, racing heart, sun gets brighter, then ten pages about the color of their eyes? That about it?”

“I suppose so.” Aziraphale rubbed a finger across his lip. “Not always beauty, though. Some appear drawn by their partner’s clever mind, or acts of kindness. Some praise stories of bravery or great deeds, others fixate on meaningless symbols of wealth. But still, those only tell why one falls in love, not what it feels like.”

“Sounds like a sort of obsession.” Crowley furrowed his brow. “That treatise had a list of…sort of rules of love. Mostly about jealousy, really, don’t think the author thought much of women, but… ‘Every action of a lover ends in the thought of his beloved.’”

“I see…so that, together or apart, one cannot help but think always of the other. That certainly aligns with the evidence.” He started to replace his cap, then paused, looking inside. “Anything else of use?”

“‘Love can deny nothing to love.’” Beside him, Aziraphale turned pink and a brilliant smile broke across his face, like the sun after a storm. He pulled from the cap the bright red rosebud Crowley had hidden within.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale slid the flower into his buttonhole, drinking in the way the delighted shiver ran across his shoulders. Then the angel looked up, hitting Crowley with the full force of his smile.

Stunning. Blinding. It stole Crowley’s breath away, wiped every thought from his mind.

One day, that smile would destroy him, and he wouldn’t mind at all.

“So, this creperie — are we close?”

“Ngh. Smh. Unh. Nearly. Another block or two.” The park’s gate stood just ahead, half shut, the bustling street beyond. Crowley quickly stepped ahead, pulling it open for Aziraphale. “You, ah, find the answer you needed?”

“I…think so, yes.” He rested his fingers on the gate — so close to Crowley’s he could feel their warmth — then quickly pulled away, folding his hands behind his back. “I’ve been trying to work out…well…whether I’m in love with you, Crowley.”

“Oh.” What was he supposed to say to that? “Oh.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale’s eyes darted nervously and he began to pace. “I-I want you to know, I don’t desire you. I’ve never felt that sort of attraction. And I’m not jealous by any means. I’m not even certain who I’m meant to be jealous of. But…” He turned back, tugging his jacket. “I think of you. Constantly. Every action, every experience reminds me of you. I go to a concert, and I can’t concentrate on the music, only whether you would enjoy it. I hear a joke and I imagine how you would laugh, or roll your eyes, and I can’t know a moment’s peace until I’ve shared it with you. And last month…when I was reprimanded…for days afterward I could think of nothing but how I wished you were there. When I finally found the strength to venture out, it was only from my determination to come here.”

“For…crepes?” Crowley offered stupidly.

“No, you silly creature, for you.” He stepped forward, reaching up as if to straighten Crowley’s lapels, but once again his hands dropped. “I hear your voice and no matter how dark my situation — no matter how absurd you look in the current fashion — I just…feel happy again.”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and lifted his eyes — hopeful, fearful, vulnerable — to meet Crowley’s.

“Oh.” Something more was probably needed. “Yeah.”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

“Well.” Aziraphale’s eyes dropped and he turned, trying to hide his expression. “Yes. I thought you should know.” He ducked his head and hurried through the gate. “Where — where is this creperie? We should try to arrive—”

“Me too.”

Crowley hadn’t meant to say anything. His mind was still ten minutes behind, struggling to catch up, but the pain on Aziraphale’s face hurt him like a blow to the chest.

The two words stopped Aziraphale in his tracks.

“I…I think about you, too.” Crowley stepped halfway through the gate, gripping the bar so tight it began to bend. “When I wake up, or fall asleep and…and away from you, here, I just…I miss you…but you — you idiot, with your crepes and your — your execution and…and then you smile and I just…” Blast! How could Aziraphale be so eloquent? Crowley swallowed and started over. “Look, m’trying to say…don’t think I can deny you anything. And. If that’s love…yeah. Me too.”

All this time, Aziraphale stood perfectly still, his back to Crowley. But now he turned, blue eyes furiously blinking. “That’s…ah…thank you. I know y-you hate being thanked but…” Aziraphale took one step closer, then another, until only inches separated them. “Thank you.”

“Nh.” He could so easily reach across that last bit of distance. Crowley didn’t know what that would accomplish, what he’d even do, but he wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything. “Now what?”

“I don’t know.” Aziraphale’s gaze fell. “It…doesn’t change anything, does it? You’re still a demon, and I’m—”

“I don’t care,” Crowley hissed, shocked at the fervor in his own voice. “We don’t need to play by their rules. We could — run off, or—”

“We can’t. Crowley, both our sides would — they’d find us, they’d destroy you.”

“I’m willing to risk it.” He reached for Aziraphale’s hand.

“I’m not.” The angel jerked back, putting more distance between them, eyes wide. “Crowley that’s — that’s not a chance I’m willing to take. I’m sorry, but no.”

“Fine,” Crowley growled, pulling away. “What do you want?”

“I want…” Aziraphale shut his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I want a shop in London, where I can surround myself with books and foods and everything I enjoy. I want my superiors to trust me, let me bring good into the world my own way, without sending me all over Creation at a moment’s notice and — and punishing me for a few miracles to make my life easier. I want us to go to plays and gardens and balls together, not for clandestine meetings but because we enjoy them. To be openly in each other’s company, without fear of reprisal. And…I’d like you to visit my shop and bring me flowers or sweets. I’d serve my very best wine and…we’d talk all night about…everything and nothing. And laugh together.” His eyes fluttered open and for the first time Aziraphale looked sure of himself. “I want what we already have. Only I want more of it.”

This time he didn’t move as Crowley reached out. Long fingers carefully adjusted the rosebud, standing it straighter in its buttonhole. “Yeah. I…I’d like that, too.”

“And you don’t want anything…physical?”

Crowley snorted. “M’not a human.” But he wondered if Aziraphale’s cheek was as soft as the rosebud’s petals. “I’d like to touch you. Your hand, your face. Your wings. Hear your voice as I fall asleep. Feel your fingers in my hair. Is that…too much?”

“No.” Aziraphale smiled gently. “That sounds perfect.”

“Maybe…” Crowley fidgeted with his glasses, shuffled his feet, but refused to step away. “If we’re careful…”

“The Arrangement is already dangerous enough. You must understand…”

Crowley closed his eyes. “I do. Nothing changes.” Except there were words now, to the feeling he had when he thought of his angel. And that changed everything. When he looked again, Aziraphale nodded, as if he felt the same.

“Right then.” Crowley circled around Aziraphale, sauntering back to the main road. “Let’s see if these crepes are worth risking the guillotine.”

“My dear fellow,” Aziraphale easily kept pace. “One bite of true Breton crepes will silence your doubts forever.”

“Breton, huh?”

“Oh, yes, far superior to any others.”

“If that’s so,” Crowley smirked, remembering Aziraphale in his cell, “s’a wonder you came to Paris. Particularly in such a…controversial outfit.”

“The city has…certain other attractions.”

Something warm and heavy wrapped across Crowley’s shoulders, invisible to his eyes, though he could feel the individual feathers tickle his neck. Aziraphale strolled beside him, hands clasped behind his back, eyes forward, as if nothing were amiss.

Carefully, trying to look natural, Crowley scratched his shoulder, brushing his knuckles down a long flight feather, softer than any mortal bird’s.

Aziraphale smiled ever so slightly and flexed his wing, holding Crowley a little more tightly. An embrace that no one could see, no one could know about, except them.

“Dunno,” Crowley said. “Still seems pretty risky.”

“Yes. But I’m an incorrigible old fool. Sometimes I can’t help myself.”

“Suppose I can understand,” Crowley said as he extended his own wing, wrapping it around Aziraphale’s waist. The angel’s composure broke as he wiggled, burying himself in invisible feathers. Crowley smiled, heat running through him, a warm spring day after a long cold winter. “After all, we’re not so different, you and I.”

[1] De Amore, Andreas Capellanus, c. 1190

So happy to finally share this!

[jeonggukkiepabo]

CRYSTAL SNOW ❄ MYG

SUMMARY: Christmas has always been a stressful time for Yoongi: buying presents, decorating the tree, baking cookies, you name it-Yoongi does it. It wouldn't be so difficult if Yoongi had someone to help him, but all he has left in his life is his beautiful daughter Ara.But maybe this year, he won't be all alone.

GENRE: christmas fluff  ❄ a bit of smut

WORD COUNT: 7,3k

WARNINGS: f l u f f, single parent yoongi, kindergarten teacher y/n, oral, satoori, domestic christmas vibes :(, mentions of death

AUTHOR’S NOTE: the secret collab is finally here! thanks @kimtaehyunq​ for letting me join💞 i’m so excited to read the other fics as well! & thank you Mags for doing this amazing banner I think this is the prettiest banner I've ever had. 🤧 Tysm love💞

MERRY CHRISTMAS

People usually say she looks a lot like her father, but all Yoongi sees in Ara is his wife. Wherever his daughter goes, his wife's ghost follows, the memory of his teenage love and the wonderful years they spent together until she left their lives.

Min Dasom died almost one year after Ara was born, her death coming too sudden for anyone to bid their last goodbyes-leaving her husband and baby heartbroken and alone.

It was awful, Yoongi won't be able to forget that one night the police called him, telling him that his precious wife drowned in the ocean during her monthly trip to the beach with her friends. 

Ever since that call, Yoongi has never stepped near a beach again, never felt hot sand between his toes again, never went swimming again.

It was hard, being a single parent and Yoongi was tempted to give up many times, but seeing Ara grow and bloom into the beautiful girl she is now, Yoongi is beyond thankful that he survived the pain and sorrow.  

He never drowned his thoughts in alcohol because his sunshine always looked at him with her sad little eyes, almost as if she knew what he wanted to do and hugged his legs tightly until Yoongi set the bottle away and picked Ara up and spent the night cuddling her.

Things got easier as soon as Ara was old enough to finally go to kindergarten, allowing Yoongi to work more hours and on a daily basis again. It's not like he needed a lot of money, it's just that Yoongi needs to work. 

He's used to working all the time, he's always been-because working doesn't give him time to think about the tragedy that is his life.

Money wasn't an issue for the Min family, Yoongi used to be one of the most successful pianists and producers in South Korea, but he gave up on that as soon as Ara was born, just to have time for his family.

His friend Hyunjin offered him a job as a songwriter and composer at his own label JinHit Entertainment. 

Yoongi could work from home whenever he wanted and needed to, but the studio Hyunjin set him up was way better and filled with new technology that Yoongi loved playing and experimenting with.

The acclimatization to her new daily routine wasn't easy for Ara because she wasn't used to having women in her life-until now, it has always been Yoongi and Ara. They ended up switching kindergarten two times before Ara came into the one that you've been working at for a while now-instantly falling in love with you.

The first few days with your new reference child we're quite… interesting because the little girl was full of action and so curious about every little thing in the room that you couldn't sit still and talk to her father for a while because Ara grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the next game she wanted to play.

Her father, Min Yoongi, sent you an apologetic smile as he watched you play with his daughter from a distance, giving you time to get used to each other and build a bond. You winked at him as you took a seat next to Ara and started to explain the rules of the board game to her-impressed about how well she was understanding them.

It didn't take Ara a long time to send Yoongi home, waving him goodbye and pressing a loud kiss onto his lips. "Go and work, Appa! Uncle Hyunjinnie waits for you to make good music!"

Yoongi looked at her with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're telling me to leave? Just to go and work? That is rude, princess."

You giggled and hugged Ara as she ran over to you, Yoongi long forgotten.

"Would you like to bring your dad to the door, Ara? I think he might be sad if you won't. Remember: he won’t see you for a few hours and you don’t want your dad to be sad during lunch, right?"

Ara giggled but nodded nonetheless and grabbed Yoongi by the hand. "Hurry!"

Yoongi looked at you in shock, desperately trying to hold in his laugh. "I think you gave me Ara's evil twin instead of my sweet little princess! Where is my nice girl that always kisses Appa goodbye?"

You shrugged your shoulders playfully as one of the other kids asked for you to help him with building a big tower out of building blocks. "Have a nice day, Mr Min. Oh and make sure you won't forget about our appointment on Thursday! I don't think it'll take longer than an hour, it's just to talk about Ara's development so far."

Yoongi was one of the few parents that were always punctual, not even a minute too late-and the only parent you've never felt any kind of rage towards. Not only that, but he attended every kindergarten fest, always prepared little cupcakes for Ara's birthday to bring with her to kindergarten and share with her friends.

May was rolling around quickly and you were as eager as always to craft some little gifts for the children to give their mothers. 

You prepared some candle wax and melted it so the kids could fill it in plastic forms and add glitter and scent to their preference, just to have a nice little gift to give. 

Most of the kids had fun, some of them were a bit grumpy because they got glitter all over themselves, but there is one little girl pouting and trying not to cry in front of them, not even touching the wax.

Ara.

It breaks your heart every time, knowing that Ara's mother died years ago and that she probably had no other woman in her life because you’ve already heard that her father works quite a lot. 

Squatting down next to the little girl, you gently pinch her stomach just to hear her little giggles. 

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't you want to make a nice candle?"

Ara looks up at you, one single tear slipping out of her eye. "I don't have a mom, so no candle for me."

You coo, playing with Ara's hair as you stand up again, leading her towards the crafting table.

"That doesn't matter, Ara. I think your dad will be happy to get a candle too! We can pick a different color than pink, what do you think does he like the most? I’m sure we will find something!"

Ara taps her chin, smiling slightly as she thinks about Yoongi's favorite color. "Black! He wears black clothes! Always! Do we have black glitter, Y/N?" 

She scrunches her nose at the first few oils, but one scent really lights up her face. "This smells like Appa! Can we use this?" 

"We do, I didn't put it on the table because usually nobody wants it so it sits on the shelf, all by itself. I think the glitter finally deserves to be used!" You smile at the kid, grabbing the small container of glitter from the shelf and handing it over to Ara.

"We do have a few scents, would you like to smell them? Choose whichever you think smells the best and we can put a few drops in the wax,' you offer the bowl of different oils to Ara and help her open the lids.

Ara holds up the little bottle of rose oil and you smile to yourself. Black roses, that really seems to fit the impression you have of Mr. Min.

"Of course. Now, let's mix the glitter with the wax and we can put it into the mold. Alright, now stir it while i put in a few drops of the rose oil, okay?"

You guide her through the process, talking to her and listening to her rambling about the piano lessons Mr. Min gives her on a regular basis, just because Ara wants to be like her favorite man in the world.

"He is a great dad, Ara. You're so lucky to have him, I know that he must be sad sometimes too, but you're such a sunshine and help him as much as he helps you," you hug her from the side, enjoying the way Ara leans into the hug as well.

"I want a mom, but Appa is almost like a mom! He lets me paint his nails, goes to ballet with me and always bakes princess cookies for our tea parties!"

Ara giggles as she dips the wick into the liquid wax.

"Appa needs a woman to love, the only dates he goes to are work-dates with uncle Hyunjin," she says.

And yes, you think so as well.

One day around September, you decide that it’s definitely hot enough to prepare the blow-up outside pool for the kids, allowing them to change into their swimsuits and let them play around, even adding some bubbles to the water to let them experiment.

Mr. Min smiles at you, his gums fully showing and you can’t help but smile as well as you hear his words.

“And I think there’s no job that you could do better than this one.”

You’re sitting next to the pool on a bench in the shadow, reading some books to those few kids that don’t want to hop into the water as Ara jumps out of the pool.

“Y/N, come inside as well, it’s so nice!” She jumps up and down, her wet ponytail dripping onto her shoulders.

You pout, pointing to the kids next to you. “I can’t, you know that some of the kids are still afraid to go into the water with so many other children around. Maybe next time. Now, go and enjoy it, it’s super hot and I don’t know when autumn will come around and surprise us with bad weather!”

Ara nods quickly, hopping back into the water and continues splashing some water around with her friends, but she glances at you every few seconds. Then, she whispers with her two best friends before all three of them nod as they look at you.

Suddenly, they run towards you, surprising you with wet hugs and loud giggles, leaving your white summer dress almost see through.

Suddenly, there’s someone clearing his throat right behind you and you wish you could sink deep down into the pool once you see that it’s Mr. Min. 

“Girls!,” you can’t help but yelp, the cold water causing you to jump up from the bench. Yet, you laugh with them, the cooling really helping you with the heat.

“You can’t just do that, Ara. Look at my dress now, you can almost see through it, you’re lucky that the parents won’t come in within the next two hours, otherwise they would see me like this,” you try to look stern, but to be honest: you would have done the same if you were Ara.

“Ara, why did you do that?,” he asks with his calm voice and tries his best not to look at your hardening nipples under the dress. 

Ara’s bottom lip trembles as she looks at you with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just thought it would be funny…”

Mr. Min turns to you and bows slightly. “I’m sorry, she shouldn’t have done that. And well, I came to pick her up earlier because we will visit her grandparents over the weekend. I should’ve informed you earlier. Is there any way I can help you with your… erm, dress?”

Mr. Min nods at you, picking up his-still wet-daughter as he looks you up and down slow enough to leave goosebumps all over your skin once again. 

You blush, shaking your head as you grab Ara’s clothes and hand her to her father.

“It’s alright, Mr. Min, it’s not your fault-and a water fight is too much fun to just not do it, right, Ara? It’s sunny enough so I’ll just bring the bench into the sun and I’ll be dry soon enough! I hope you’re having fun with your grandparents, Ara! Have a nice weekend, Mr. Min.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Min, really. You don’t know how many children happen to call one of us mom without realizing it. It’s nothing too wild, I’ve gotten used to it and I think especially in Ara’s case… It was supposed to happen, you know? I mean, I don’t want to intrude on your private life, but I suppose you’re not seeing another person and Ara isn’t growing up with other females, so she takes those she sees here as a female person to bond with, you know?”

“Thank you, mommy! Oh… I mean Y/N..,” Ara quirps as he turns around in her father’s arms, even though it doesn’t look like she’s really sorry at all.

“Ara!” Mr. Min gasps as he looks at his daughter. 

Yoongi shakes his head. “I haven’t seen another woman ever since my wife died. Ara is the only woman in my life, the only one I give all my love to. She deserves it,” he sighs. “But you’re right, I think another female person would really help her with growing up. I just don’t want to introduce her to some random woman I might not even want to spend the rest of my life with. Is this egoistic?”

His honest words hit you, knowing how lonely he must be, all alone with his little girl and a bunch of work he has to do. “It’s not, Mr. Min. You don’t have to date just because you think it would be the best for Ara. There are many single fathers that raise their kids perfectly fine and I think you’re one of them! Ara never tells bad stories about you and I think you’re doing a really good job, spending all of your free time with her and allowing her to experience so many fun things. I’ve met so many ‘happy’ families that didn’t even manage to pack breakfast for their kids, so really, don’t break your head over something like this! I’m happy that Ara accepted me so much and that she always comes to me whenever she has a problem. This is why I chose my job.”

Over the next few months, Mr. Min is all that’s on your mind, even though you know how unprofessional it is, but he’s even kinder to you than he’s been before. You usually have a small chat with every parent whenever they bring or pick up their children, but Mr. Min makes sure to always catch you and ask you about your day, if there’s anything new in your life and you can’t help but ask him about his work and the songs he’s been working on as well.

“Ah, it’s really stressful right now. I’m working with this band that’s debuting soon and we have to prepare and finish the entire album I wrote about five songs for. They’re really good but still so young, I think the oldest is 16? Or was it 17? Whatever, that’s like ten years younger than me! I think I’ll grow grey hair soon when I keep on working with such young idols,” he sighs playfully as he helps Ara to put on her shoes and jacket. 

“I mean, you’re not that old, Mr. Min. Don’t worry-as long as you keep that handful smile you will look like you’re straight out of some perfume poster. But I’d love to listen to one of your songs! I mean, if you’d let me,” you smile with honesty as you hand Ara her backpack. 

Mr. Min shrugs, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he opens his Spotify account. He types something in and turns the screen towards you. AGUST D, it says. You scrunch your eyes at the name, trying to remember where you’ve known it from, but it doesn’t ring a bell right now. 

“I’ll make sure to listen to some of your songs, I hope they aren’t too sad though, I prefer my music to be more… pop and rock?”

You cringe at your own words, hoping that the man knows what you were trying to say. 

And fuck, you did like it. Turns out that AGUST D wasn’t some softie that plays guitar lullabies, no. 

Yoongi cracks a grin, then winks at you playfull before he takes Ara’s hand after she said goodbye to you.

“I think you’re going to like it.”

AGUST D seems to be one of the best rappers in the music industry that you’ve ever been listening to. He sounds so aggressive and fast that you needed to listen twice to some of his songs to understand what he was saying, but you ended up adding much more songs into your playlist than you’d like to tell him.

But you did tell him.

“Oh, I’m not doing that crazy rap thing anymore. It was a phase, I guess. By now, I use the name to help smaller musicians and trainees, produce their songs and write their lyrics. It’s better to do so with a bigger name, but AGUST D died a long time ago, I guess I killed him.” Mr. Min says the next day.

"I mean, as long as you keep all of them on Spotify, I'm alright with that. Most of those songs match my aggressive driving vibe and I can't imagine driving to work without it." You try to joke before you realize what it must've sounded like. "Oh lord, I didn't mean it like that!" 

You blush, trying to hide your reddened cheeks in your palms, but Mr. Min just laughs it off.

"Don't worry, I get what you mean. I usually play Love Talk as soon as i leave this building."

He even has the audacity to wink at you before he leaves with a grin, causing Ara to coo.

"Appa really likes you if he teases you!"

And the teasing goes on and on, there’s almost no day without a snarky comment from Mr. Min or a sarcastic comment from you-but neither of you takes those words to heart because that’s what you need in your lives, someone to laugh with, someone to make jokes with.

Even though there are plenty of other children in your group and so many parents you talk to daily, the only one you’re happy to see in the afternoon is Mr. Min.

The summer is long gone and fall said goodbye a few weeks ago, December came around and your little crush on Mr. Min isn’t as little anymore-and you can’t help yourself but wonder if he might be into you as well. You’ve shared a few noons talking about Ara’s development and if she’s ready for school next September, but most of the times you didn’t talk about the girl for more than thirty minutes before one of you switched the topic to something more private as the man leans closer to you and locks his gaze with yours.

You’re not as nervous around him as you were before and you can feel him starting to open up towards you as well. Yet, you’ve never met outside of the kindergarten, knowing it would be way too unprofessional and you’d never want to ruin the wonderful bond you share with Ara just because you’re desperate to jump into her father’s lap and call him Daddy too.

You’re not one of those women to go into a club and have a dirty one night stand with a random stranger, but you’ve been too busy to actually go and meet people, so you’ve kind of gotten used to being alone, even though you’re really missing late night cuddles and Disney marathons.

It’s Saturday afternoon and you’ve been strolling through the mall for a while now, looking for some christmas presents for your friends and family-but also wanting to treat yourself because work has been more than just exhausting lately.

You’ve been handling the entire group alone, having a lot more smaller children because new kids have been coming to kindergarten and having to deal with so many parents alone can be pure hell. Sadly enough you’re living all by yourself, only having a few close friends that don’t understand why you’re even doing this underpaid job and your last relationship crashed almost two years ago.

The mall looks amazing, beautiful christmas ornaments are hanging from the ceiling and there must be someone playing the piano somewhere because the soft melodic tunes fill the entire mall, reminding you of Mr. Min once again.

You just stepped out of a lingerie store, something you’re really passionate about even though nobody but yourself sees you in it, but you love the feeling of lace on your skin, love how beautifully the soft colors compliment your skin and love imagining Mr. Min ripping the soft material off you.

The small paper bag in your hand, you look around for another shop that might hold the next christmas present for one of your friends. 

“Appa, please! I already have a picture but we need you to have one too!”

You know that voice too well to ignore it, searching the area for the small owner of it, giggling as you found her. Ara and Mr. Min are in the Santa area of the mall that gives you the ability to sit on Santa’s lap and take a picture with him as you tell him your biggest christmas wishes.

But the little girl is not sitting on Santa’s lap, she’s trying to push her father towards the man with the fake beard, clearly wanting him to sit down on that lap.

You giggle, walking towards them just to find out what’s going to happen.

“Ara, I’m too old and heavy for poor Santa, I think he prefers girls your age-wait, no not like that. I think he likes boys and girls-ugh. You’re driving me crazy, princess. Look, there’s a few other kids wanting to have their time with Santa as well, why don’t we just leave and try to find some more presents from the giftshop here, hm?” The man tries to talk his daughter into leaving the uncomfortable situation, but Ara is as stubborn as ever-she always gets what she wants, especially from her father.

“But… I want you to have pictures with Santa too!” She pouts, looking over at the confused Santa before she hears your giggle. “Y/N!”

Mr. Min turns around, a shocked expression on his face and a soft pink tint on his cheeks.

“Oh, Ms. Y/L/N. What a surprise.”

You giggle even more, stepping closer towards them. “Hello Ara, good afternoon Mr. Min,” you bow slightly before accepting the little girl’s hug. 

“I see, you really want to sit on Santa’s lap, but Ara doesn’t want to let you because she’d be embarrassed.” 

Yoongi hums in agreement. “Horrible, those children. I mean, I just want a nice christmas picture with Santa, but you know how they are… right before puberty hits them.”

“Y/N, Appa doesn’t want to take a picture with Santa, would you sit on his lap and take a picture for me?” Ara looks up at you with her big eyes and like always, you can’t say no. Instead, you hand Mr. Min your bags-not thinking about the fact that one of them is from the lingerie store-before taking Ara’s hand and walking over to the smiling Santa.

The picture is quickly taken and not even five minutes later, Mr. Min hands you your bags, whispering, so Ara wouldn’t hear you. “I think the peach one will suit you the best.”

Ara nods and rips the bags out of Mr. Min’s hands to show you her cute dresses and bows while the man just stares at you with an open mouth. Did you really just say that to him? 

You gasp, hiding the bags behind your back but who are you to deny the fact that this man is the exact reason you stepped into the store?

“Thank you, I hope someone will get to see them before Christmas. It would be a shame to waste those pretty pieces for some lame mirror selfies,” you smile innocently before squatting down next to Ara. “Did you buy something nice yet?”

“Appa, we wanted to get hot chocolate, can Y/N come too please?”

Yoongi is speechless once more as he quietly follows his daughter and her kindergarten teacher towards the mall’s cafe-realizing that he shouldn’t have chosen his tightest pair of skinny jeans because somehow, they got quite uncomfortable as soon as you arrived.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his daughter before he picks up all the dresses that Ara tried to shove back into the bags. “If she wants, she’s welcome to join, but I think you should ask her first, maybe she is busy.”

You blush at the invitation, not sure whether to accept it or not-but you’re not one to decline on hot chocolate. Smiling at Ara, you nod. “Show me where to get the best hot chocolate, I’m craving something sweet and thick down my throat.”

He watches you as Ara grabs your hand and swings them around with a soft giggle, heart warming as he sees your fond smile.

Ara talks about you a lot-hell, Yoongi asks about you a lot whenever Ara doesn't want to talk about you but watch her favorite show.

It's unprofessional and probably not allowed, Yoongi knows, but Ara leaves for school in March anyways, so who cares? 

It's obvious to the both of you that you're interested in each other, the flirting and teasing coming to a point where Yoongi can't wait for another snarky remark of yours.

And now that he has the chance to sit and talk with you outside of your workplace, you just chose to buy a bag full of fucking beautiful lingerie (yes, Yoongi looked inside, no, he doesn't regret it).

Ara leads you into this beautiful cat cafe that apparently has "The best hot chocolate and bubble tea, but it's too cold for bubble tea… Can they make hot bubble tea?" as Ara says, earning a harsh "no" from Yoongi, because that's something he wishes for as well.

"Go find a place with Mr. Y/L/N, Ara. I'll get your order, yeah? What can I order for you?" Yoongi looks at you as he pulls out his wallet, giving you some time to read the menu.

"Oh, the candy cane hot chocolate, please! And please, as long as we are not talking inside the kindergarten, call me Y/N. I mean, you've seen my underwear, I think you deserve to call me by my name."

Yoongi blushes, nodding and rushes towards the cashier to order your drinks. You smile at the man, then at the cats-they look somewhat similar-before you sit down next to Ara who is currently petting four cats on her lap.

"They're adorable," you coo, "Do you have any pets?"

Ara nods with a big smile and hands you one of the cats, a pretty one with orange fur and big eyes. 

"I have a turtle! Gukkie gave it to me and Appa didn't like it first, but I love her!"

You enjoy the cat's purring as you gently stroke her chin. "A turtle sounds lovely, I hope you can show it to me one day."

"Oh, that won't be a problem, I can invite you for dinner and Appa will get shy and red in the face, but he wouldn't say no because he's super soft for-" "ALPACAS! I'm soft for alpacas, haha, here we go, three hot chocolates."

Yoongi appears with a pained expression as he places your hot chocolate right in front of you.

"Thanks, Yoongi," you smile at the man and Yoongi swears that his heart stopped beating for a second. "I'm soft for Alpacas as well."

Right after you all finished your drinks, Ara decides that it’s time to walk through the mall once more, just to make sure that Santa is still there and will take another picture with hot chocolate-filled Ara. 

“Did you enjoy your date with Y/N, Appa?” She looks up at her father as you walk towards the mall. Yoongi trembles, blushing brightly. “I’m pretty sure this wasn’t a date, Ara. Don’t assume things like this, it’s rude,” he mumbles as he gently pets her head to make sure she isn’t hurt by his comment.

You giggle, whispering loud enough for Yoongi to hear. “I really liked it, Ara. Your Appa can be funny if he wants to.”

The picture with Santa comes out pretty, even though the man groaned as two grown adults decided to sit on each of his legs, the bright smiling Ara kneeling in front of them. But it’s really worth it, because Yoongi’s smile never leaves his lips this evening, gums showing beautifully on the picture and you quickly make sure to get a copy of that picture as well.

Yoongi’s eyes widen. “So was this a… you know?” It’s endearing, how shy he suddenly seems to be. You’ve never seen him like this. Stressed, overworked and happy - yes. Shy and blushing? Never.

You nod with a soft smile as you lay your hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, I’d like that to be a ‘you know what’, Yoongi.”

You can't even tell when the two of you officially started dating, but you'll never forget the first kiss you've shared during one of your walks-thanks to Ara for snapping a picture of it. Yoongi's hands wrapped around your waist, eyes clenched shut and lips curled in a soft smile as fresh snow fell down on you.

Seeing Yoongi at work wasn’t as weird as you had expected it to be, it’s quite the opposite. He’s attentive and lovely, bringing you fresh croissants or donuts every morning or puting little chocolate for you and Ara in his daughter’s lunchbox.

He’s caring, picking you up after your shift to invite you to dinners and walks through the forest with Ara, because that little girl just loves walking in the fresh snow that has started to fall recently. She takes pictures of your footprints with Yoongi’s phone and makes him promise to print it for her to hang up.

“Of course I can, Ara. You’re already wearing your sleeping clothes and you’ve brushed your teeth with Appa, so hurry up and pick out the book you want me to read!” 

Ara grows closer and closer to you, until that one day where you stay over the Min’s house for dinner, she asks you to bring her to bed.

“Can she, Appa? I want her to read my favorite bedtime story to me! Please, Y/N,” Ara looks up at you with a pout, her beautiful eyes-that remind you of Yoongi-sparkling with admiration. 

That girl really makes your heart melt, combined with the soft smile that Yoongi gives you. And suddenly, you feel like you’re meant to be here, helping that man that you’ve grown so close to, helping the girl that lost her mother way too early and maybe even helping yourself with accepting that love really comes unexpectedly.

You gently tuck the soft blanket over Ara and place her favorite stuffie next to her as you smile at the girl fondly. "Sleep well, Ara," you whisper quietly, trying not to wake her up.

"Kissies, please," she mumbles sleepily and makes grabby hands towards you.

"Ara, I-" "Please," she whines and opens her eyes, tears starting to build up.

"Okay, it's okay, Ara." You swipe her hair out of her face before you plant a soft little kiss onto the girl's forehead. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Y/N. Will you be there tomorrow morning?"

Your smile fades, unsure if you really want to tell the little girl the truth. 

"Probably not, I have to get ready for work. You know that I love to wear dresses on Thursdays and I didn't bring mine. But we will see each other in the kindergarten!"

"Okay," she whispers before she falls back into a quiet slumber.

Yoongi has cleaned the kitchen in the meantime and poured more wine for the both of you to enjoy in front of the fireplace.

"She really adores you," he says as you sit down next to him, sipping the rosé Yoongi bought just for you.

"And I adore her. She's an angel. Thank you for allowing me to spend so much time with her, Yoon."

Yoongi blushes again, shaking his head. The greyish blonde hair got messier as the evening passed. "No, Y/N. You're the first mother-figure Ara has, I have to thank you in both mine and Ara's name. I know that dating a single father is a lot, but you're accepting my family so well… I never thought I'd find another woman in my life again. Ever since my wife died, it was hard for me to even look at other women, let alone build up something like a relationship with them because I always felt bad. But that's what she would have wanted for me. To love again, to not waste my last handsome days," his lips curl into a smirk before he shakes again. 

Then, his sharp eyes met yours and soften within seconds. 

"I… I don't know if it's the right time, we've known each other for two years, we've been officially dating for only three weeks, but I think I won't change my mind about it-no I know that I won't change my mind. I love you, Y/N. And I know that Ara loves you too."

You gasp, lips beginning to tremble once your eyes meet Yoongi's. "Yoongi…," you whisper before you place your glass on the table and basically jump onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"I wanted to be the one to tell you first. I love you so much, Yoongi. I've had this stupid crush on you ever since you saw me in that wet dress, ever since you've shown me your music. Ever since I've seen you being the wonderful father you are-and that's so sexy, you can't even imagine."

Yoongi smirks as his hands find their place on the curve of your ass. "Sexy, huh? Me, doing the laundry and cooking dinner? Or me walking Ara to kindergarten with the homemade lunch boxes? That turns you on?"

You laugh, hiding your face in his neck as you lean closer to press your lips against his ear.

"All of that-and the way that you love Ara with all your heart, that's maybe the sexiest thing about you."

The man groans as he grabs you even tighter. "I never thought that sweet talk would turn me on even more than dirty talk," he laughs shakily as he wiggles his hips slightly to get into a more comfortable position that won't suffocate his hardening erection.

You sigh, sit up and run your hands through his hair. "Isn't all of this too early? I always tell myself that I shouldn't fall so fast, but here I am, ready to go every step with you."

Yoongi nods before he presses a peck on your nose. "Same, but we have all the time on earth. Ara wants us to get married by tomorrow, but I'm sure she'll survive it if we decide to postpone it for a few weeks."

You giggle as you look over your shoulder to the fireplace. "Did someone ever suck you off in front of a fireplace? Isn't this the definition of Christmas?"

The man underneath you gasps in shock. "No, but… I mean, I… You don't… have to?"

Laughing, you slide out of his lap and onto the floor, thankful for the soft carpet. "I want to, bubs. I wouldn't do something either of us isn't comfortable with. I assume you're alright with it?"

"Of course, but… I guess nobody ever did it because they wanted to, but because they feel like they had to?"

You raise an eyebrow at him, obviously disappointed in his previous partners. 

"It's as much fun and pleasure for me as it is for you, believe me, Yoon. Now lay back and enjoy, yeah?" You give him a calming smile as you open his pants carefully, then sliding them down his toned legs.

You press kisses all around his thighs to warm him up to the feeling, knowing that it has to be overwhelming to have some that close after all that time. Then, you gently remove his boxer shorts as well, leaving him bare and proud in front of you.

You groan as you start to stroke his cock, earning a low growl from Yoongi. "So beautiful," you whisper, then you take him into your mouth, getting a feeling for the weight on your tongue before you start bopping your head. 

Yoongi tries to contain himself, knowing that Ara could wake up every second, but alone the sight in front of him could make him come with a scream.

Instead, he cups your cheek, feeling the bulge that he causes there. Another groan leaves his lips. 

You look up at him, smirking-or trying to, with a mouth full of cock-and leading his hand into your hair, using it to push you down even more.

Yoongi's eyes lighten up. "Really?"

You almost laugh out, but you're doing your best to contain yourself and nod, placing your hands on his thighs to stop whenever you can't take it anymore. Yoongi is long and thicker than the average you've had before, but it's a challenge that's worth it.

He pushes you down slowly, enjoying the hot warmth of your mouth and then your throat as he pushes in-surprised that you didn't really gag around him.

Spit trickles down your chin as he moves faster, thrusting his hips to meet the movements of his hand and enjoying the gurgling sounds you make.

He comes far to quick for his own liking, shooting his load down your throat with a quiet groan. "Fuck."

You giggle as you swallow what he gives you, standing up to sit back on his lap to kiss him.

"You're welcome." 

Then, before you can grab your wine again, he flips you around and goes on his knees in front of you. "My turn," he smirks, eyes shining dangerously behind his fringe. 

"Yoongi, I-," you try to say, but he shushes you with a sloppy kiss.

"I know that I have to, but believe me: I love giving pleasure more than receiving it."

You pout, hands running through his soft hair.

"I didn't shave…," you whisper, a bit ashamed because you didn't come prepared, not thinking that this would be happening today.

The man in front of you raises an eyebrow.

"Do you think I am a 15 year old, pre puberty fuckboy that cares about shaved pussies? It's natural, love. Even if you can't believe it: I grow hair too, nobody is freshly shaved every day. I don't mind that, okay? Now, stop pouting and let me do my work, will you? Can you be a good girl and do that for me? All you've got to do is lean back, open your legs, throw them around my shoulders and let me devour you."

His shameless words turn you on, you can't even deny it-especially not when your panties are that damp. So, you naturally obey and help him to remove your pants.

"I told you, peach is your color," Yoongi groans in his deep Satoori as he looks at your clothed core. The peach colored lace has darkened from your arousal and the man can't help it but press his face against the material, licking one bold stripe over it.

Nobody has ever done that to you, rather pulled them off in a hurry because they thought that body fluids were disgusting, but Yoongi didn't seem to mind as he gently bites your folds through the lace. 

"God," you moan in pleasure as Yoongi finally pulls your panties to the side and spits onto your pussy, making it even wetter.

You're a whimpering mess as soon as Yoongi's tongue is on you, flicking and playing with your clit, collecting your juices and spreading them all over your pussy. You've read about that before; men eating pussy like they're starving, but Yoongi is somewhat different.

He eats pussy like he wants you to always remind it, to make you obedient and never being able to enjoy anyone else doing that job.

He does it well-of course. His tongue is as fast as he's been spitting rhymes on his mixtape, and you're more than thankful for that.

He doesn't even get to use his fingers before your orgasm approaches you, strong waves of pleasure hitting you as Yoongi keeps on kissing and slowly licking you through your high.

Then, he grins at you. "Round two, here we go."

And this time, it's not only his tongue working wonders, but also his fingers stroking you on the inside until they found your spot. 

You press your hands on your mouth to keep yourself from screaming out loud, hips bucking wildly as you come for a second time within less than ten minutes. And again, Yoongi guides you through it and softly caresses your stomach.

"Fuck, I love you," you pant as he comes back up and steals a kiss from you.

"I can't wait to have you in my bed properly," he whispers and takes a large sip from his wine. 

You can only agree.

You've started to spend the nights at Yoongi's more often, bringing Ara to work with you and helping Yoongi with her and the household whenever you can. Your relationship blooms beautifully and Ara is the happiest little bean when you're around.

Obviously, you spent Christmas with Yoongi and Ara as well, buying little presents and enjoying the comfortable atmosphere with the family.

Yoongi gave you a spare key to his house, so you're always able to visit them, spending the nights there and soon enough, you moved in.

❄❄❄❄

The Christmas after that, you surprised Ara with the adoption papers, telling her that now that she's in school and not one of your kindergarten kids anymore, she'll be able to finally call you Mommy (not that Ara minded before, you just felt weird and guilty about it).

And here you are now, preparing the huge breakfast for your third Christmas around, smiling at the ring that adorns your finger. 

"Smells fabulous, Mama," Ara says as she runs towards you and falls into your arms.

"Do you want me to help you with dessert, Mrs Min?" Yoongi asks as he presses a kiss onto your cheeks. You lean into his touch, shaking your head. "It's almost done. You can go into the living room, I'll be there in a minute to open our presents, bubs."

Yoongi prepares the fireplace, lightens some candles with Ara and lets his daughter hand out the presents. 

"I have one more for you, Yoon," you whisper as you hand him a small box.

"Oh? Can I open this first?" He tilts his head curiously, shaking the light box.

"Open!" Ara squeaks and sits down between her father and you. You nod with a fond smile as Yoongi lifts the top. Then, silence.

"Really?" He whispers with teary eyes.

"Yes, finally," you smile, "Ara, you'll become a big sister!"

Yoongi sniffs, hugging his family tight.

"And she'll be the best sister in the world. Merry Christmas, loves."

[mxtantrights]

past lives | 4

a/n: the response this fic has gotten has made me so happy thank you guys so much!! I really couldn't have expected it. anyways happing reading and just know you can always send in stuff about the story <3

“Big meeting! BIG! Conference room seven, five minutes do not be late!” your boss Erwin said.

So you finished the sentence you were revising and shut your laptop. You got out of your chair and brought along with you a notebook and a sweater. Conference room seven sucked when it came to insulation. It was like practice for Antartica. You hated it.

You pulled the knitted cardigan over you as you walked to the room. When you opened the door you saw one seat saved, the one closest to the door. You took it and set out your notebook.

Pens were passed around before you finally looked up at the person conducing the meeting. You eyes didn’t budge out of your head this time. And you think that was because you had been in the same room before. Even though this was far different. 

Bruce frickin Wayne cleared his throat to start the meeting. And you were sat across from him. Maybe you would’ve felt weird - or more weird- if you hadn’t been in the same room with him a couple of nights ago. Completing a mission for the league.

-

As you’re waiting at your table for Fallon to get your last drinks of the night, the waiter with the scar passes by. It’s so quick and no normal person would pick it up. He had flung the drive into your interlaced hands. With swiftness you caught it, opened your bag and put it in while pulling out your phone. 

You unlock your phone and send a quick reply.

package received

Fallon makes their way over to you with the drinks. They pass you yours, a fancy sounding cocktail thing. The menu was hard to decipher as all you ever relate cared for in a drink was a high alcohol volume. 

“What’s in this?” you ask.

They look over at your drink, “I swore I saw something clear in there so I think it’ll do you good.”

You smile. Taking a sip of the drink you taste the vodka instantly. It was mixed in between other kinds of flavors but not potent enough to drown the vodka. Which was good in your opinion. 

“Say if I didn’t know any better I would say a certain Wayne is coming over here.” they say.

You look up with the straw still in your mouth and it’s Jason. He’s shed the jacket and he looks really good. Or maybe you were drunk. Maybe both. Still he looked good.

He reaches your table and plasters a grin on his lips.

“So maybe I can be your gala groupie?” he asks point blank. 

Fallon almost chokes on their drink. You drop the straw back into the drink.

“Hmm, kind of presumptive of you to think I’d want a groupie.” you say.

He leans his face in closer, “I could be good I promise.” 

“I’m- gonna go and order our rideshare, unless you wanna...” Fallon trailed off. 

“Give me five minutes.” he says.

You eye him closely. He’s like a wolf. Showing you his pretty teeth, and you’re supposed to think he’s smiling. But really he’s showing you the canines, the things that will tear into you later on.

You’re not sure if that’s sexual or not.

“Two minutes, Fallon’s shoes are uncomfortable.”

“I bet I can make you blush in less than that.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You notice Fallon snicker to themself as they back away from what’s going on. This just give you more incentive to lean into his personal space. Something you didn’t think you’d do on the balcony. But this guy in front of you is just intriguing. Something about him seems deeper.

That’s not really the right word but you don't care.

“If you want-” 

He is cut off by a bussing noise. You know it’s not your phone because you can’t feel the vibration coming form your bag. Sure enough he pulls out his own from his left pant pocket. 

His eyes read over something and he sighs.

“uh-oh. I think your time is up Mr.Todd.” you tease.

He puts his phone back in his pocket and smirks ar you. You return the gesture. He sends you a wink.

“To be continued.” he says, and walks away.

You watch him shuffle though the crowd until he’s gone. It doesn’t take long for Fallon to make their way back to you. And when they do you take your straw into your mouth again.

“So sex with a Wayne is not a go?”

You finish off you drink and put it down on the table. 

“Fallon, if I didn’t know any better I would think you were trying to get rid of me.”

“Good thing you don’t know any better. Come on, let’s go to coat check and get out of here.” 

- 

You snapped out of the flashback to the gala. Daniel had finished talking about some of the new funded projects. Courtesy of Wayne industries. You thought to yourself how exactly this deal was made but then you thought against it. This is the richest man in Gotham, he doesn't just stay in one place.

You watched as Daniel pointed over to you. That was when you decided to pay close attention.

“We’re also going to have our Deputy writer produce a spread on the Wayne family. Obviously not too much but just enough to satisfy the public that they keep coming back for more.” He said.

Your eyes flickered to the man himself. He was already looking at you. What you couldn’t understand was, why did the Wayne family need an article or op-ed about them? Was there some bad rumor floating around? Are they trying to get ahead of something?

“You have a question?” Bruce Wayne- which is kinda weird and cool to you at the same time- asked.

“Sorry, I have the worst poker face. I’m just wondering why you and your family need a piece- or want it. But now I’m thinking that can be saved for the piece itself.” You said.

You added a smile after, out of manners.

He nodded his head. Then he thanked you by your first name. It felt weird too. Like he had wanted to say your name on purpose and this was his excuse. You tried to swallow down that feeling.

You pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. 

“Speaking of Ron is giving you full control over the piece. So no need to clear anything by him, he trusts your instincts and vision.” Daniel added.

You nodded a bit surprised. It’s not the first time that Ron, your boss, had given you total control. But those had been pieces or columns about things or places. Not people. Especially not a spread about the most important person in Gotham and his family. 

Daniel called the meeting over not long after and everyone began to leave. You grabbed your notebook but were stopped. Bruce Wayne had called you by name again and asked you hang back.

The words ‘hang back’ coming out of a billionaire’s mouth was weird, because it was addressed to you. Nonetheless you stayed after everyone, including Daniel, left.

When the door closed behind Daniel you turned to the only man in the room. 

“Hi Mr. Wayne.”

He put his hand up, “Oh you can call me Bruce.”

“You’ll probably have to correct me so that I can remember. What can I do for you?” you asked.

“Seeing as this is a family piece, I wanted to let you know that the whole family will be available this coming Friday night.” he said.

“Great, did you have a place in mind?”

“Would my place do?”

You stopped all your efforts to gulp. His frickin masion- manor it’s called the manor. Oh wow, you were really smoozing with rich people. At least the Wayne’s didn't seem to be the snobby or bratty type. 

You won in that respect.

So you nodded along, “That’d be good.” 

“I’ll send for a car,” he said and then he took out his business card, “Just get in contact and it’ll all be arranged.”

“Right.” you said.

You took the card. Which you thought meant the conversation was over. Yet Bruce Wayne did not bulge from his spot. You thought, maybe you should appear more nervous to move things along. 

Turned out you didn’t have to. He excused himself and left the room. It was almost as if he wasn’t there in the first place. The only piece of evidence that contradicted that was the business card in your hand.

-

It was way to cold to be running errands this late. And without material covering your legs. Your outfit and the trench coat Fallon let you borrow was only equipped for balcony breezes. Not harbor ones.

Still, you will make do. The sign coming up above your head read Gotham Harbor which wasn’t a port of any kind. It was a bookshop on the Harbor. The number 45 the building number. 

Was that a trick too?

The lights were still on, even though the close sign is turned. You push open the door and it gives way. This is the right place. You make sure to close the door softly. From the back you can hear movement. 

You walk up to the counter where the bell is. Without a second thought you take the flash drive out of your bag and place it next to it. Then you ring it. You do not wait for the person in the back to come out front.

Instead you leave the way you came. Softly you end up back on the street and begin your walk a couple of blocks up. It was best to catch a cab a distance away as to not be easily traced. 

As you were walking, a black SUV pulled up next to you. You were walking with traffic, and there was practically no other cars on the block. You knew exactly who it was.

The window rolls down.

“Raʼs al Ghul, what a surprise.” you say.

“You passed.” he answers.

“Great. Any details you wanna share?”

“In time, Nyssa says hello.”

“Don’t.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

[softyoongiionly]

Bunny Do

You and your husband live in a cottage together in the forest.

Welcome to a day in your life.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, slice of life au, domestic au, DO I EVER WRITE ANY OTHER KIND OF JUNGKOOK? No. I have a problem

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Well hey there. Look it’s Aqua, back with ANOTHER Jungkook domestic au. Seriously someone needs to stop me. This is just excessive at this point. Anyways, I freaking love you. Yes you. Hi, I love YOU. Ok bye.

this fic is dedicated to @bulletproofbirdy​ whom I love with my whole entire heart. The war has begun.

IMPORTANT: Please check out this link and do what you can! All lives can’t matter until black lives do. 

https://softyoongiionly.tumblr.com/post/621111679997050880/jakegyllenhaals-here-is-a-carrd-for-blm-here

Warnings: swearing, Jungkook abs, smut (18+ only plz)

Chaos is not something you’ve been apart of for quite some time.

You traded in your busy life of hustling and turned away the bustling city you were born in to retreat into what could only be described as paradise.

Sure, the bugs can be a bit overwhelming and mating season amongst your animal neighbors doesn’t provide the most serene of soundtracks but, it was home.

Home is now a small cottage nestled into the forest at the base of Mount Iridescence.  

The exterior is made of smooth grey stone and the roof, which your husband laid by hand, is made from the finest oak the two of you could find.  

Of course, the exterior is covered in greenery, it wouldn’t be a cottage paradise if it weren’t.

The front of the cottage is adorned with a massive flower garden full of white daisies, pink roses, yellow tulips and tons of baby’s breath.  

Your porch served multiple purposes; housing the ridiculous amount of plants you’ve nursed, providing shelter to the occasional racoon or squirrel and, allowing you and your husband to watch the sun kiss the crest of the mountains every evening.  

The interior of your cottage was intentionally simple. Other than your husband’s many homemade ceramic pieces, the main source of décor was of course, more greenery. White linen, chocolate colored clay and, delicate lace also accented the inside of your home.  

Behind the cottage was essentially a small zoo, complete with a dozen chickens, a handful of geese, a cow named Jezabel, a llama named Su and, two baby bunnies named Floof and Tokki.  

Beside the animals was a garden that provided many of the ingredients you use in your kitchen every day; broccoli, cauliflower, pumpkin, green peppers, jalapeños, garlic, thyme, parsley, tomatoes, strawberries, grapes and carrots. There was a lemon tree or two as well but, the garden was consistently expanded as you and your husband learned new ways to be better plant parents.  

The point is, you had made yourself a nice little life in the forest.

An odd trip into town occurred every week or so as well as visits to friends and family but overall, life had resigned to the small nook in the forest.  

You had never felt more at peace...

“JAGI,TOKKI IS MISSING!!!”

Your husband’s urgent call rips you out of your gratitude as you begin frantically looking towards the direction of his voice.

“What??? Are you sure?! We locked their little home last night didn’t we?”

You’re now questioning every life decision you’ve ever made and whilst you’d like to be absolutely certain you’d never do anything to endanger the lives of your two tiny fluffy children, the fear in your husbands voice is unsettling.

Finally he whips around the corner, his black hair flopping about as he does, eyes wide with panic.

“I can’t find him anywhere- I went to feed them and I can only see Floof!”

“You checked under the patch of bedding in the left corner? He’s always hiding under there...” You insure, your breathing slightly increasing.

He seems to deflate beneath your question and, suddenly a rush of pink comes across his cheeks, “I- well...ok I may have forgot to check underneath the bedding...”

He rushes out the last bit of his words before hastily running to the backyard. Despite your inability to keep up with your freakishly athletic husband, your anxiety is fueling your movements to the point that you aren’t far behind him.  

“Excuse me Su, Jezebel! Ge-Get out of my way please!”  

You hear him try and reason with the ladies currently blocking his path as he nearly trips over some stray chicken wire.  

“Slow down!” You call after him, slightly out of breath as you see Jungkook halt abruptly in front of the baby blue hutch housing the bunnies.

“Hi Floof, sorry to bother you again I’m just gonna-” Jungkook murmurs into the hutch as you finally catch up to him.

Eagerly, you peak over his shoulder, heart wildly thrashing in your chest as you see him lift up the fluffy padding on the bottom of their home.

Sure enough, Tokki is sleeping soundly beneath the padding, his small caramel colored body curled into a little ball, completely unaware of the panic over his disappearance.

“Oh god...babe I’m so sorry, I just freaked out I thought- I thought I let him out because, I was the last one out here last night.”  

You can hear the tightening in his voice and it sends a thousands pangs of sadness into your heart.

Kissing your teeth, you pull him into your chest, laughing gently as you pat his back.

“Hey, hey it’s ok sweetheart. He’s right here yeah? You’d never forget to lock them up.”

His hands quickly find the back of your cotton dress, clinging to you tigher than you’d expect before tucking his face into your neck.

With a kiss he mumbles, “ ‘m sorry I scared you, I was trying to finish all the chores since you worked so hard on the garden yesterday.”

“You’re so sweet.” You peck at his cheek, “And wonderful.” Another peck, “And amazing.” Peck. “And cute.” Your kisses move lower so they are focused on his neck, “And I love you.”

With the onslaught of kissing, Jungkook snickers and playfully wiggles away from you as the sensations overwhelm his sensitive skin.

Despite the bit of tears that stain his cheeks, his brilliant smile is out to play as his hands find your waist to pull you against him.

“Soft.” He teases, sniffling slightly but the love in his eyes is unavoidable, “I love you too...”

“You really want to talk about who is soft right now?” You quirk an eyebrow, “You’re still crying...”

At this he laughs, his body shaking as he pulls you in closer to him, the scent of his eucalyptus body wash enticing your senses.  

“Shhhh...” He giggles, pecking the shell of your ear playfully, “Our children are safe, let’s just pretend this never happened.”  

You giggle and shrink away from his kiss before your body seems to snap back like an elastic band, your arms wrapping around his waist.

“Fair enough. As long as you promise to check the ENTIRE hutch next time.”  

He nods, smirking against the side of your head, “Deal.”

As you pull away from him, you feel a pang of regret, wishing desperately that you were able to stay near him for the entire morning.

Or the entire day...

Or the entire year...

But who’s counting?

However, cottages do not tend themselves and while you have the strongest urge to pull your husband into your bedroom, you know that there are chores to finish.

Jungkook’s eyes are on you, like he’s reading the script inside your head and as much as you’d like to convince him (and yourself) that everything in there is PG, you both know it’s not.

Newlyweds are like that right?

All passion, no pause.

Sex, love, touching, laughing, getting drunk off of one another...

It’s a daily occurrence.  

The honeymoon phase isn’t supposed to last forever but, you’ve been back from your honeymoon for 4 years now and you swear you want him more than you did when you first met him.

He giggles then, like a school-boy, his eyes alight with mischief.

“Stop staring at me...” He tucks a finger underneath your chin, “Weirdo...”

His soft cherry lips tuck into yours then, slowly unwinding you with his kiss as his fingers delicately cup your face.

Of course you reciprocate, drinking up every bit of his affection that you can, your hands sliding beneath the white t-shirt that hangs loosely off of his body.

Jungkook shudders as he feels your fingers brush over his lower stomach, arousal beginning to bubble up in his gut.

However, you aren’t going to let his snarky comment go unpunished so as you peek an eye open you say, “The hutch is still open...”

With a pop, he pulls away from your kiss with wide eyes to check on the bunnies. Once he’s satisfied with their well-being, he gently shuts the hutch and turns back to you.

“Rude.” He remarks, trying to appear unamused, “I was literally trying to make out with you.”

A laugh leaves your lips, “You can make out with me later...” You lean in to peck the mole beneath his lip, “We have chores to finish.”

“wE hAvE cHorES to FInisH...” He mocks you playfully and snickers as he narrowly avoids your hand as you swat at him, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding you’re right...just c’mere one last time...”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion but because you are completely weak for him, you allow him to tug you against his chest once more.  

“I love you Mrs. Jeon...” He vows but this time, you can practically taste the sincerity in his tone as he kisses the side of your head, then your cheek, then your lips, “I’ll see you in a bit ok?”

With nothing but warmth in your chest, you offer him a cheesy smile and give him a proper hug.

“I love you too Mr. Jeon...”

As the two of you part ways he turns around to continue his tasks revealing to you the sculpt of his ass within his black jeans.

And of course, you smack it.

Because, who the hell wouldn’t?

“Don’t forget the chicken coop!”

You yell as he jumps a mile high.

“YAH!” He calls after you, chuckling to himself, his cheeks reddening involuntarily.

The rest of the morning passes easily.

You harvest the various herbs and produce from your garden, clean the bathroom, organize the refrigerator after your grocery delivery and catch up on some of your reading before deciding to make some lunch.

Jungkook had been out all morning as well: tending to the animals, fixing some of the fencing, weeding, repotting some flowers and, mowing the front lawn.

He’s probably feeling the same level of hunger that you are so, you head out to the backyard to ask him what he’s in the mood for.

It takes a minute for you to find him but, when you do...you really regret that you did.

His white t-shirt has been discarded over the fence; the only left adorning his body are the dark wash denim jeans, his black work boots and, sweat.

Before he even notices your presence, he pushes his sweaty mop of hair away from his face, squinting at the ray of sunshine currently in his eyes.  

He truly has no idea how attractive he is.  

But you certainly do.  

And you feel like you’re going to faint.

His wedding band catches the sunlight and it reminds you, once again, that this man is your husband.

Which is a fairytale within itself.

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, wincing slightly before his hand slides down to rub over his stomach (abs), signifying in his own way that he’s hungry.

Which causes you to remember why you came to find him in the first place.

“H-hey babe!’” You call gently, your voice wavering.

Eyes widening a bit, he hones in on the sound of your voice, his face lighting up as he sees you.

“Yah! There she is! Are you all done?”

You smile, adjusting your clothes and wishing that your knees were kissing the soft grass of the garden.

Nodding, you step a little closer to him, trying to avoid full-on eye contact, “Yeah, I just finished up, do you want something to eat? I was gonna make lunch...”

“That depends...” He maneuvers his head to try and catch your attention, his body bending slightly in the process, “Are you on the menu?”

He has the audacity to throw a smirk and an over the top wink your way before immediately cackling as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up...” You shake your head, trying desperately to fight the urge to smile at him but when his face lights up with laughter, you have no other choice.

“Are you????” He insists loudly as he turns to sling his shirt over his shoulder, “I’m starving.”

The way he says the last part of his sentence is less funny as there is clearly some humor disappearing from his tone but, his charming smirk remains on his lips.

As he strolls over to you and, you almost have half a mind to retreat back into the house because, your ability to keep from ogling at him is slowly fading.

“I was going to make something with the broccoli I harvested this morning...” You insist, playfully turning away from him when he tries to lean down and kiss you.

"Kiss meee...” He pleads, pouting his pretty lips, the sweat still very present on his figure, “I’ve been working really hard.”

The way he whines at you is actually kind of hot and, coupled with his slick backed hair and his shirtless torso, it’s getting hard to bring yourself to remember why you originally came looking for your husband.

You oblige, kissing the salt from his lips, indulging in the musky scent emanating from his body.

Jungkook doesn’t like to be dirty but ever since moving to the cottage, he’s fallen in love with working outside and doesn’t focus so heavily on being spotless.  

“I came out here to ask you what you wanted to eat and, now you’re flustering me in the middle of our garden all over again.” You accuse, smiling against his lips, “You need to eat something, I didn’t see you take any fruit this morning.”

He rests his forearms atop your shoulders, grinning shamelessly, “If you weren’t so adamant on feeding me, I could be doing more than just flustering you.”

Jungkook really is an anomaly.

Hours earlier, he was crying into your neck over possibly letting out the bunnies and, now he’s using his charm and good looks to reduce you to a pile of lust.

Unfair.

“Did you not get enough last night? I’m pretty sure we were at it til after 1...”

Jungkook raises a brow, his grin never fading, “Did you? You’re the one pressing your thighs together right now.”  

“No, I’m not.” You lie but, to be fair, you didn’t even notice you were doing it until he pointed it out.

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m just standing here.”

“Babe, we’ve been together for how long now? I know when you’re in the mood. I don’t know why you can never admit it.”

Because you’re stubborn.

You take one of his hands, leaving one of his forearms over your shoulder as you press a chaste kiss to his knuckles, “I don’t know why you think I’m in a mood. I’m simply asking you what you want for lunch and, its quickly turning into an interrogation.”

It’s impossible to hide the smile on your lips because, he’s completely right.

You are in a mood.

You've been in a mood for hours now.

Jungkook smiles softly, unconvinced, his thumb coming up to brush over your bottom lip, “Ok. Whatever you say. I need to shower really quick; do you need help with lunch?”

Are you disappointed that he didn’t keep at it? Yes.

Are you now left flustered and horny without a solution? Yes.

Do you still get a sense of satisfaction that your husband still tries to pursue even after so many years together? Also yes.

“Nope. I’m good. It should be ready in a half hour or so...” You lean up to press a kiss against his cheek, “Love you.”

A half smile comes over his mouth then, his eyes watching your lips, “Love you too.”

It’s later.  

You and Jungkook are sitting on your sofa, nestled under a blanket, eating homemade ice cream sundaes. The fire is crackling beneath the mounted television that is set to one of your favorite films whilst the world slowly goes to sleep outside your windows.

Life is sweet.

Literally.

“Yours looks so pretty jagi, how did you get the whipped cream to do that?”

Jungkook’s lips are pouted, his head tilting to get a better look at the perfect swirl of whipped cream atop your chocolate ice cream.

“I just swirled the can around in a circle.” You giggle, tucking your spoon into the fudgy scoop of ice cream in your bowl.

Jungkook is not satisfied with that answer at all and he looks sadly at the haphazard lines of whipped cream on his ice cream.

“Mine’s ugly...” His pout deepens, pushing his spoon around his bowl.

He’s freshly showered, his hair fluffy and damp, his skin moisturized and smelling like mint and sandalwood and now he’s pouting???

This man does not let you breath.

“It’s not ugly! It’s abstract.” You assure him, kissing the pout off his lips.

He doesn’t move even as you kiss him, his eyes eagerly looking towards the kitchen, “I wanna try again...”

The laugh that leaves your lips is unavoidable as you follow his gaze to the kitchen, “You want to try to top your sundae again?”

He deadpans, “Absolutely. I need to get this right. It doesn’t look like a sundae.”

“You’re just going to eat it babe, it’s fine. We can practice whipped cream swirls tomorrow.”

You’re still laughing a little bit and he’s chuckling too but the determination never leaves his eyes.

“No, nowwww.” He whines before pushing his bowl onto the coffee table and bounding over to the kitchen.

He plops back onto the couch, slightly out of breath with the can of whipped cream in his hands.

“Ok-” He grabs his bowl off the table and hands you the can, “Show me the motion again.”

You shake your head, smirking fondly at him whilst you set your bowl down where his was.

“Like this...”

You point the tip of the can downwards at his bowl and make a circular motion with your hand, glancing up towards him to insure he’s watching you.

“Ok- Ok I think I got it. Here...”  He gestures to the can, uncapping it before meticulously following the motions you demonstrated, and just like everything else Jungkook does, it comes out perfectly, “Yahhhhh letsgetiittttttt!!!!”

This has you in a fit of a laughter, your chest filling with joy at the sound of his excitement.

Jungkook shoves his sundae into your view, “Don’t laugh! See? It’s so much better now.”

You wipe the tear that’s forming at the corner of your eye, shaking your head at him, once more, “Yes baby, it’s so much better.”

He starts laughing again too because your joy is infectious and he is weak for your smile.

“Thank you. Your expertise is appreciated.”  

With that, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “You’re prettier than this sundae though don’t worry.”

You’re all too eager to cuddle in close with him, admiring the way he looks in his gray sweat suit and admiring the way he makes you feel even more.  

“I’m glad you find me more attractive than the sundae Jungkook.”

He just smirks, getting to work on his ice cream and as he pulls the spoon out of his mouth, he shrugs, “I find you more edible too but, you aren’t ready for that conversation.”

Although you know there is an err of immaturity to his jokes, they still affect you.

They make you feel like a giddy teenager, sick from the pure lust and attraction you feel for your crush.

The comment also sends a rush of heat to your cheeks but, you don’t say anything, you merely kiss his chest and cuddle closer to him.

He is satisfied regardless as he enjoys the fact that he can still make you blush, even if its with cheesy jokes.

The rest of dessert passes in comfortable silence.

Jungkook finishes before you and, offers to take the dishes to the sink whilst you straighten up the living room before bed.

As you’re folding the cream throw blanket that rests over the arm of your sofa, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist.  

He wastes no time by slowly placing kisses down the side of your neck, his hands slowly up towards your breasts but stopping just beneath the swell of them.

“Is it that time jagiya? Can I make you feel good now?”  

His request is nearing a whisper, his lips brushing up towards your ear.

You lean back, resting your head on his shoulder whilst your hands settle over the tops of his.

After resisting him for the past 10 hours, you’ve grown tired of waiting.

“Yeah- it’s that time.” You whisper assuredly and at that, he spins you around, pressing his lips eagerly against yours.

His breath stalls a bit as your hands find his hips, squeezing gently whilst the two of you settle into the kiss.  

It’s getting too frantic for Jungkook’s liking as he has specific plans for you but, the way you’re kissing him and touching on him is getting to his headspace and he knows he has to stop you before you start kissing his neck.  

Because after that, he’s a goner.

“Come here...come sit on the couch for me.” He whispers into your mouth.

Jungkook has you on the couch seconds later, ridding you of your sleep shirt, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

Instinctually, your arms come around your stomach.

You’re not exactly insecure around your husband but, old habits die hard you know?

Jungkook immediately kisses his teeth, bumping your arms with his hand, “Ah ah...don’t hide from me please, I want to see all of you...” He assures you, as he has a million times but it never gets tiring.

To solidify his sentiment, he spreads your thighs gently and leans over and kisses all along your lower stomach, focusing on the areas he knows you don’t like.

He drags his nose across the band of your panties, looking up at you through his hair, “Did I ever tell you how beautiful I think you are?”

You giggle, brushing a hand through his hair to reveal more of his face to you, “I think you have yeah, once or twice...”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking at the sound of your giggle, “Once or twice? Aish that’s certainly not enough...”

“Maybe more than that...” You mumble, a shivering as he runs his nose along your panties again, one of his hands travelling up towards your breast, “All the time.”

He chuckles lowly, “That’s more like it.” He hums, pressing a kiss above your belly button as his fingers brush over your aching nipple, “It’s still not enough though...that’s why I married you. So I’d be able to tell you every single day.”

Your back arches against his hand whilst he slowly rubs over the sensitive skin, bringing it to a frigid peak.

“I love you.”  

It’s all you’re able to whisper at the moment because your arousal is starting to invade your ability to form sentences and he clearly has a plan to continue fucking with that.

“I love you jagiya...” Jungkook smirks, kissing over your stomach again before sinking onto his knees, “Can I tease you for a little bit? I wanna make sure your nice and ready for my tongue. That sundae didn’t fill me up enough...”

With a shaky breath you nod, parting your legs further but to be honest, you can’t imagine being anymore ready than you are right now.

“Close your eyes for me.”

You’re engulfed in darkness then, surrendering yourself to whatever he has planned for you.

“Thank you.” He kisses the top of your pussy, allowing his lips to linger there as he inhales, “Fuck- you smell really good. I know you’re probably ready now but, I really want to make you drip if I can.”

His comment causes you to inhale sharply, your nipples hardening almost uncomfortably as begins tickling his fingers up the length of your inner legs. His hands are so soft, so delicate as they touch you, stopping just outside the seam of your panties before travelling back up to your knees. Over and over again, he tickles your skin and eventually he starts tracing the edges of your panties with his fingers.  

“Touch your nipples for me. We’re almost there baby, just a little longer.”

He isn’t controlling you.

He isn’t in charge.

He just knows your body so well.

He knows how to make you feel good.

And fuck, if he doesn’t want to make you feel so so good.  

You follow his instructions, bringing your fingers to your nipples and rubbing back and forth over the tops of them, the sensations going straight between your legs as your husband continues his teasing.  

He slides his index fingers beneath your panties now, allowing the backs of them to brush against the lips of your pussy ever so gently, ignoring the throbbing knot of nerves that needs it the most.

When he’s done there, he focuses the tickling motion just on the outside of your panties, tickling his fingers up and down.

Over and over and over and over...

It’s getting a little overwhelming and, just when you’re about to say something he gasps in admiration.

“Oh look at that jagiya- you did it. You dripped all over your panties for me...”

He sounds genuinely proud of you and, you react to his praise instantly, your eyes opening to catch the smile on his lips.

The darkness in his eyes is obvious but there is mixture of adoration and deviance in there too.

He’s going to destroy you.

“Good girl...” He tickles his fingers over your panties once more before kissing the top of your kneecap, “Are you ready to get your pussy eaten now?”

Your fingers are still lingering on your nipples, your legs twitching at his touch.

You're completely enamored with him.

His praise is addicting and you never want it to end.

“Please.” You clear your throat, brushing a hand through his hair, “Yes please.”

He smirks, almost darkly as he kisses the side of your wrist, “My sweet girl...”

It’s the last thing he says before he’s slipping off your panties and getting to work.

He starts by kissing down the length of your lips a few times but, he knows that the time for teasing his over.

You feel his tongue between your lips then, searching for your swollen clit before getting to work on it.

As he licks you towards bliss, his hands are wandering all over you, squeezing at your hips, brushing over your breasts, rubbing at your stomach.

He wants you to know how much he loves pleasing you.

He groans at the taste of you, his dick hardening almost painfully, precum staining the seam of his sweat pants.  

“I- Jungkook I’m gonna cum.” You whisper, hands tangling in his hair as he focuses all of his attention on your clit, licking at it faster and faster.

“Mhm- I know, you’re twitching all over the place for me. Let me taste it beautiful...”

The pleasure launches itself into your senses then, taking up every square inch inside of your body.

You feel your toes curling against the carpet, the back of the couch damp with your own seat as you press your hips towards Jungkook’s mouth.

When it’s over, he’s kissing you and his eagerness accidentally causes him to bite your lip harder than he intends to.

“Shit sorry- I'm so worked up right now. Eating you out makes me crazy...” He whispers shakily and you actually feel for him.

His erection looks painful beneath the confines of his sweat pants and, you want nothing more than to suck the discomfort away.

“Me too- it's ok.” You assure him, brushing his hair away from his face, “Switch me. It’s your turn.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

He’s on the couch, tugging off his sweatshirt, which was sticking to his skin, his hair a mess as he leans back against the couch.

His body is beautiful; tan, toned and covered in little marks that are specific to Jungkook:

Little moles, various old scars and tan lines from working in the sun so much.

He is beautiful, it’s painful.

Chest heaving with excitement, he ushers your mouth to his “Please ride it, I wanna hold you.”

Who are you to refuse him when he asks so politely?

After yanking his sweats off, you’re sitting aside him seconds later, kissing his mouth like your life depended on it.

“Wasn’t our sex life supposed to go stale at this point? What are we doing right?” He jokes, his hands roaming over your back whilst you line him up with your entrance.

“There’s something in the water up here I think.” You giggle and he follows suit, nudging your nose as he tugs you closer to him.

“Oooh good theory.” He smirks and as you sink down on him, he locks eyes with you, allowing you to see his most vulnerable self.

In the midst of pure bliss...

His eyes widen as you engulf him, mouth opening at the sensation before his forehead falls against yours.

“Fuck.”  

Bracing your hands behind his head, you start a pace you know will lull him into bliss, all while keeping your eyes on him.

The gaze is so intense between the two of you but with the only sound being labored breathing and your skin slapping together, Jungkook snickers.

“Why does it have to sound like that?” He whispers, burying his face into your neck when you laugh.

“It’s not a cute sound.” You agree, giggling despite sinking feeling in your stomach.

Jungkook’s dick is a work of art and it’s more fulfilling than anything you’ve ever experienced.  

It’s going to make you cum again regardless of the unsavory noises filling the living room.  

Speaking of cumming, Jungkook seems to be getting further away from humor as you start to bounce faster on him.

“O-oh shit. Okay- fuck keep going jagi. Please keep going- like that...” He moans now, which is something he only reserves to inform you that he’s really close, “Shit. It feels so good.”

To solidify his fate, you usher his face out of your neck to lock eyes with him again.

“Yeah? I want you to feel good. Are you gonna cum inside for me?”

“Yeah...” He nearly chokes when you tighten around him, holding onto your hips for dear life.

“Let me feel it beautiful. Cum for me.”  

Using his own words against him was a dirty move but, Jungkook makes no complaints and follows your instruction.

His stomach caves in with the force of his breath as he spills himself inside of you, digging his nails into your hips as he does.

You’re not far behind and with a hand between your legs and your husband whispering encouraging words into your ear, you soon meet the same fate.

The two of you stay wrapped up in one another for quite some time before deciding to clean each other up.  

Straightening up the living room was a fruitless endeavor as your clothes end up abandoned on the floor anyway.  

You simply can’t be bothered as you usher a very naked, very happy Jungkook to your bedroom.  

Beneath the cool cotton sheets, he pulls you against his chest, humming contently.

“I wish I could marry you again- that'd be pretty cool.”

In the darkness, you smile rubbing your face playfully against his skin.

“Mmm no. This time, I’m definitely marrying you.”

He scoffs, “Uh no. You married me last time. I wanna marry you this time.”

“Um? You literally proposed to me last time so no, you married me. This time I get to marry you.”

He snickers, “Oh so are you gonna propose to me this time?”

“Yeah- then I’m gonna marry the heck out of you.”

The lack of light prevents you from seeing how big his smile really is but, you do feel the kiss he places between your eyes, “Fine. I’ll allow it but, only because I love you.”

You unknowingly return his smile, hugging him tightly, “I love you too.”  

[obsidianvibranium]

💜 About Me

I love animals, memes, mental health positivity, and analyzing the media I consume. Marvel and cat stuff makes up about 85-90% of this blog’s content, so if either of those things is a point of contention, then this blog is not for you. However I am consistent in my tagging so you could block either if you wanted to.

I do read fanfiction for Marvel and I have an entire “side blog” for it: @violets-library. I also have a side-side blog where I keep my queue of fanfics I would like to read at some point, and where you can send me fic recs: @violetsreadinglist .

I also have another side blog which houses all of the things I like that aren’t (and which I probably enjoy more so than) marvel; that blog is @sleepingthestral

This blog is movies, tv shows, literature, music, history, language, memes, more animals, comedy, franchises, and other stuff. I typically don’t post the same memes on both my main and this blog (unless its super important or super funny) so there is a difference in content.

If you would like to know more about me, check out the #about me or #im being called out again tags.

💜 My Love/Hate Of MCU

As to why I hate Disney (as the company is now) is explained here, here, and here. The gist of it is that disney is a factory producing mediocre stories with characters that have great foundations but little to no meaningful development. Disney’s policies and actions as of late regarding its treatment of employees, as well as its blatant disregard for artistic respect and consistency, means that I refuse to give them any of my money and that includes paying for Disney plus or seeing the movies in theater. They are a consumerist organization that is only focused on money instead of being focused on telling important stories that will bridge the gaps between various cultures and societal groups.

That being said, Marvel, which is owned by Disney, fits that same consumerist, money-making profile and I loathe it. They have great foundations for these characters but they refuse to do anything to maintain consistency between the individual hero franchises and the avengers/group films. An example of this is the overall plot for Steve’s character in endgame, but I won’t get into the details of that argument here. Another example is their inability to recognize Bucky as a hero and not a villain, and another, their treatment of Sam Wilson since he became Captain America (i.e. there’s no mention of him in any of the latest projects). Hence, my love/hate relationship with the mcu: a love of the characters but a hatred of the plots and the writers’ inability to maintain character consistency (which is why I read fanfiction).

This is also why I rant about it all the time and try to show what the characters should be like; you can find these rants and writings HERE.

However, there are some good things they’ve done within the characters, though they are few and far between, and those things, in addition to fanart and gif sets, are what I reblog if I’m not ranting.

💜 Navigation

I am a huge proponent for spreading kindness and genuine positivity, and all the posts that fit under this umbrella are marked: #spread the love

↪️ #mental health #self love

↪️ #mutuals (my besties)

➡️ #taggame

➡️ #picrew

↪️ #support your content creators

↪️ #writing positivity

All of my posts about our fellow creatures will be marked #animals.

↪️ #cats #cat

➡️ #kittens #kitten

↪️ #dogs #dog

➡️ #puppies #puppy

↪️ #birds

Et cetera…

Inter-species friendships and photos will be tagged #besties

And all animal posts are typically delineated #cute or #funny, sometimes both.

SEASONAL TAGS

#autumn vibes #halloween

#winter vibes #christmas

#spring vibes

#summer vibes

OTHER TAGS

#absolute fuckery #hilarious

Random stuff that I found funny.

#iconic #an icon #bad bitch energy #the salt

People/characters/animals that I admire for their sass.

#words of wisdom

Words to live by.

#true shit #so true

The facts, Jack.

#super important #signal boost #psa

Everyone should read/see.

Warnings: #tw anxiety #tw depression #tw eating disorder #suicide mention #tw abuse

Please block these tags if any of these things are triggering to you.

Lastly, anything can be tagged with #that’s my queue, which just means that it’s been queued and I didn’t directly reblog it right then.

💜 Marvel Content Navigation.