#i love you keeping in touch with people who I otherwise would have drifted away from

[crustaceousfaggot]

On one hand my phone is my bestest friend who protects me and shows me so many beautiful wonders. On the other hand I wanna throw this fucking lump of metal into the sun before it can erode my brain any more than it already has. Do you understand.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Logan and Wade with shy gn s/o please?

I’m going to assume separate unless told otherwise as poly relationship between Wade/Logan and reader would be cool too, but again unless specified I’m just going to assume it’s separate.

Wade Wilson/ Deadpool

Wade found your shyness adorable but found your reactions to his teasing and flirting.

And he abuses the shit out of that to his hearts content.

Mouse was a nickname that you were given almost immediately from the moment you met as you were quiet and cute as one too that to Wade it just fit you perfectly.

Wade; stop being so fucking cute!

You: huh?

Wade: you heard me! It should be illegal to be as cute as you! You should be locked up for the thing you do to me, but I’d rather keep ahold of the details because half of them might make you faint little mouse.

You: oh. 😶🫣

Wade will make it a tradition to take you by surprise, whether it be by randomly kissing you, hugging you from behind, playfully smacking your ass, it didn’t matter because your tendency to whine his name out in embarrassment ‘waaaaddde!’ Before hiding your face in his chest as he laughs and whispers teasing words into your ear that only makes your flustered state worsen.

Wade didn’t mind that you were shy, he really didn’t as he found it to be one of the many things he loved about you and wanted to protect, he didn’t want you to feel as though you should have to change to better fit him when he was more content with you being you.

He’s never had as much fun nor laughter in his life like he did when he was with you, and Wade considered himself lucky to have someone as soft and sweet as you that he often times thought you’d be better off without a fuck up like him in your life but he’d kept it to himself, disguising it with humour and teasing you instead.

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine

Logan finds you being shy amusing to say the least.

It brought his protective instincts out as someone as soft and shy and softly spoken as you would need him by your side 24/7.

He’s your guard dog, scary dog privilege in the form of a very traumatised man who’s became more familiar with pain and heartbreak than the tender affection and touches you give him.

So you found it best to be patient with Logan and give him time to become familiar with your love and affection until he felt ready to reciprocate in his own way. And Logan appreciated you for that and would let you know his appreciation by planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

Logan is a softy with you and while he’s quick to bite back at other people, with you he’s much softer with his words that they’re practically sweet murmurs whispered within your ear, as he held you against his chest protectively as you both drifted off to sleep.

He more or less acts as your voice whenever you felt discomfort, he’d could easily tell from your bodily language and would immediately step in, and voice your discomfort for you in your stead for Logan knew that you’d rather avoid conflict then delve headfirst into it like him.

However Logan would be the type to try and teach you ways to defend yourself and how to stick up for yourself when he couldn’t, this is probably out of his fear of losing someone dear to his heart again, but he wasn’t about to risk looking you when he could give you the tools to keep yourself safe while he was away.

He gives you his jacket, just make sure that the point gets across that you were his and not theirs, after all he’s a possessive man who doesn’t like sharing what’s his with anyone else.

He didn’t care about anyone else, you were the only thing he gave two shits about alongside Laura Kinney (x 23) other then you two, nothing else mattered to Logan. He just wanted you to be happy for as long as possible.

Side note: he’d love it if you and Laura got along, it’ll mean all the more to him.

[heli0s-writes]

kiss each other clean

a/n: Another Pacific Rim crossover because it truly is the best. Reader/Steve/Bucky with a side of Clint/Nat. I am writing comic Clint bc I love him most. Everyone is hot and sad and potentially poly. I am assuming this because of Reasons. Prompt is panic attack, "if only we could hold on" 1.8k words.

moonchild masterlist

Circumventing the Apocalypse makes Atlases.

Clint jokes that your Jaeger—Atlas Ronin—must have sired every Ranger in the Dome. Her namesake, after all, is both a reminder of the weight you carry and the outcome if you’re too weak to lift. The world splitting in half. Monsters streaming out.

Many Rangers lift their weight with so much grace and poise they could be trying out for pageants.

Not you, though. You’re a real crapbag when it comes to keeping your cool. You say that if you’re ever graceful about someone’s knife to your throat, you might as well be eating it. You’ve never tried to be any other way because it keeps you fighting, keeps you alive.

So when Ronin touches back down in the hangar with so much damage that you can hear her joints screech, hear Clint gurgling blood in your head, you’re worse than ever.

The medical staff refuse it when you limp alongside the gurney. They want you in a bed, hooked up to an IV and not plodding after Clint—not threatening to amputate a doctor if they touch him wrong.

But you tell them to fuck off, bursting through the swinging doors of the ICU unit, barely another word out before Barnes is wrestling you back, Rogers on his other side with his brow scrunched.

“Quit it,” Barnes hisses. “You’re making a goddamn scene.”

“Did you see him?” You jerk against them, your shoulder threatening to dislocate. “He’s got brain damage— he seized!” You swipe at Barnes, knee Rogers the side, but they’ve had enough experience handling you that they just take it in silence.

You’re a terror, according to Bucky, but you’re the only one who can make any sense of Clint when he’s drifting. And when Atlas is in play, she’s so close to unstoppable, Pentecost would personally punch out a senator before they shut your Jaeger down.

They need you. And maybe you abuse that power too much as you thrash around again, take your teeth to Bucky’s shoulder. Sometimes when you return to the hangar you’re still too worked up, can’t quite figure out how to leave the fight behind.

It’s much worse when Clint’s been hurt because you defend him how Steve defends Bucky— but Steve’s got some sense out of the field and you can only see red after drops.

They’ve never tried to make you be otherwise, though. It’s easy to see that 6’4” Clint Barton—who can shoot with immaculate precision, who’s more clever than anyone gives him credit for—has been beaten down so badly by something that he walks with a perpetual slump, makes jokes at his own expense like it’s the only way people will find him deserving of their effort. If they can punch him, at least he’s useful.

Steve had to coach that out of Bucky. After the war, he was always shrinking himself, and it killed Steve to witness.

Clint’s harder to reach. You’re soft on him, hard on him, begged and pleaded and threatened him, but he’s mulish and self-loathing. And in the end, all you could do was hold on, drift alongside him, keep him going one step into the future at a time.

You slacken, the adrenaline ebbing away and leaving you a boneless mess. Your face is puffy, eyes hot and wet with tears, gasping for air and digging your nails into your fists.

Steve keeps propping you up, holding you tight by the waist and leading you down the hall. “Come on,” he urges, “that’s enough.”

They take you back to your room, give you water and space and stick to the walls. Bucky crosses his arms, frowning. “You got me good.” He touches his chin to his shoulder where the indents of your teeth still remain on the cotton shirt.

You cover your eyes, the light too bright, the room too much, and manage, “You were in my way.”

“What’s not in your way?”

You shoot Bucky a hateful look and he only rolls his eyes.

“Clint Barton’s not the only person in the world. And he’s not a kid, either. Give him more credit.”

Your chin trembles. “If he dies, he’ll get what he wants.” You glare, bitterly disclaiming, “We’re all gonna fucking die, but if he dies—”

“Stop,” Steve says firmly.

You look away.

You’re not a dog, but you’ve been trained to follow commands for longer than you’d like to admit. And for as much honor as carrying the world can get you, you’re still following orders one way or another.

If you’re the only one who can make a lick of sense out of Clint, Steve’s the only one who can pull you in when you’re spinning off course. Bucky’s the only one who can keep Steve grounded when he’s tearing through the Shatterdome on a warpath to dismantle the Corps one dignitary at a time.

And the strings animating all of you are Pentecost, who owns some part of everyone for better or for worse.

“Natasha will be there when he wakes up.” He raises one eyebrow as if asking you to really make him explain the situation anymore. “He’s more than fine.”

You begin to argue, but Steve cuts his eyes to yours and you resign to rest your elbows on your knees, leaned over in a pathetic lump at the edge of the bed.

You feel sick to your stomach, sick to your bones. You love Natasha for being able to complete the facet of Clint you can’t and don’t want to— and yet still— want to.

“If you could be,” you start, swallowing the same lump that forms in your throat every time, “enough—” and the hiccups that threaten—the gasping fit that always takes over, whites out your vision--

“Get rid of that,” Steve says.

You put your face in your hands. You can kill a primordial beast. You can tear it to shreds and this is the thing that takes you apart.

Steve understands your pain. He used to want to be enough. Used to want to be the only person Bucky ever needed because didn’t that just make perfect sense? They were each other’s brains. Past and present and future and why would Steve let anyone else mishandle Buck? Get too close to him, trigger him into self-immolation? Steve knew all of Bucky’s haunted foxholes, all of his deepest secrets. Anytime Bucky wanted or needed, he could excavate or ignore with Steve. Why entrust him to anyone else?

But Steve learned that asking why he wasn’t enough was as helpful as decrypting alien speech. There was no language for it that he understood. He just didn’t know. But others could do it, and others could pick up what he couldn’t. And in the end, if Bucky needed another shitshow to love more than himself because it’s just wired in him or something, Steve wasn’t going to keep him from that.

Steve felt lucky enough that Bucky could love one shitshow in the first place.

Bucky pats his thighs and you grudgingly crawl into him, wilting on his chest. And this is where everything slots into place, all the things Steve can’t do, all the things Bucky is naturally good at. He can be terse and serious, make his impact known in a couple of phrases, but Bucky could just open his arms and handle the rest.

The three of you quiet, settling in.

“Sorry,” you offer.

Bucky gives Steve a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Whatd’ya think Tasha’ll do when Barton tries to run outta the med bay? Punch him back down?”

Steve hums, “You got the wrong person.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, “Guess that’s you, huh?”

You put your hand over his face in a weak slap.

“She’ll be peeling an apple,” Steve says, “And he’ll start getting squirrely.”

“And she’ll just point it at him.”

“That’s it.”

Bucky taps the top of your head. “Let’s go talk to her. You forget you like someone if you don’t see them for a while. You need to remember that you like Nat.”

“I do remember.” 

“Kissing her on the mouth when you’re drunk doesn’t count.”

Steve sighs from inside of his bones. It truly is astonishing how you and Clint can be the most effective killers inside of a Jaeger but take you out of one and you’re two college fratboys at best.

“Why do you think she chose Banner? I mean, Clint, you know? She could have picked Clint.”

Bucky touches your chin, tilts your face up to his, quiet and serious. “Do you think Natasha wants Clint in her head? Do you think it would be good for him? Would it be good for you to be in mine? Ask yourself honestly if it would be your first choice to be in mine.”

And Steve, more straightforwardly, “Do you want war?”

No, you don’t.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “You’re always right, whatever.”

Bucky wipes a dried tear from the corner of your eye, “Don’t forget it.”

-

Clint’s unconscious when you knock. As predicted, Natasha’s by his bed, reading a book with two apples neatly peeled and sliced.

“Hi,” she says, looking up, smiling sweet and small, and sly.

“Hi,” you reply, staring at your shoes, “Thanks for being here.”

“Mhm. Sit?”

You don’t know why you clam up around her. Clint would cut off his own hands if Natasha needed a new pair, and it’s a funny little thing, the way you’re all connected. Clint can’t seem to do anything but annoy Bucky, yet fixes his collar and starts calling everyone ‘sir’ if he hears Steve down the hall.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” you say dumbly.

“I know.” She smiles again and looks at you, really looks, her eyes big and bright and you get a little lost in them. “He woke up earlier and said he can’t die yet because he didn’t want you to be mad at him. Or you might die out of spite so you can kill him ‘extra dead’. His words.”

And sometimes you're not sure with her—if she says things because they’re true, or if she says them because they’re true enough, and what matters more is you just need to hear them.

She reaches out for your hand, squeezing it, and it takes just about everything for you not to burst into tears again. You can feel her relaxing, ready to let go, but you hold on, and she smiles again. That beautiful, otherworldly smile that almost reads your mind, and suddenly you understand why Clint would cut off his hands for her.

“Thanks,” you say.

Natasha offers you an apple, glancing to the door where Steve and Bucky stand. They're connected, too. In a way you're not, in a way only they know, but you don't seem to mind it anymore.

“Yeah,” she says, and this time you know she means it. “Anytime.”

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 17!!!

Okay, it's been a bit so quick recap: We just spent the evening at a dive bar singing karaoke and learning that 1) Jesus is a 13-year-old rich white kid with rich parents living in L.A. and 2) Muriel is missing. The Angel of Sardis gave us a lovely fishbowl (alcoholic drink since no one in this world has bothered to ask Reader's age because I have more room to play that way) as a reward for singing Taylor Swift (Shake it Off). We pick up our story The Morning After.

Also, since the poll about Sardis tied, I'm taking it to mean that everyone needs/wants more time with him to figure him out. Fortunately people also voted to bring him along, so we get to have LOTS OF THAT!! :D

Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G Major for anyone who's curious.

What music do you think Anathema likes??

Let's do this!!

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**********************************

The next morning you sit at the table in the dining room of the massive Ritz hotel suite, staring into your coffee. You have a headache, and no one else seems to be faring too much better. If only it was just a hangover. A miracle from either Aziraphale or Crowley could fix a hangover, but there was no way that a miracle of any size could make your situation any less bleak.

Aziraphale, angel that he literally is, had thought to order in breakfast from the kitchens. You look from your coffee to the waiting plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, heaving a sigh. Jesus, if and when you find him, is an entitled teen. Muriel, friend and precious, is missing. Things are...well, it’s hard to feel happy or optimistic right now. Your companions aren’t faring much better as far as you can tell. Crowley is staring at his phone with a frown, the sound effects of Candy Crush drifting across the otherwise silent table. He’s playing at non-chalance, but you know Distraction As A Coping Mechanism when you see it. Aziraphale has barely touched his food, focusing more on alternating between stirring his tea, and sipping it only to add more sugar. The drink must be nearly syrup by now. Anathema keeps dangling her pendulum, pausing, then setting it down to re-cast her rune stones. You’ve noticed that they keep landing up the same way. Well, you need fuel in your system if you’re going to deal with all of this, so you reluctantly cut a slice of pancake with your fork and bring it to your mouth.

The silence stretches. Well, except for the ambiance; Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, pancake slice. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, pancake slice. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, bacon – mixing it up a little. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast

BAM!!!!

The door of the suite slams open, and there stands Sardis with his foot in the air.

He kicked the door down. What...on….earth…

“I FOUND HIM!” Sardis stomps into the suite toward the table, waving his phone in the air, “I FOUND HIM! I knew I’d seen his face somewhere, and I found him!!”

Crowley sits up straight for once in his life. “Who THE FUCK gave him a key?!”

You avert your gaze. The fishbowl was delicious, and he patted your head afterward and told you everything would be okay! Not your fault….entirely.

There isn’t much time for you to contemplate your guilt because Sardis has turned up the volume on his phone, and pressed play on a Tik Tok video. He turns his phone so that you all can see the screen. A boy with dirty-blonde hair is smiling out of it. His hair is longer in the middle and pouffed up with what is probably a standard-teenager’s worth of hair gel, and the sides are very short with...dollar signs shaved into them. It’s just a Tik Tok video, but you can smell the Axe body spray from here.

“Hey guys!” The smiling teen calls, waving at the camera. “It’s me, ya boy Jeremy. I’m bringing back my most popular series. That’s right! You asked, and I’m answering your prayers! Time to bring back Let’s See What I Can Get Away With Because I’m RICH.”

Your face twists in disgust, and you hear Anathema groan.

“I think we’ve seen quite enough,” Aziraphale says, speaking for you all.

“Are...are you sure that’s Jesus?” You ask. Honestly you’re hoping it’s a joke. You’re hoping beyond hope that this...this...caricature of a person is not the same person who you need to convince to help you save the world.

“Oh yeah,” Sardis replies, “That’s him. Right name and everything.”

“Wot? Jeremy?” asks Crowley with an edge of salty sarcasm.

“No,” Sardis says, “His true name. I know everyone’s, remember? It’s the right kid, you have my word on that.”

Truth be told, you’re still not exactly sure what his word is worth, but for now it’s a lead. You glance at Anathema, who shrugs.

“Fits the bill,” she admits, “All my readings have been...unsettlingly clear about the kind of kid we’re looking for, and I mean...” She gestures helplessly at the phone and the video that Sardis has, thankfully, paused. You blink, dumbstruck. Aziraphale said something last night about Heaven cutting corners. Apparently they had cut the corners so thoroughly they’d made a circle.

Great.

******************

Breakfast suddenly became easier after that. Maybe it was because Sardis was the only one who wasn’t completely despairing over everything, and maybe it was because he was suddenly helping himself to the plates of excess pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Suddenly, you noticed Aziraphale wave a finger and the food was hot again – trying to impress company, or be a good host, or both no doubt. You found that your appetite had suddenly returned, along with your need for caffeine. Even Crowley had grabbed some bacon now that, perhaps, there seemed a less likely chance of him having the choice if he waited any longer. Sardis did most of the talking, explaining that the shortest driving route would take 28 hours. Best to get started asap then.

“I am not listening to anymore of your….Us songs!” Crowley growls at you as soon as you get in the car.

“Not all of them are love songs!” You protest.

“No! No breakup songs either!”

“Fine, fair, but what about -”

“And especially no End-of-the-World songs!” He snarls. You’re pretty sure he’s halfway to hissing at you now. “We have enough of that to deal with assss is!” Ah, there it is.

Ever-so-gently, Aziraphale takes the phone out of your hand.

“Perhaps it’s about time someone else had a turn,” he says. Ah, so he’s finally gotten tired of humouring you and your taste in music. Well, it had to happen eventually.

Unfortunately, this means that you all end up listening to Brandenburg Concerto No 3 in G Major. Well, it could be worse, you figure. At least this song has movement to it, even if it does feel endless based on your musical standards. Crowley is driving and silent, Aziraphale is waving your phone around in the passenger’s seat like a conductor’s baton. The backseat is as follows – You, Sardis, and Anathema.

Yes, Sardis is there. Considering the way he found Jesus – or, Jeremy – so quickly, and the way he seems to be single-handedly keeping everyone’s morale afloat, it seemed a waste to leave him behind. Besides, both Crowley and Aziraphale had tried to make him leave, but he just….stayed. In the end, you pouted, they gave up, and now he’s sitting in the middle of the backseat, because you and Anathema have seniority.

Speaking of Anathema, you notice her very pointedly staring out the window. She looks...stiff. Maybe classical music isn’t her thing? Your suspicions are confirmed approximately nine minutes later when she practically jumps up from her seat and grabs the phone out of Aziraphale’s hand and presses stop. The music comes to a halt and silence fills the SUV. Aziraphale looks shocked and appalled.

“Anathema!” The angel exclaims after a moment. You can practically hear him clutching at his non-existent pearls. You can see him resisting the urge to clutch at his bowtie. “We weren’t even finished the Allegro!”

Anathema takes a deep breath. You’re able to count out a solid beat of ten before she speaks.

“I...am not...listening to classical concertos for 28 hours. I don’t care what key it’s in or how many allegros it’s got!”

Crowley snickers and snorts. “Concertos don’t work like that.” He says. You see Aziraphale gently pat the demon’s knee as if to say ‘that’s my man.’

“Well what would you rather?” Is what Aziraphale actually says, “More bebop?”

“Try me, and I’ll play death metal, I swear I will.”

“Um,” Sardis ventures cautiously, “Can I see that for a minute-- thank you.” He plucks the phone out of Anathema’s hand. After a minute or two of swiping, he taps the screen, and the car fills with songs from well-known musicals. Now, although this isn’t exactly to everyone’s taste, no one can find a good reason to outright hate it. No one can manage to find a good reason not to put up with it, and so by the time Music of the Night has melted into Seasons of Love, everyone has settled down and accepted that things aren’t actually all that bad.

“Impressive,” You mutter, basking in the semi-content vibe. Everyone is still a little on edge, but it feels less intense now.

Sardis smirks. “Six siblings,” he says to you with a small nudge.

“What happened to the others?” Anathema asks, tuning in to the conversation.

“Well,” Sardis sighs, “Of the seven of us - myself, Smyrna, Pergamum, Ephesus, Philadelphia, Thyatira, and Laodicea - Smyrna and Philly were the only ones who didn’t get hate mail. Smyrna was always super into the doctrine. She drank the kool-aid, as the humans here would say, and felt it her calling to ‘return home,’ as she put it. Bullshit, honestly. We weren’t born angels, we were made alongside the churches of Christ. ‘S one of the reasons why they don’t actually give a shit about us.”

“And why you worried that your miracles might get taken away,” You add, putting some of the pieces together. Sardis nods. “Wait, a minute,” You say, “You were made??”

Sardis laughs. “Alright Little Moth, you need to pick a lane here. Do you want to hear about my siblings or how I was born human?”

“You were BORN HUMAN?!” You are practically bouncing right now. What...how… “But you said that you can’t change your species!”

“I said your Miracle Enabler can’t change your species,” He replies with a twinkle in his eyes, “Not that it can’t be done. The seven of us were all born human. We made the first seven churches, so we were made guardians, lower angels. Like...lower than whatever the lowest type of angel you know of is. But we weren’t created as angels like your friends in the front seat.” Movement catches your peripheral vision, and you notice Crowley shifting a little in his seat. No doubt that’s a touchy subject that only Aziraphale is allowed to go anywhere near, but he says nothing. “So they all pretend we don’t exist, and look down on us whenever they need to deal with us. Sort of like we’re --”

“Oh, don’t worry,” You interject, “I read enough fantasy to understand the way magical societies view human-born magic users.” You can imagine that being An Angel of God would probably get old real fast if everyone who was supposed to welcome you actually hated you and made sure you knew it. Goodness knows it got to Aziraphale eventually, makes sense that a human-born angel (a huboan? You’ll work on it) would get sick of it a lot sooner.

“And that’s why I like you Little Moth,” Sardis says with a chuckle and a wink. “Anyway, so I know Smyrna went to Heaven. Philly stayed here. The two of us have always been really close, she stuck with me and we messaged and called and visited all the time until recently. I got some messages from her when the world went nuts during the first apocalypse, but I haven’t heard from her since. She stopped replying to my messages.”

Now it’s your turn to shift uncomfortably in your seat. Your eyes drop to your feet and start to fill with tears, so you change your view to the one outside your window.

“I can relate,” You say after a moment, holding back a sniffle and a sob. Deep breath. “Well, I’m glad you’re sticking with us.” You plaster a smile on your face and turn back to him. “Maybe we can find her.”

He smiles. “That’s what I’m hoping.” For a while, everyone is silent. After a few minutes, Anathema offers to put together a playlist with everyone’s favourite songs. The mood shifts considerably as the five of you spend the next few hours excitedly making musical suggestions.

It’s the best collection of music you’ve ever heard.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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[kylejsugarman]

Idk if you’ve answered this already but at what point in their relationship did Jesse tell Demi ab his past? How did that go over? How much does she know?

ive mentioned it some before but i haven't really gone super in depth!! as u all may know, i am very "and then everyone made it to alaska and everything ended up ok!! :)" minded, so i dont have a big dramatic revelation beat to my story and ultimately, jesse never tells demi that he's living under a completely new identity. however, he does tell her a Lot of other things, partially because he trusts her, partially because he feels guilty keeping things from her that might make her see him differently; he feels that she deserves to know how fucked up he is so she can escape him and avoid tying herself down to a mistake. jesse first tells her about his drug use after demi explains how her sister died, again out of that guilt and the expectation that she won't want to associate with a former(ish) addict, but demi saw firsthand how powerful addiction can be and isnt scared off. when it comes to his criminal history, it takes him a little longer to work up the nerve to disclose that stuff: he's afraid of both endangering her by letting her know what he's done and losing her. he drops a few things along the way, usually related to drug dealing and production since she was so understanding of that aspect of his past, but once they decide to get married, he feels that he owes it to her to be totally honest. the dark details of making and selling the drugs, being around violence and controlling figures. enacting violence himself. losing people. being sold into slavery. he leaves out specific identifying details (demi's never been a current events kind of person but he cant risk her connecting those dots) and places a lot of the blame on himself instead of trying to describe the people from his past who were pulling a lot of those strings. its basically an abridged version of the show's events, no names, no details in certain places (he doesnt even tell her which state he used to live in), and no forgiveness.

demi listens patiently the whole time, not asking many questions along the way. she tenses up when he touches on captivity, but otherwise her demeanor remains open and nonjudgmental. when it's over, she doesn't say anything, which is somehow worse than disgust. jesse is so wound up at this point that he flips out on her, insisting that this is her time to cut her losses. he's a criminal, a fucking murderer. he's evil. demi still doesnt react the way he wants and instead just waits until he's out of venom before reaching out to very gently smooth down his hair. petting the angry, upset dog instead of reflexively giving him away. "im sorry you've had to carry that around with you all this time," she says softly and that breaks him. because it Has been so hard carrying that around. demi asks a few more questions, clarifies a few more things, then tells him what she thinks. that she's seen how he acts now, how he treats people, how he treats himself. that she grew up with a father who sounds like the figures he alluded to in his story. that she is uncertain and insecure about a lot of things, but she's never been more sure that jesse is a good person and that she loves him irrespective of whatever came before. "im dangerous," he insists, a former fighting dog that would rather die than return to the ring. a hand on his own—"then why do i feel so safe with u?"

it's not perfect. there will always be things that jesse never shares with her and he will never totally forgive himself because as the one living person who knows the Extent of what went down, he feels that it's his responsibility to hold himself accountable for It for the rest of his life. demi's perception of him Does change, although not entirely in a negative way, and she is a little hurt that he expected her to bail so quickly and she can't lie and say that her mind doesn't occasionally drift to the fact that her husband has killed people. but at the end of the day, they're two broken people who were utterly convinced that their lives were over before they found each other. this is their second chance at life and they're never going to take that or each other for granted. whatever comes, they're going to face it together

[daggzandarrowsnew]

Let’s go on Dreaming

Every time I listen to the song So Close and think of the scene it is from in Enchanted, I think of Outlaw Queen during that bloody painful Frozen arc and I HAVE to write something.

So we’ll pretend that Marian was really Marian and after she gave her blessing to Regina, nothing else happened in the town of Storybrooke. There was no Zelena issue to resolve but our Regina wasn’t quick to forgive Robin for things that happened during that time.

I’ve left descriptions of clothing etc. out of it purposefully. When I’m reading a fic, I usually like to visualise some of my favourite characters looks and just go with that so when descriptions come into it, it either muddles my brain or I just ignore them 🙈 that is only me though! If you prefer descriptions, let me know and I will include them in the future.

—————————

“I’m fine right here, sweetheart,” Regina smiled at Henry. Waving him away when he attempted to lead her to the table that Emma and her parents were sitting at. “Go have some fun.”

She had only agreed to come because Henry had refused to go without her.

If there was one thing Snow White loved, it was a victory party. She almost found herself wondering how many had been thrown over the years she’d attempted to kill the girl but decided not to take herself down that path tonight. They were in an extremely healthy place now. They’d never be the young princess and her kindhearted rescuer again, too much had happened. But they’d become something of a family once more.

She smiled over at the woman in question, shaking her head when Snow frowned at her resistance to join them.

Almost subconsciously, her eyes drifted to where Robin stood with his back to her and his eyes trained on his whiskey glass at the bar. When she looked back to Snow, she found sympathy there but no pity and for that, she was grateful.

She and Robin hadn’t spoken much since Marian had given her blessing. Regina hadn’t seen much point in it. They’d missed their time many years ago in a land far different than this one and they’d been fools to think otherwise. She’d been the biggest fool of all.

Darkness hadn’t yet touched her heart when she’d first laid eyes on him in that tavern. Sure, she’d had the first suggestions of darkness shrouding her thoughts but her heart had still been pure, much like Robin’s was. But now…she was the furthest thing she could have been to what he deserved. How she’d ever believed it could work was ridiculous. Of course he’d choose another over her. Of course he would.

It was a deep ache that threatened to steal her breath entirely every time she allowed herself to think too much into it. Tonight wasn’t about that though. Tonight was about spending time with her son and the people he loved and who loved him, even if they didn’t all love or even like her. So she took a deep breath and swallowed against the lump in her throat. She’d weathered the storm before, she would do so again with the help of Henry this time to keep her on the right path. On the only path she wanted to be on.

When a glass was placed in front of her, amber liquid swirling within, she took a deep breath, readying herself to look into shining blue eyes and refuse the offer of a drink only to release it swiftly and in no way subtly when she found Granny to be standing before her.

“Knock it back quick, girl.”

Regina frowned up at the woman before realising how she was standing right in front of her, her bulking frame hiding Regina from view of any who may be looking over. She smiled gratefully before picking up the glass and tipping the whiskey into her mouth, swallowing like she was a dying woman and this was the elixir of life. “Thank you,” she coughed lightly, placing the glass in Granny’s hand.

“Atta girl.”

And with nothing more than a comforting squeeze of her hand around Regina’s, she was moving off towards the bar once more.

——————

A short while later, Regina found another glass in front of her. This one easily identifiable by the smell that reached her instantly. Tequila.

“Miss Swan, I’m-“

“You may look fine, Regina,” Emma interrupted as she lowered herself into the booth opposite her, her own shot glass in her hand, “but I know I’d prefer a friend in this situation.”

Robin had since moved from his place at the bar to sit beside his (now) ex-wife and son. Their gazes had met a couple of times, holding only for one painful instant before she was looking anywhere else but at him despite the feeling of those eyes still on her.

“It’s been a hard few weeks for everyone,” she continued, her fingernails tapping at the glass in her hand now resting on the table in front of her. And Regina blinked.

Though she’d initiated the search that had helped stop Emma from relinquishing her powers - a ridiculous notion that the Charmings had somehow entertained for a terrifying moment - she’d been too wrapped up in her own issues with Robin to remind Emma that magic was in the very fabric of her being. So she nodded and lifted the shot glass in front of her, smiling when Emma mirrored her and knocked them together with a satisfying clink before they were sinking the tequila without so much as a grimace.

Emma’s eyes moved back over to her family and Regina studied her for a moment. Here was a woman who’d finally found everything she wanted - the son she’d been too afraid to keep, the parents she’d always searched for and the love she’d always craved from other partners but never found. Yet, much like Regina, she’d been unable to accept it and had tried to change herself.

Regina shook her head, knowing that she too should be accepting that she was simply enough as she was despite her past but it was so much easier to give advice rather than take it.

“If ever you should need my help with anything, Emma…” she began tentatively, lifting her eyes from the table when the blonde turned her attention back to Regina. “I may not be the most approachable, but I am always here…whenever you need.”

Emma nodded gratefully before chuckling softly to herself and eliciting a frown from Regina. “You may not have been approachable when I first got here, Madame Mayor,” she grinned, able to laugh at their initial rivalry now despite how both were nearly killed numerous times during those first couple of years, “but you’re most definitely not as scary now as you were then.”

Dark eyes flashed with a dangerous humour as a perfectly tweezed brow lifted. “You think I’ve gone soft, Miss Swan?”

“Okay, no,” Emma laughed, lifting herself from the booth. “Let’s leave the Evil Queen in her cage, shall we?”

Regina merely shrugged in response as Emma began backing off with a much easier smile than when she’d first sat down. “The night’s still young.”

“Yes,” Emma nodded, that smile softening as she cocked her head towards where Robin now sat alone, “it is.”

——————

She was on her way back from the bathroom, weaving slowly through those who’d chosen to get up and dance - Henry and Emma among them, she noted with a smile - when small fingers curl around her hand suddenly.

“Dance with me, R’gina!”

“Roland, use your manners,” Marian’s admonishment came instantly as Regina turned to find the two behind her.

“Dance with me please, R’gina!” he amended adorably, Regina’s heart growing two sizes as she crouched to his level with a warm smile.

“By the looks of your rosy cheeks,” she tapped at the side of his face, eliciting a shriek of laughter from him, “I’d say you’d already been dancing.”

He nodded before reasoning, “But I haven’t danced with you yet!”

“You can’t just abandon your mama,” she replied, not wanting to step on Marian’s toes with their checkered past. “Who will she dance with?”

The woman in question laughed easily, shaking her head as she explained, “You’d be doing me a favour,” she raised a hand to her forehead for Roland’s benefit as she added, “I’m all danced out, I’m afraid.”

Roland looked from his mother and back to Regina excitedly as she looked up at Marian with her eyebrows raised in question, asking if the woman really was sure. When she merely smiled wider and nodded, Regina looked back to Roland.

“Well I guess that’s settled then.”

And with that, she hefted the giggling toddler onto her hip and began turning them in circles, revelling in the same excited shrieks this kind of dancing had once pulled from her own son when she’d twirled him around the kitchen as a child.

—————-

She was almost out of breath and quite ready to call it a night. Roland had allowed her a moment of reprieve, running to his mother to ask if she’d been watching their two, three, four different dances (which, of course, she had). She was about to turn and start making her way back towards her table when she felt it. She felt him. Standing behind her.

“May I have this dance, milady?”

Regina turned slowly on the spot, quite sure at least four pairs of eyes were on them already as she finally locked a steady gaze on the man she’d been unable to look at all night.

His smile was so earnest, so full of hope as he stood before her that she found herself automatically nodding despite the lump rising in her throat.

Robin gave her a long moment more to change her mind before he was slowly and tentatively stepping into her space with his hands held up palm outwards.

She shouldn’t, Regina knew she shouldn’t but somehow, her hands lifted of their own accord. One found its way onto his shoulder, curving over the muscle there as she felt him cup her waist, while the other laid gently atop his waiting palm.

There was a moment in which their eyes locked once more. One filled with every single word they’d never been able to say to one another, never been brave enough to voice in these last few heartachingly awful weeks. And then, without any more thought to it (because what needed to be said right now, here in this frozen moment between them) they pulled one another closer and began to move, feeling for the first time in a long time that perhaps things wouldn’t have to be so difficult anymore. Perhaps for once, things could be easy.

Just this once.

[hotasfahrenheit]

I hadn't really intended on talking about it here, but I've been circling thoughts and emotions all day and I think I'm still not allowed to post on fbook about it because of family things, but I got a message this morning when I woke up that an old friend has passed away and I'm grateful I learned on a day I was off from work so I've had time to sit in my melancholy and cry at home about it.

I dreamed last night that I was at some kind of gathering of people sledding on a hill that included friends made in the past year as well as friends I've known most of my life and also people I graduated high school with. Among them was a friend from college who took his own life a few years ago. Laughing, I told someone else that he was turning forty this year, but seemed so much younger as we watched him sledding on the hill. He never reached that age, never will, in the waking world.

In the dream, the snow started to melt and people were having trouble with sleds in the sudden mud. Someone threw a damp snowball at me, and I scooped up snow to throw one back but hesitated over how it might hurt from the way the snow compacted because it was so wet. It's been years since I've lived somewhere with enough winter snowfall to have a sledding party or snowball fight or worry about melting snow hurting when it was thrown. I decided I didn't like the person in the dream enough to mind if the snowball stung a little and threw it anyway.

I woke up to news about my friend. I had to pass that news on to someone I knew it would hurt more deeply than myself.

There are many problems with moving away from home and many benefits too. One of the problems is that you inevitably lose touch with old friends; you have the tenuous social media connections that keep them vaguely in your orbit, like a little thread drifting into the distance that says they're still around, but it's so easy to forget to check on those threads and see how people are doing. When you move around the country a bunch, you collect more and more threads and it becomes harder to keep track of everything and everyone and you just kind of assume they're doing well somewhere out there.

Some people are pieces of your foundation in ways you don't realize. They are a part of your life for a time, when you need them the most, and offer a calm pool of serenity and compassion in an otherwise wild mix of events. You spend hours talking online through the night, you hang out at parties and gatherings, you sneak them into your parents house in the middle of a night for a brief visit to hang out and catch up, you feel the love they have for you echoing down the years. Even when they're suddenly, irretrievably gone.

I hope your sweet soul is at rest, my friend. I hope you've found peace. I hope I see you in the stars.

[starrygalazy]

Random HC's for all the Overwatch characters (mostly Mei) that I've been gathering over the last 3 months (starting Sept. 17)

It's just. Exactly what it sounds like. Fluffy, angsty, funny, probably not spicy (I lied-ish, talking abt a dick). We'll see. Gonna try and post this on December 31 for something

(Sept 17) Zenyatta is ticklish as hell. Typically omnics aren't but he got his touch receptors modified, tho I can't decide if Ramattra and Mondatta tricked him into it or he wanted to try it out

(Sept 20) Genji used to have a dick piercing, when he was young and stupid. After Blackwatch he took it out and now there's just a scar.

(Sept. 29) Mei finds a lot of comfort in music box songs her mom had lot when she was young and it helps her sleep.

(Oct 3) Actually on top of the previous hc, Mei can't do silence anymore. She always needs background noise, so usually she keeps her machines in the science ward running when she's actually trying to sleep. Otherwise she puts on music or uses sound generators if it's a bit too quiet on Gibraltar. The only sound that disturbs her more than just silence is wind blowing through the quiet, because it REALLY reminds her of emerging all alone.

(Oct 20) Mei is a Steven Universe girl. Her favorite Gem as a kid was Garnet because she loved her message about self love and how much Sapphire and Ruby loved each other, and she still knows almost all the songs by heart. She got very good at singing because she sang along so much. Also she probably cried when Steven lost his gem then got it back, and when Spinel sang "Drift Away"

(Nov 4) If Mei geeks out to someone, she really really loves and trusts them. Usually it'll be about her tech, climatology, or any show that she's currently watching. She only does this if she's fully comfortable with someone though

(Nov 19) Mei is one of those people who goes ALL OUT for Christmas. If you've seen those tiktok slideshows abt warm Christmases and tacky Christmases and more, she is ALL OF THEM (a little warmer leaning imo). She'll start looking for stuff to buy as soon as Halloween ends but she refrains from actually making anything until Thanksgiving (as request of quite a few OW agents).

(Nov 19) Cassidy either hates pumpkin spice latte's or loves it. No in between. He loves pumpkin pies though!

(Nov 28) Mei genuinely did consider joining Talon instead of Winston's recall in a grief filled moment. However, she immediately remembered her friends and knew they wouldn't want her to go down that path. On top of that, if Mei's struggling with a tough decision, she thinks about what her Ecopoint team would do. She thinks of it as the least she can do considering she believes she was at fault for some of it (even though that's not true).

(Dec 15) Genji has a lot of scuffs on his armor, mostly around his shoulders, although a lot has been buffed and polished out. Most think it's from battle, but a lot of it is actually from Snowball nuzzling him too hard. The same goes for Tokki, Reinhardt, Brigitte, and a few others.

(Dec 15) As a kid and teen, Mei's mom always got her a lot of clothes and she never really got clothes on her own except in the winter time. She'd put buying clothes as a last priority since usually her mother would do that, and it's why she never has a lot of clothes for the summer: she's just still in the habit of putting off clothes shopping.

(Dec 30) Mei would have 100% been a Royale High girl on roblox. You can fight me on this

It's currently almost 1 AM for this on Jan 1st and im posting this now. HAPPY NEW YEARS EVERYONE

[a-dose-of-oranges]

Post 03 - Platonic Love

1/29/2022 7:14 pm

When I first read The Infernal Devices series by Cassandra Clare at the young age of nine, I wanted Tessa Gray’s life. If not for the adventure that made the story what it was, then for Will Herondale and Jem Carstairs. It was not because both Will and Jem are attractive fictional men (though I would never deny they are), but because I sought love from a young age. And not just any kind of love, romantic love. In Clockwork Princess, Woolsey Scott said “Most people are lucky to have even one great love in their life. You have found two,” to Tessa Gray. I wanted to be Tessa because from a young age I saw that she attained not only one of what I yearned for so desperately but two. Though as I explained in my previous post, that conventional romantic love I once dreamt of is not the most probable for me. 

The concept of having a “great love” can be applied to friendship, too. Like many other people, I have had many friends throughout my lifetime and will continue meet more people who I will consider my friend ongoing. However, that does not necessarily mean they will be there for the remainder of my life. I moved from what I consider my hometown the summer of 2014, ironically the summer I discovered TID, I left a lot of friends behind who I have not been in contact with since. I was only nine, and so were they, meaning there was not really a way to keep in touch. I graduated from high school last year and I have not spoken to a majority of people I considered my friends since the night we walked across the stage.

Our lack of contact does not negate the fact we were friends at one point because for the most part there was not a friendship breakup or falling out, our time just came to a close and we all drifted, which I guess could signify the end of the friendship for some. I have heard people say once you are a friend, even if it was a five minute happening in a public bathroom, you are a friend for life unless otherwise stated. The latter makes sense to me, I mean if I were to see some of these old friends from high school I no longer speak to and there is mutual recognition, I would smile and wave. I would not smile and wave to strangers, so that must mean something, right?

Regardless, a lot of these friends I am no longer in contact with were mostly surface level and forced proximity. It’s not a bad thing, but there is some unspoken boundary. For me to speak to them again, I would have to see them in public (which would trigger the smile and wave), but that would all be by chance. I don’t think either side of the friendship would go out of our ways to reach out, though I also don’t think either side of the friendship would mind if the other did. Maybe raise an eyebrow, but nothing much more. 

There are friendships that seem to be carrying through my life, however. I met one of my best friends in third grade, just over ten years ago. I moved away from our hometown a little under two years later after we became friends. Yet, we somehow managed to keep in touch through the remainder of our elementary years, our middle school years, our high school, and now college. Even in middle school, my mom noted that our friendship is different and will probably carry on for the remainder of our lives because we remained close through the distance at such a young age. I met my other best friend the freshman year of high school. We remained attached to the hip for all four years. She went off to college, while I remained here to attend community college, so we do not see each other everyday like we once did. In both instances, we find time to talk and hang out when we are free. We are living our own lives, but we always come back to each other and make room when we can. 

It has always been easy with both of them. I have a special place in my heart for them that can never be replaced by anyone or anything. They are not people I am afraid of losing not because neither of us cares, but because I feel secure that they are people that will be in my life for the long run. If there are people who know me from all angles and who have heard things from me that I would keep to myself otherwise, it is both of them. And if there is anyone who has loved me in the times I was unable to love myself, it is both of them. It has always been them, and as far as I can tell it will always be them. 

People would define a great love as their one romantic love that will last them a lifetime. The person they will marry, live with, start a family with (if they choose), die with. With me being aromantic, it is hard to tell the future of my “romantic” relationships. Regardless, I can say I have my great loves already. In a sense, I am like Tessa Gray. I was lucky enough to not only find one in the first, but another in the second. It is not what I envisioned as a child, though I will not rule out having a “romantic” partner in the future, but in this moment they are my two great loves in a friendship, platonic soulmate way.

[pretty-toru]

You know something i feel like people should understand before coming to a conclusion wether a guy is a virgin or not is that; virginity wether male or female doesn't translate to innocene or equates it at all. I think that Satoru's smugness, arrogance, cockiness and playfulness is what makes people believe he's a chad so to speak but that's not true at all like that's irrelevant and purity, innocence being tied to virginity is just a pure myth.

Many people are virgins yet they are bold, playful and you name it, i think Satoru's power should also be taken into account when analysing him here, his whole shtick is to literally keep the distance between him and others so they don't touch him. This screams to me not only emotional vulnerability but also intimate and physical touch too. It's a no surprise that he was so determined to perfect it after Toji incident so he can have it run 24/7 and man has trust issues, he's extremely catious, plus he would absolutely never want to get anyone involved in any way because he knows what that means, he had a bounty on him since he was born, imagine that. I think he severely had to push away his personal needs and wants for the sake of others, he has little to no days off and can only wander around when he's on missions so there's that too! Given that people took alot of comments Gege has made to a face value, and given the fact that Gege likes to troll more often than not, i think it's really contradicting everything that he wrote Satoru to be in the manga, who knows maybe Gege would clown on him for not being able to get it but i doubt he even thinks of this for his own character in the first place lol, he is extremely plot driven and only throws a few quips here and there but that's it, he hasn't written Satoru to be a character where romance/sex would be entertained. Plus he never was shown to flirt with anyone, nor his colleagues, only shown that he likes attention because it fuels his big ego lol

Ofc that's not a bad thing, this lets people have various hcs for him and let their imaginations run wild but i hope they know when to hold brakes at least. And i'm mostly speaking here because of my love for this character but it's more on the side of a genuine love rather than thirst, i still let my mind run loose as you probably saw heheh but i also like to take a moment and appreciate him for being a wonderful human being in his own way. Hope you enjoyed reading this, i enjoyed writing for him as usual and let me know what you think! <3

Anon 🤍 I don't think I've told you before but I sincerely enjoy reading your Gojo metas and how you draw the conclusion of your analysis of his character. I know there's more than one way to interpret him but it's really refreshing to hear it from another perspective and to gain a little more insight.

But yeah, I completely agree that the stigma behind virginity is often associated with innocence and purity, and it's often portrayed by a common personality trait(s) such as someone that is shy and reserved and polite. When we think of Satoru, he doesn't fit in those categories with the way he carries himself and not to mention his appearance. He's extremely handsome and good-looking so people readily assume that he sleeps around often because why not? He has the means to and can easily pick up women if he wanted, but he doesn't because it's not a priority for him when he's working towards something bigger than himself and better for the future generations.

The hidden inventory arc definitely played a role in Satoru perfecting his infinity, because he once believed that he was untouchable until Toji proved him otherwise. The sorcerer-killer did what was thought impossible and made it possible, which was a huge eye-opener for him and ultimately aided in his growth and development. But because the outcome led Suguru and him to drift apart he feels safer closing himself off to potential future relationships to protect himself. Hence the push-pull dynamic when he meets someone and why he's so careful about letting people close to him on that level again.

I feel that Satoru has so many sides to him, that Gege's comment about him instantly makes you think he's a womanizer. But what if he can't fully commit and be sincere to someone given that Gojo Satoru himself isn't a normal human being? His entire life the Gojo clan controlled his every move and instilled in his head what he should be until he became old enough to truly think for himself. So his situation and circumstance doesn't allow him to love like regular people do and it takes a special someone for that to happen and we saw that with Suguru (whether you want to believe it's platonic or romantic).

With that said, I love how you ended with an appreciation note for Satoru because I think he's a wonderful mentor and person in his own way too. He really cares for his students and colleagues way more than he actually leads on.

[schrodingersauthorii]

In honor of Salvage Ch. 18, I have prepared the first chapter of my Phoenix Salvage AU. @muffinlance , there’s one scene that’s 100% an improvement in my overall writing structure I pulled from you, and I bet NOBODY can tell which one it is.

—————————

The young soldier must have somehow heard the blade coming. He didn’t have time to cry out, but the panic stains his face. Not quite the easy death Hakoda wanted, but unavoidable, and still far kinder than leaving him to the sea.

Two years of fighting had left many too-young Fire Nation soldiers dead on this deck, but this was different than a battle. Different even than a mercy kill, back when they thought maybe Fire Nation prisoners would simply accept a fate other than death.

The soldier wouldn’t have left them any choice in the end. But he hadn’t forced their hands. Not yet.

One of the men murmured a prayer, a simple benediction for the journey to the next life. This wasn’t the clean up after a battle, and there might not Fire elders speaking rites for the kid somewhere across the sea. The soldier might only have what they give him, and they're pragmatic people- not cruel.

The Fire Nation burns their dead. That would be kindest, but if they could safely build a pyre, then they could have safely kept a firebending prisoner. The young soldier have a sea burial.

The corpse vetoed this. Violently.

Akake and Tuluk yelped, dropping the suddenly burning body onto the wooden deck.

Fire shouldn’t be green and purple, Hakoda barely had to think, and the fire disappeared. He blinked the sparks out of his eyes, and the deck was as clear. No fire, purple-green or otherwise. Just a vaguely soldier shaped mound of ash.

Hakoda reached down to touch it: barely warm, and not so much as a soot mark beneath it.

Something stirred. Something tiny. Hakoda grabbed it without giving himself time to think about it. Whatever it was squirmed frantically in his hand.

Hakoda looked down, expecting- something. A still beating heart, perhaps. A reptile or worm, at the very least. Something repulsive and macabre. But a tiny, down-feathered bird trembled in his hand. He brushed ash off of soft, orange wings. Even filthy, the fledgling glowed like sunrise.

“It’s a bird,” Hakoda said, dumbfounded.

“A bird,” Tuluk repeated.

The bird cheeped in distress. Hakoda started to pet it, but it nearly fell to the deck in its effort to escape his hand. He quickly cupped it with both hands instead. The bird pecked at his fingers.

The entire deck stared in stunned silence. What were they supposed to do with a bird?

————————

Tolko presented a box hastily stuffed with hay from the albatross-pidgeon coop. Hakoda carefully dropped the chick inside. It burrowed down into the loose “nest,” still cheeping incessantly.

“He’s so cute,” Tolko gasped. “What are we going to do with him?”

Tolko stared at the bird with love already in his eyes. The bird stared back with… suspicion. At the very least.

Hakoda’s temples begun a warning throb.

“Ask Kustaa if he can… find anything,” he finally said.

Tolko cooed at the bird as he walked away.

Hakoda felt a dreadful portent hum in his bones: this would not end well, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.

------

“What is that?” Kustaa asked.

“A bird,” Tolko said. And held the chick up to Kustaa’s face, as if not seeing the puffball was the problem.

“Which might also be a Fire Nation soldier. The Chief wants to know if you can find anything.”

“A soldier.”

“Yeah. He was drifting past, we fished him out, but he was. You know. A Fire Nation soldier. And he said he was a firebender. So.”

“So what?”

“He kind of...died. And spontaneously combusted. The bird was in the ashes. See?”

Tolko brushed the bird’s head and held up a sooty finger. The chick couldn’t really floof in anger- it was already at maximum floof- but it gave its best impression of outrage anyway. Tolko hastily placed it on the table before it could tumble out of his hand.

“This is a bird,” Kustaa said. “I’m a healer, not an ornithologist. Or a shaman. All I’m qualified to say whether or not YOU have brain rot.”

“Umm…” Tolko mumbled.

“Any headaches? Blurred vision? Acute pain in your arms or legs? Motor difficulties?” Kustaa asked as he prodded Tolko’s arms.

“No?”

“Then we’ll work with the assumption that Spirits were involved, not Swamp Fever. Hopefully, a minor Spirit.”

Kustaa leaned down in front of the bird.

“Can you understand us: peck two times, then three.”

Low and behold, the bird did… then stared at them and pecked a deliberate pattern of some sort.

“I don’t understand that,” Kustaa said.

A storm of outraged peeping.

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Are you a Spirit, one peck for yes, two pecks for no.”

Two pecks, and more outraged peeping.

“...Are you a bird?”

In hindsight, it was incredibly bold of them to assume Zuko knew more than they did about anything.

--------

Tuluk entered Hakoda’s office after a single knock, and Hakoda’s temples immediately resumed pounding.

“Apparently, the bird insists he is the soldier, and NOT a Spirit,” Tuluk said.

Hakoda pinched the bridge of his nose. And resolved to make an offering soon. There were stories about shapeshifting Spirits who forgot they weren’t human.

“Keep an eye on him,” Hakoda said. “We’ll head to the nearest port and find an Earth Sage. This is exactly the kind of trouble we don’t need.”

Tuluk nodded grimly.

A thought struck Hakoda. “How did…?”

Tuluk sighed. “Lots of questions. Lots of patience. Kustaa is positively charmed with the little menace.”

“He’s a bird.”

“A mean one,” Tuluk agreed. “But he’s warmed to Kustaa and Tolko, for stars knows why.”

Hakoda didn’t like the idea of a Spirit getting… attached to his crew, but he liked the idea of an upset Spirit on his ship even less.

“Keep an eye on them, please,” Hakoda said.

Tuluk nodded, understanding in his eyes.

“I’ll do my best, but that’s a conversation you need to have with Kustaa and Tolko. Probably the rest of the crew, too.”

Hakoda’s headache sharpened with knife-like intensity. Tuluk eyed him with concern.

“Chief. Nobody will blame you if you need a drink before that. Kustaa’s almost ordered a shipwide medicinal order.”

Hakoda sighed.

“After,” he promised. And didn’t clarify after what.

—————————-

Their youngest crewman tucked the surly creature into his parka, from where it eyed everyone and everything with deep suspicion. Tolko kept up a mostly one-sided commentary, which the soldier-bird seemed surprisingly engaged with.

“Do you know his name?” Punuk asked as Tolko showed the bird their snack break offerings.

“No,” Tolko said through a mouthful of salted fish. “It’s the character for ‘righteous rule,’ but we couldn’t figure out the pronunciation. So Birdie it is.”

“Birdie” cheeped aggressively enough to attract the other crewmen’s attention for the first time in hours. There was still work to be done, and his constant noise quickly faded into the background.

“That’s terrible. How about… Sparky? Ember?”

“Blaze.”

“Inferno.”

“Red.”

“You can’t call him red, he’s pink.”

“He’s definitely more orange than pink.”

“Orange still isn’t red.”

Ragnalok tossed an empty water skin at the pair.

“Stop torturing the poor guy. He already died once today.”

The trio went quiet.

“Way too soon, man,” Panuk said.

Birdie was… worryingly quiet for several hours after that.

-------

Tolko roused in the middle of the night, awakened by a faint stirring of downy feathers and soft cooing. Birdy was awake. Tolko couldn’t see it, but dawn must be on the horizon.

Birds liked dawn. So did firebenders, presumably. It was early, but Tolko wasn’t tired-tired, so…

Tolko scooped Birdy up in one hand and slid out of his hammock. “We’ll go top deck,” he whispered as he tucked Birdy into his collar.

Birdy cheeped in a maybe grumpy, maybe affirmative way. But it was soft, so Tolko didn’t think he was upset. Birdy was very, very good at communicating when he was upset, bird or not.

It still seemed uncharacteristic. And Birdy was slumping on Tolko’s shoulder in a way he hadn’t yesterday.

Tolko scooped Birdy back into his hand, and Birdy just… cheeped quietly. Cheeped once and fell silent.

Okay. It was early: Birdy might just be tired. It was a Thing, that birds got sleepy when it was dark- even if it wasn’t actually night. They’d go topdeck and watch the sunrise, and if Birdie still seemed off he’d come back and wake Kustaa.

Tolko climbed the last stair just as the sun broke free of the horizon. Birdie chirped softly again, and Tolko held him out into the light.

“It’s beautiful,” Tolko said.

And Birdie once again caught fire on the Spirits damned deck.

[onecanonlife]

Ranboo plants Tommy flowers. Somewhere, somehow, Tommy receives them.

(word count: 1,261)

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

“So, it works like this,” Wilbur tells him. “Things that people in the living world give you as offerings show up here. We don’t quite know why, but then, we don’t know why we’re stuck here, either, so—” He shrugs, as if to say, There you have it.

Tommy frowns, looking away, eyes drifting across the white expanse, seemingly endless in all directions. Blank, empty of life, devoid of sound except for that which they make.

“It’s why Schlatt’s got his grave here,” Wilbur continues. “It’s the only real landmark we’ve got. People must leave him booze sometimes, I guess. I don’t know how he’d get it otherwise.”

“Do you get anything?” he asks.

Wilbur smiles at him, bitter around the edges. Shrugs again, as if to say, What do you think?

Wilbur’s not here all the time. Neither is Schlatt. Mexican Dream shows up even less than either of them. But the afterlife, or this holding place, whatever it is, never stays the same for long. He can walk for days and not run into a single soul, and sometimes he’ll take a step to the left and be surrounded by people, all of them fuzzy and indistinct and walking onward into some inexorable distance, none of them acknowledging his presence even when he yells. And he does yell. If he has one thing left to him, it is his voice, loud and strident and lonely.

Sometimes, he’ll find his way to Schlatt’s grave. Schlatt is always there. They don’t talk much. It’s hard, sometimes, to stay angry. There is nothing to do here except to be angry, and that gets tiring. The dead don’t sleep.

He changes too, just like the space around them. Sometimes, he is himself. Sometimes, he is a child again, truly a child and not the teenage soldier he grew up to be, wielding weapons he never grew into, old before he should have been. Sometimes, he is himself, but when he touches his face, his fingertips come away bloody. He doesn’t like to remember why, but he can never stop himself.

If he’s being honest, he’s not expecting to get much of anything. A grave, hopefully. Maybe a few small things. He likes to think that some people will miss him. But not most people, he thinks, because most people found him annoying, or disregarded him entirely, or loved him once but now do not. Tubbo will grieve for him, he’s sure. But that might be all.

Then, he steps forward, and he is surrounded by flowers. Red and white. Daisies, calla lilies, poppies, roses. There is a veritable field of them, and he can smell them, too, their scent sweet and pure in a place that never smells of anything at all. He walks among them, trailing his fingers along the petals, brushing them against their stems. He tries to pick one, but it won’t budge from the ground.

But they are for him. He knows in his heart that they are for him.

“Don’t they know that you don’t like flowers?” Wilbur asks, the next time he sees him. His words are mocking, but his face, as he bends down to inspect them, is soft.

“Right, yeah,” he says. “Flowers are for sissies.”

“Of course,” Wilbur says.

He doesn’t like flowers. Really, he doesn’t. Doesn’t see the point in collecting them, in using a fine summer’s day with his friends, picking them one by one. Doesn’t see the point in keeping them, either, not when they’re not useful for anything, even when they’re a gift, given to him by someone important, given to him as a symbol of something greater. He doesn’t like flowers, and that’s the story he’s sticking to.

He doesn’t know why. It’s not like it matters, anymore. He can like flowers all he wants, and no one will ever know.

He likes these flowers, at least. And the others seem to get that, because they don’t make fun of him for it. Wilbur pretends to, but pretending is pretending. Schlatt rolls his eyes, but leaves him alone. Mexican Dream compliments him on the garden he’s got going on.

He looks around. Every time he looks, there are more of them. It really is a garden, though instead of soil, there is only blinding white ground, impenetrable.

He doesn’t love them for themselves. Not really, though they do look nice. It’s the fact that someone is planting them, and thinking about him. Missing him. It’s probably Tubbo. This seems like the sort of thing that he would do.

The statues are a surprise, when they start popping up. They’re funny as hell, really, and also a bit weird. He appreciates the thought. But in the end, he likes these flowers the best. He can lie down and close his eyes breathe in deeply and pretend that he’s laying on top of his hill, the sun in his eyes and Tubbo coming down the way, his hotel rising to the sky just a bit down the path, and the world is good and the world is at peace and there is nothing to worry about, and all is well that ends well, and he can finally, finally live.

He does this, and then he sits up and lets the illusion dissipate. It is never wise to let himself dream for too long. Even if it doesn’t matter anymore. Even if he has more time to dream than he could possibly want.

He sits up and lets the illusion dissipate, and there is a new flower in front of him. This one isn’t planted, is just lying there, and it’s strange because it’s allium, puffy and purple, and it doesn’t match the color scheme of the rest at all. He picks it up gingerly, spinning it in his hands. And then sets it to the side again.

He watches for more allium, from then on. There never is any, though the amount of all the others continues to increase. And he keeps circling back to it in his mind, because it stands out, because it is different, doesn’t quite belong, and he’s not sure why someone would—

Allium.

There was an allium flower, wasn’t there? Before everything went wrong? He put it in the chest with all of the rest of the pilfered items, and he always meant to go back for it and all the rest, but that never happened, so for all he knows, it is in there still, lying undisturbed under the blackstone floor.

A single allium. He picks it up again. And there is a whisper in his mind, a whisper that is quiet and familiar and a bit choked with grief, and he knows, in that moment, that Tubbo isn’t planting these.

Have a flower, Tommy.

And he doesn’t understand, not really. Doesn’t understand why he would spend so much time on it, planting flowers for a dead boy who will never see them grow. Except, perhaps, for the reason that he is missed, that he misses him, and this is the only thing he can think to do. The only thing he can do.

He brings the allium to his face and breathes in. There is a smile on his face, slight and sad. Quiet. There is no wind here, so he must be imagining the breeze he feels, but he can see it in his mind: his bench, his jukebox, the sunset, and someone sitting by his side. For once, it isn’t Tubbo.

He hopes Ranboo knows that he’s thinking of him too.

[thatkpophoelife]

Jealousy

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem. Reader (ft. Taehyung and NCT Jaehyung)

RATING: Mature 18+

GENRE: NonIdol Au. Highschool Au. Smut. Fluff 

WC: 8K

SUMMARY: You and Jungkook have been best friends since the beginning of time. You spent every waking moment together until one night your at a party and the feelings you have been trying to keep inside decide they want to erupt and make your life harder than you ever could have expected. 

WARNINGS: Swearing. under aged drinking. Big dick Jungkook. Oral (Fem. Rec.) Nipple Play. Fingering (Fem. Rec.) Multiple Orgasms. Cream Pie. Unprotected Sex. Slight Daddy Kink. Slight degradation (hardly mentioned). Thigh Ridding. 

A/N: I’m so happy I’m finally done with it. I am so happy with the result. I have been working hard for the last few days getting this ready to post so sorry if anything is spelt wrong or doesn’t make sense. ENJOY! 

You and Jungkook have been best friends since the first grade. It all started when you fell off the monkey bars during recess. Your palms and knees were bloody and scraped. The cement was rough against your skin and you could see those small little rocks in the small cuts on your hands. As a little kid they seemed way worse than they really were. You were scared you would need to go to the doctors for stiches and then they would need to give you a shot. You were like 7, things like that terrified you.

When you looked up through your watery eyes, you could see a little boy with cute cheeks, deep brown eyes, and bangs. You looked back down at the ground and wiped off your cheeks and nose. When you looked back up you saw the same boy but with his hand out for you to grab. You reached out to grab it and he pulled you up with a huge grin and a huff.

“I’m Jungkook but my friends call me Kookie.”

“I'm Y/N. Thanks for helping me up Jungkook.” You though it had a nice ring to it.

“No problem. I have a band aid in my pocket, you can have it”

“Really? Thanks.” When he handed you the band aid you couldn’t help but notice it had a small picture of Woody from Toy Story on it.

In the days that went by, you two hung out nonstop. He told you almost everything that you could learn about a 7-year-old. You learned his birthday was September 1st, he has an older brother named SeokJin that everyone calls Jin, he likes pizza, and loves soccer. You knew other things of course, but those were just some of the basics.

You became best friends extremely fast and spent most of your summer together. You went to the beach more than once a week. Your parents became friends with his parents and there was no going back on this friendship now. You did develop a teensy tiny basically non-existent crush on Jin but it quickly went away when Jungkook called you out on it and asked you to never see his brother in that light again. You agreed because even though you were only now 8, you still had your priorities and Jungkook was in the top 3.  

By the time second grade came around he asked you, aka forced you, into joining his soccer team so you could “spend more time together.” You whined for the entire first practice. Since your mom was excited to finally see you doing a sport, she put your hair up in pigtails and bought you neon pink knee socks with a just as neon yellow visor. You were not happy. When you got to the field you felt out of place and like everyone was laughing at you. Those worries effected how you played. Just because you never played the sport before doesn’t mean you weren’t somewhat decent at it.

You knew how to dribble kind of well and you had decent aim when trying to make the ball in the net. But your real strong suit was goalie. You were never afraid of the ball or of getting hurt. If you needed to you would gladly dive for the ball if that’s what your team needed to win a game. You were never a girly girl so getting dirt on your knees never bothered you.

Despite all of this you still didn’t want to try out. Your mom was loud and never stopped cheering your name, no matter where you were. You had no other siblings so it’s not like she had anywhere else to be. She had her own small company that way she could create her own schedule and get to go to anything you wanted her to and as far as she knew that was everything. All of your class field trips, sport games, school plays, everything. You were too nervous to tell her otherwise because you didn’t want to hurt her feelings. You know that she only went overboard because she loves you so much but sometimes you wished she loved you a little less. And your dad was always busy with his 9-5 job so he never went to any of your things.

You never stopped playing though. You ended up enjoying the sport more than you could have expected. It was even more enjoyable since you were actually good at it, you always got to be goalie in all of your games. You and Jungkook were actually the star players on your co-ed team. And whenever Jungkook would ask you about why you still played even though you “didn’t like it that much” you always said you liked it enough to continue playing and that you had nothing better to do. You knew deep down that he knew you enjoyed the sport just as much as him, but you also knew he would never call you out on it.  

You won almost all of your games, and you and Jungkook always fought over who deserved the trophy’s. Your argument was that the goalie was a key role to stop the other team from scoring. Jungkook’s was that he made most of the goals to keep your teams score up too high for the other team to ever catch up. It always came to a vote among your teammates, Jungkook always won and you knew it was because most of the girls had a crush on him and wanted him to like them back.

Besides that, nothing exciting happend in your friendship for a while. You spent a lot of time playing soccor in parks and when it was soccor season. You spent all of your summers together and both you’re your guys’ parent let you two get a golden retriever to take care of named Olive the summer before 6th grade. She was staying at Jungkook’s though because it was his idea in the first place. It didn’t mean you never go to see her there. You spent half of your summer there so you saw her a lot.

In your summer of 7th grade Olive got hit by a truck. You were both devasted and Jungkook spent a week at your house. All because Jin forgot to let Olive in at night so she decided to run. Jungkook didn’t talk to Jin for almost a month.

Then in 8th grade a boy named Park Jimin decided to throw a “End of the Summer Almost Freshmen in High-School” party. In reality it was more like ten people that were all in some way shape or form a part of his friend circle. You were invited because they needed another girl to come and Jungkook talked you up so much Jimin had no choice.

The night was all fun and games until his parents went to bed. He quickly grabbed an empty 16-liter Coca-Cola bottle and sat it in the middle of the floor and had everyone gather around in a circle. You were beyond nervous considering you hardly knew any of the boys that were playing and you have never had you first kiss.

A few rounds went by and nothing particularly interesting happened. Jimin kissed some girl named Emily that you didn’t like that much anyways. Then it was Jungkook’s turn. He spun it and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. It felt as if the bottle was spinning non-stop. Past Emily, past Nichole, past Maddison, past Jimin, past everyone else. Then it stopped, and pointed at you.

You felt your heart speed up. You couldn’t kiss your best friend. It was wrong in so many ways. But the chanting of your names in the background couldn’t go unnoticed. You had no choice but to kiss him. Well, you kind of did but you were hoping that by doing something like this people will start to like you more and not look at you as Jungkook’s best friend. You both sat up and looked each other in the eyes.

Slowly the rest of the world started to silently drift away. You don’t know if it was because everyone around you stopped talking to watch the kiss or because you were to focused on Jungkook and nothing else. His right hand slowly went to up to your caress your cheek while his left hand was on the floor keeping him balanced. You couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in his eyes. The way they traveled from your pupils, to the tip of your nose, and finally landing on your lips. The way his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your cheek leaving a burning sensation wherever it touched. The way he locked eyes with you one last time to make sure he had your permission first.

You noticed that the second you nodded your head giving him permission; he didn’t waste a second to kiss you. The kiss was soft but urgent. Like you both have been waiting for this very moment for so long. Once he broke the kiss, he looked you in the eyes and gave you a look you would never forget. He smirked.

You couldn’t help but shake your head in absolute confusion and utter disbelief. Did he want that kiss to happen? Did he do that because the guys were watching? You didn’t know. The only thing you knew, was that you’ve had a huge crush on your best friend since the very beginning.

Ever since that day he helped you up from the dirty ground when your hands and knees you scraped and bloody. Ever since he told you it was a good idea to co-own a puppy. Ever since the last day of middle school when you took a selfie jumping with glee. These feelings had been hiding ever since the beginning, and Jungkook’s lips was the only thing to break down the barriers and release those feelings.

You didn’t bother to sit back down in the circle. You wanted to go home, needed to go home. You didn’t want to wake up your parents and ask them to pick you up. You also didn’t want to walk through the door and have them ask why you came home. You knew exactly what to do.

Call Jin.

He answered on about the fourth ring. “Hello?” said the course and tired voice from the other line. You felt bad the second you heard him speak because you knew you woke him up.

“Hey Jin. Umm I was wondering if you could pick me up from the party?” You were prepared to literally beg him to come pick you up.

“Whatever. It’s the same house Kookie’s at, right?” You couldn’t believe you didn’t even need to ask twice.

“That is very correct. I will be ready and waiting outside for you to pull up.”

“Loser. I will be there in 10, don’t make me wait.” You couldn’t help but smile widely while you were getting you stuff together and putting your shoes on.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” You have got to be kidding.

“Hey Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here. I was invited” You can see it written all over his cute little bunny face that he was so confused.

“I- I'm just not feeling too well, I'm going home” You couldn’t help the painfully obvious stutter as you lied to your best friend’s face.

“How, it’s a sleep over? Your mom won’t be thrilled if you called her at 1 o’clock in the morning.”

“I already called someone, and they should be here any minute now so you can go back and enjoy kissing those other girls.” What did you just say? You couldn’t stop the words before they came out. Would that be how he found out you liked him? Is that the sentence that would ruin your friendship? Sometimes you felt so very stupid.

“Okay I will.” With that he walked back to continue the game of spin the bottle with a huge smirk on his face. You couldn’t help but stare, eyes wide and mouth agape. You couldn’t help but wonder if that kiss meant nothing to him. As far as you knew that was his first kiss, and it was most defiantly yours.

As you were lost in your dark cloud of thoughts, your phone dinged making you jump a little. It was Jin texting you that he was already there to pick you up. If you were honest, you weren’t expecting him to be here this fast.

You quickly picked your bag off of the ground, slipped on your black and white checkered Vans, and made your way out the door. When you got to Jin’s car, you quickly threw your stuff in the back and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Where to Y/N?” You could still hear the sleep in his voice and see it in his eyes. He was wearing a simple grey Champion hoodie with black Nike joggers. His hair was all messy from sleeping and the moon perfectly aligned his features. You couldn’t lie, Jin was one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, but you prefer guys closer to your age. Plus, you like the younger brother anyway. Hey snap out of it you need to not like your best friend.

“Um, Y/N? Where do you want me to take you because if you don’t speak up, I will take you straight home.”

“Oh, sorry. Can I just crash at your guys’ place? I know Kookie’s not there but I don’t want my parents asking questions and to yell at me for waking you up.” Yes, you were playing the, ‘please don’t rat me out’ card. But you weren’t lying to him so what’s the problem?

“Sure, just sleep in Kook’s bed. You tend to snore sometimes.” He reached over to ruffle your hair with a huge grin on his face

“Hey! I do not snore!” You felt like a 5-year-old throwing a fit with the way you pouted out your bottom lip, crossed your arms over your chest, and sank into the seat.

“Whatever dork. Why do you want to leave early anyways? Did something happen?” You could tell he was genuinely concerned, and he was crazy good at keeping secrets so what was the harm in telling him about your mild crush on his little brother.

“At the party after Jimin’s parents went to sleep we all played spin the bottle and when it was Kookie’s turn I suddenly was really really nervous it would land on one of the other girls and I didn’t know why but then it landed on me and we kissed and now I think I have a moderately huge crush on him that I never realized I had before and I'm kind of freaking out. Don’t tell anybody though please,” You finally took a breath after your long and wordy run on sentence.

“You’re just now realizing?” Jin had a huge smile on his face and was laughing but you had no idea why.

“What do you mean ‘you’re just now realizing?’” You had no idea what he was talking about.

“Y/N you and Jungkook obviously have had huge crushes on each other for like ever. He admitted his to me a while ago.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing and you knew you would ask Jungkook about it the next time you saw him.

“Can you just take me to your place. It’s late and I'm tired,” After your friendly reminder Jin drove off to his house so you could sleep. He didn’t poke and prod at it any more and you were grateful. Jin was the older brother you never had and you were the little sister he always wanted.

When you woke up Jungkook was already there. You told him about how Jungkook told him that he had a crush on you. Jungkook shot you down almost immediately saying it was just a way to attempt to humiliate him. You felt hurt. Your best friend of years and your huge crush basically said it would be humiliating to have a crush on you. Lucky for you, you left very shortly after and spent your weekend preparing for your first year of high school and getting over your crush on Jungkook. Mostly.

****

Your freshman year was chaotic. You and Jungkook had only a few classes together so you almost drifted apart. It didn’t help that ever since the party Jungkook seemed to be hiding something from you. Something big. The only thing that kept you close was soccor and Jin. But after first semester Jungkook started hanging out with seniors and going to parties. You asked to go once, thinking that he would stay by your side and not let you be taken away by some guy you didn’t know. That wasn’t the case.

Once you entered through the doors Jungkook quickly left your side and got drunk. You caught him in a corner making out with a girl you had never seen before. Then you watched as he pulled her away to a room. Your curiosity got the best of you and you followed close behind. After a minute of them being alone in a room you began hearing moans. You were destroyed.

You quickly made your way to the door so you could go back home, when you ran into a very beautiful man. He couldn’t have been much older than you. He had beautiful chestnut hair and two beautiful dimples. You didn’t even bother asking for his name once you saw the mischievous glint in his eye. You let him lead you to a room, know what was going to happen.

That was how you lost your virginity. It wasn’t special liked you hoped it was going to be. You later learned his name was Jaehyun. It didn’t matter because you didn’t plan on talking to him again. Neither of you wanted anything more than sex that night.

You and Jungkook got into a fight one night. You don’t know what happened to start the fight. All you remember is that it ended with both of you in tears and him hugging you like he never wanted to let go. You made up and everything that happened before that was forgotten. Mostly.

You spent the rest of your school years studying hard and getting through all of your actual difficult classes so the only non-elective class you were taking senior year was your English class. Which you had with Jungkook, of course. You spent your summers with him and you both made it into varsity soccor. He knew the truth about your love for soccor when he heard you talking to your mom about it.

You still hadn’t had a boyfriend yet in your sophomore year. You were just too busy with school to actually try to get a dude’s attention, and you said your junior year was going to be different. You would meet a guy, get Jungkook’s approval, fall in love, have the ‘break up talk’ when you sign up for college, and most likely do just that, break up. The only key problem is that whenever you were walking in the halls and saw a cute guy Jungkook would always say he was a dick and that he doesn’t know how to treat a woman. You tended not to ask questions.

But now you were standing in front of your full-length body mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles in your outfit and occasionally touching up your make up or hair. Your first day of senior year outfit was simple but was sure to turn heads. You opted for a tight-fitted white crop top that showed your cleavage, skinny ripped jeans that hugged your ass perfectly that also had a rip under your left ass cheek, and your black heeled Timberland’s. Your hair was perfectly curled and your makeup looked flawless. You asked Jungkook to bring one of his black leather jackets for you to wear over everything. Damn you looked good.

Just as you were shaking out any last nervous jitters you heard a honk, indicating that your best friend was here to pick you up. You quickly grabbed your bag, ran down stairs, and grabbed two slices of toast for breakfast. Saying by to your parents you turned the nob of the door handle and ran out towards Jungkook’s car. As you opened the door to his red convertible, he looked at you and his jaw dropped. You missed the way his eyes scanned your figure and he darted out his tongue to wet his lips. He was eating you up in his mind, hoping you didn’t notice.

“Hey Kookie, do you have the jacket I asked for?” You handed him a piece of toast as your put on your seatbelt, shaking him out of his trance as he gave you said jacket.

“Ready for our first day? You’re going to be turning heads in that outfit,” You missed the way his eyes snuck a glance at your cleavage before driving off.

“I know right. I’ve been single all of high school so far and this year I want that to change.” You had a huge smile plastered across your face as you spoke. “I like your outfit by the way, it’s nice.” He was wearing black skinny jeans, black doc martins, a black tee, and a black faux leather jacket. And because of Jungkook’s new found passion of working out his thighs looked incredible.

“Thanks. Are we still going out to lunch so we don’t need to eat cafeteria food?”

“Duh, what else, and chew with your mouth closed you look like a 7-year-old.” You rolled your eyes and Jungkook did not miss the small and simple gesture.  

“Hey! You’re the one who became friends with this 7-year-old.”

“That’s not fair you were an angel sent from heaven, my savior. Now you’re just a jack-ass.

“I know you love me.”

“Jungkook what would you know. At first you thought that 7x7 was 64.”

“Oh my god woman will you just drop that I was in 3rd grade.” You both just laughed at each other’s silly antics from when you were younger until you pulled into the school’s parking lot. The second you stood up and walked over to walk in with your best friend, every one stopped and stared. It felt like one of those dramatic movie scenes where the wind is blowing and everything turns into slow motion while you hear the main characters internal monolog.

“Why is everyone staring at us, is something in my teeth? Did my makeup smudge?” You pulled at the side of his jacket making him lean down so you could whisper in his ear. Just because you were walking in 4-inch heels did not make you as tall as him.

“No dummy. We look like the ultimate power couple right now. The hottest girl and guy in school, of course they’re staring.” You were so busy nodding your head and looking at other people that you didn’t catch the way his eyes fell to the curve of your ass.

You walked into school going to your respectable homerooms, then meeting up in the hall to go to your shared English class. You noticed that the popular girls kept trying to befriend you. You knew it was because you were now a threat and they did not want you to be prom queen. Last year you weren’t but guess who was, Emily. You still didn’t like each other. You don’t know why you didn’t get along but it’s not like you wanted to be her friend or something.

You and Jungkook sat down next to each other talking about how weird the day had been. People were still staring but who could blame them, you both had huge summer glow ups.

When you looked up at the clock hanging above the door, you notice a boy you’ve never seen before. He was incredibly attractive and had a beautiful symmetric face. You felt like you were drooling while you stared at him. Then he looked over at you and smiled. How the hell does a man’s smile look like that. You finally met the man that would actually rival Jungkook’s own good looks.

“Hey can I sit here?” You jumped when he asked the question, not expecting his voice to also sound hot.

“Yeah, Y/N by the way.” You held out your hand for him to take, but instead of shaking it he placed an opened mouth kissed on your knuckles. Wow he was hot. It made your thighs clench. Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Taehyung, it’s nice to meet you Y/N.” You were so entranced by this new boy’s handsome good looks you didn’t see the terrifying daggers Jungkook was sending his way. He read him like a book. He would lead a girl on, take her innocence, and then leave her out to dry.

Jungkook didn’t just guess this either, he had Taehyung’s snapchat and snapped him one summer after he saw him at a party. Taehyung had told Jungkook his tactics, and Jungkook even went to his house where he witnessed him use those very tactics.

“There’s a party at my house Saturday night around 10 pm, if you give me your number, I can text you the details and you can come.” You turned to Jungkook giving him hopeful eyes until he sighed and nodded. After all you don’t go to a party without your best friend.

“As long as Jungkook, my best friend since 1st grade might I add, can come with.” You weren’t going without him and that was that. Taehyung agreed without hesitation and you gave him your number. You quickly regretted it though because once he opened his mouth you lost interest extremely quickly.

All he could seem to talk about was all of the girls he’s hooked up with and how he could get any girl he wanted. You knew what he was trying to get at and became bored very fast. You were actually extremely grateful when the class started.

You and Jungkook passed notes the entire time, all about the egotistical boy next to you. And even though you didn’t like him, you would go to his party because you wanted to actually live a little your senior year. But sadly, one potential future boyfriend was out the door and you were back at square one.

The rest of the week passed by fast and because you had mostly easy elective classes you had no homework over the weekend for the first time in years. Which meant you had all sorts of time to party. You texted Jungkook to pick you up at around 9 so you would have time to get ready but still be at the party in time.

****

You woke up around noon on Saturday from your alarm. You didn't wake up because you wanted to but because you didn’t want to ruin the sleep schedule you didn’t even have. Why did you wake up again? Anyways once you woke up from you slumber you texted Jungkook to clear up some last-minute details.

 Y/N

are you up yet? I just woke up. why dont I wake up like disney princesses?? I look like a monster :(

Kookie

Disney princesses are pretty thats why you don’t look like them in the morning or ever for that matter

Y/N

stfu your no prince charming either

Kookie

Really? Then why would almost every girl in our school blow me???

Y/N

If thats the case then why don’t you get some so you can stop complaining to me about how horny you always are??

Kookie

Because I have my right eye some one

Y/N

WHO?!?! and why havent I heard about this until now?? and why just your right eye??

Kookie

Because not EVERYTHING is your business smartypants and dont talk about my left eye

Y/N

whatever I will find out about this mystery girl though… MARK MY WORDS!! YOULL BE JUNGSHOOK

Kookie

Whatever you say smartypants whyd you text me anyways?

Y/N

Right! your still picking me up, RIGHT?!

Kookie

Its you’re, but yes I'm still picking you up

Y/N

Good, I will be ready in 3-4 hours :)

Kookie

You do know the party is at like 10 right

Y/N

THEN JUST PICK ME UP AT 10 GOD DAMNIT

Kookie

Not how you spell dammit but alright

Y/N

Stfu english nerd and good bye until 10

 With that your conversation with Jungkook ended and you started to binge watch Haikyu!! until around 6. Then you rolled out of bed and started getting ready. You got into the shower, shaving everything. You didn’t know what was going to happen tonight so you figured you would be extra prepared. You even used your exfoliator, if you anyone got to touch you, they would be lucky.

Then you did your hair. You curled it perfectly and then put it in a high pony tail. Perfect party hair in your opinion. Then you did your makeup making sure to keep it simple yet amazing. You opted for a winged liner, perfectly done brows, and dark red lipstick. Lastly was your outfit. Your room was a complete mess after you threw half of your closet onto the floor but your pretty sure you found a great outfit.

You put on your matching set of black lacy lingerie that made your ass look good and your boobs even better. You than grabbed a different white crop top with a dangerously low cut making your black lace peak out from the sides and small booty shorts that barely covered your ass. Then you grabbed the same leather jacket you wore on your first day of school and put on a pair of sneakers. You went to that party with Jungkook once so you knew how crazy and disgusting the ground could be.

By the time you were completely done it was already 8:47. You didn’t think it would take quite that long to get ready but at the same time you did. You were touching up your makeup when Jungkook texted you he was waiting. You didn’t tell your parents about the fact that you were going to a party and they knew that if they saw you dressed the way you were, they would flip. So like any other teen, you made plans to sneak out.

The only person you to actually worry about catching you was your dad because you knew if your mom caught you, she would laugh at you and tell you to have fun. Your dad on the other hand not so much.

Jungkook parked a block down from your house and turned off his car headlights so he wouldn’t be as noticeable. You opened your window as quietly was possible and began to scale your wall. Thankful that your bedroom window was the one closest to the gutter and that you chose sneakers as your shoes. Once you hit the ground safely, you bolted for Jungkook’s car and got in as fast as you could.

“Hey cutie,” Jungkook said wiggling his eyebrows. Luckily for him, his car lights were off so you didn’t catch him gaping at your breasts.

“Sup, you ready to party?” You asked as he turned on the car and started to drive where the GPS told him.

“Yes, now remember no sleeping with some random dude and no drugs”

“Same to you mister”

“Ok so if you want to stay out late text your mom and ask if you can spend the night at my house because my parents are out of town and Jin is going to this food thing with his friends for like three days.” Jungkook said as he merged into traffic.

“Good idea,” You pulled out your phone and texted your mom knowing she would understand much better than your father. “She said that’s fine”.

“Good so if you get hung over you don’t need to try and explain it to your mom,” Damn was Jungkook always this smart, and did he always look this good.

After driving the rest of the way, you pulled into Taehyung’s house and you were awestruck. It was huge and surrounded by hedges. You couldn’t see another house within a mile which was good because that means the cops won’t be called because of noise complaints.

You stepped out of Jungkook’s car and walked into Taehyung’s house immediately being greeted with the smell of alcohol and weed. You quickly got separated from Jungkook and made your way to the kitchen to fill a red solo cup half full with some beer you found and apple juice. You slammed it down, wincing as it made its way down your throat. It wasn’t the best tasting but it was better than the beer by itself.

Once you were done making yourself the same drink again, you made your way outside and found a huge pool with a jacuzzi right by it. You scanned the area, seeing a couple making out in the pool and three boys you didn’t quite recognize playing around in the pool. As you continued looking around taking another sip of your drink you noticed something strange. Standing next to the pool was Jungkook and Emily.

She was twirling her hair in her fingers and giggling while Jungkook looked her up and down smirking the entire time.

You know you’ve been telling Jungkook to get a girlfriend for years now, but you thought he knew you were just joking. For some odd reason you were upset. You didn’t know why at first. Maybe because you didn’t like Emily, maybe because you didn’t want Emily to steal him away from you. You were Jealous. You hated when it hit you like a pile of bricks. But you definitely  intended on doing something about it.

You quickly downed the rest of your drink in your red solo cup hoping it would give you more courage, and made your way over to them.

“Hey Jungkook I need to talk to y-,” You were walking towards him and before you knew it you were falling into the pool. Your first thought was that you tripped but when you resurfaced from the water you saw Emily looking at you with a sly grin. All you could do was glare.

“Oops,” Emily snickered as she grabbed out her phone and took several pictures of you. Great now your hot ass makeup and hair was completely ruined. Shit you’re wearing a WHITE shirt and BLACK bra that are now wet. You looked down to confirm it and sure enough your shirt was more than see-through. AND Jungkook’s leather jacket was ruined. At least you wore sneakers.

“What the fuck Emily,” You were startled from your stare down with the girl when you heard Jungkook’s low voice. It was loud and honestly kind of turned you on. Wait you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend like that. You shook the thought out of your head and looked up at Jungkook. His fists were balled up at his sides and his jaw was clenched. He looked fine as hell.

As you slowly made your way to the side of the pool, he took off his leather jacket and knelt down. Once you got to the side he reached down with both arms, inserted his hands under your armpits, and hoisted you out of the water. He then helped you take off his ruined leather jacket and threw it at Emily. “Happy now?” He then took his perfectly fine leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders instructing you to hold it closed. “Come on let’s go get you cleaned up.” He bent down and whispered it into your ear causing shivers to go down your spin. You could only nod in response.

As he led you towards the doors of the house, he yanked his jacket from Emily’s hand and gave her one of the scariest looks you’ve ever seen. All you did was smirk and stick your tongue out at her like a 5-year-old. You were very satisfied.

He led you through the crowd of people dancing and grinding on each other like they weren’t in a public setting. He then led you to what you assumed was going to be a bathroom but ended up being a bedroom. You couldn’t help but wonder how he knew his way around so well.

When you entered the room, you realized it was huge with a bathroom connected to it. “Why did you take me here instead of a normal bathroom?” You asked.

“Because most likely they are occupied by other people and I don’t really want to walk in on some other couple having sex. Especially when I'm with you.” What was that supposed to mean? “And before you ask how I know my way around, I used to be sort of friends with Tae. I only came here once when he tried hooking me up with some random chick and I guessed I just remembered my way around.” He was so honest so easily.

“Did you do anything with the chick?” You felt stupid the moment you asked.

“What?” You don’t know if he didn’t hear you or what but you still asked again.

“Did you do anything with her, the girl he tried hooking you up with?” You felt pathetic.

“I told you have my right eye on someone else.” He said leading you into the bathroom.

“Who is this lucky girl anyways?” You asked sitting on the sink countertop while you took off Jungkook’s jacket.

He paused, “Let’s just say, I played a game of spin the bottle at Jimin’s house before freshman year started. I kissed her. She was the only person I kissed that night. I realized that I had a massive crush on her but she left and felt hella crushed. I stopped playing and couldn’t help but feel like I was losing her forever. But I still spend all of my spare time with her and I couldn’t ask for a better best friend. Deep down I’m afraid that she will never like me back because of the girls I slept with freshman year but I want her to know that I only did that to try and convince myself that it I wasn’t in love with her. After I found out she slept with some random guy one night at a party that I took her to I came to my senses and let myself love her. I still regret the night I took her to that party because I wish I was the one to get to take her innocence away.”

You looked at him, you mouth agape, “oh” You knew he was talking about you.

You watched his eyes dart down to your lips as his tongue poked out lick his. His hands drifted down and grabbed your waist softly, just in case you wanted to stop him. He slowly leaned down, brushing your hair behind your ear and whispering in a deep raspy tone that made your panties wet, “You can stop me at any time”.

Within moments his soft, plush lips were on yours. Your hands made their way up his back and intertwined into his black curly locks, tugging harshly. Jungkook let out a low groan that made your body hot. One of his hands crept up and lightly brushed against your nipple making you gasp into the kiss. Jungkook didn’t waste any time and immediately his tongue was exploring your mouth.

Once you broke the kiss, gasping for air, Jungkook placed his hands underneath your thighs and picked you up, causing goosebumps to emit across your body. He carried you out of the bathroom, throwing you on the bed. You watched as he took off his shirt and crawled over you. You’ve seen him shirtless many times but this time it was different. You happy felt up his chest and you didn’t have to worry about him questioning you because he was kneeling over you, devouring you with his eyes.

Before you knew it, he was trying to take your shirt off. You gladly assisted him, pulling off your bra along with it. Once it was off and you looked up at him, you felt shy. Jungkook was just staring at your chest and wasn’t saying anything.

“Do you need to make it obvious that you don’t like my boobs?” Your hands went up to cover yourself. You were always insecure about them.

“Your right Y/N I don’t like your boobs; I fucking love them,” He quickly moved your hands away and leaned down. His mouth connected with your nipple, his tongue making your back arch into him. You felt yourself growing wetter by the second. His teeth gently grazed your nipple and you let out a loud whimper. You really hoped your great-grandma wasn’t watching you right now.

He left of your nipple with a pop and kissed his way to your other, leaving small hickeys marking his path. He did the same things to this one. You couldn’t wait anymore and moved your hand down to your core. You needed some sort of friction, but Jungkook’s hand stopped you.

“Ungrateful slut. I’m giving you all of this pleasure and you can’t wait. I want you to ride my thigh and maybe if I like what I see I’ll let you finish more than once tonight,” You looked at him in awe. When the fuck did he learn to talk like that. It was hot as hell but still.

He went and sat on the edge of the bed and looked at you. You werent sure what to do, so he pulled you onto his thigh. You froze up right away. You were straddling his thigh too afraid to do anything. He looked you dead in the eyes as his hands went down to your waist, forcing you to move. Relief flooded you. You were so happy that he finally let you have some sort of friction.

Your hands went to rest on his shoulders so it was easier to hold yourself up. You quickly started doing all of the work. Moving yourself at a fast pace on Jungkook’s thigh. You could feel his hard through his pants and it only made you more needy. He continuously clenched his thigh making you come undone even faster.

“Oh my god Jungkook. I think I'm gonna- I'm gonna cu-,” You let out shaky breath feeling that familiar knot build up in your stomach. Right as you were about to snap Jungkook stopped your hips from moving.

“Did you really think I was going to let you cum already? Go lay down.” You obeyed him quickly, watching as he kneeled down at the end of the bed. He grabbed your pants and with one swift motion slid them off, throwing them somewhere else in the room.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re so wet. I can’t wait to taste you. This good little pussy” He ripped your panties off of you, eliciting a loud groan. You were becoming impatient, squirming in front of him. He used his hand to hold your hips in place, while his other went to rub delicate circles on your clit. You watched as his face dove into you. Licking a stripe up your folds, collecting all of your juices.

“Fuck Y/N. You taste so good.” He groaned out, quickly diving back in. His eyes were blown out in hunger. He moved his hand away from your clit and replaced it with his tongue. Sliding one finger in you, moving at a slow pace and curling it, reaching your g-spot. A loud moan escaped you as you started trying to rock your hips against his face. Interlacing your fingers in his locks.

He pulled away to take a breath, “Do you think you can handle to fingers? Gotta prepare my baby for later. Yeah? I'm gonna stretch you out so good. Gonna destroy this pussy.” With that he inserted a second finger into you, reattacking your clit with his tongue. His pace kept intensifying. You could feel the familiar knot in your stomach build.

“Fuck Jungkook. I'm gonna-,” your words turned into a drawn-out moan when he hummed against your clit.

“Cum for me baby.” At that, the knot it your stomach snapped and relief washed over your body. You tried closing your legs but Jungkook held them open.

Once he was done lapping up all of your juices, he moved up and kissed you, hard. You could taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands made their way down to undo Jungkook’s pants. He broke away from the kiss and stood up, pulling his pants and underwear off in one swift motion.

You stared at his member for a second in awe. You knew he was big, but no that big. The tip was an angry red and you could see the veins. You were growing wetter just thinking about the delicious stretch.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said “I'm gonna have to go in raw.”

You smiled up at him, bucking your hips up towards his hard to get some sort of friction. “I'm on birth control.” That was all you needed to say before he slowly started entering you. The stretch being uncomfortable.

“You okay?” He asked worry on his face. You shook your head, “It’s just, new.”

He smiled, “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

After a moment you shook your head, giving him the okay to start moving again. He slowly pulled out all the way before pushing in again, hitting your g-spot as he did. You could feel the veins on his cock, and your legs wrapped around his small waist as your hands wrapped around his neck.

He slowly started to pick up the pace, pulling out all of the way before pushing back in. It wasn’t long before the pain morphed into pleasure. Moans spilling from your lips. The louder you moaned the faster he went.

“Ha-harder, da-daddy,” you didn’t mean to say it, but when you did his head snapped up.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He starting snapping his hips into yours. You could hear the head board hitting the wall with each thrust but you didn’t mind at all. All you felt was bliss.

“Da-addy I-I'm gonna c-cum.” Your walls started clenching around him.

“Fuck baby, cum. Cum for daddy” With that you did. Your release hit you hard. Your legs shaking as you dug your nails into his back piercing a few layers of his skin. Moaning out his name.

Even after you came, he kept pounding into you, chasing his own high. Beautiful moans escaping his lips as he did. Your moans making him close. His body was coated in a layer of sweat.

“Cum in me daddy. Please. Fill me up.” You choked out as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“Fuck, I'm going to cum.” You tightened around him one last time, feeling as his seed shot into you. You both laid there for a moment. Neither one wanting to leave. You could feel your mixed juicing seeping out of your whole as he began to soften inside you.

He slowly pulled out of you, “You need to go to the bathroom.” He picked you up bridal style from the bed and walked you over to the bathroom. Setting you down on the toilet so you could pee. When you were done, he picked you up and set you on the counter, taking a warm rag and cleaning you off making you sigh at the pleasant feeling. He carried you back to the bed and laid you down, getting into his boxers.

He laid down next to you and covered you both with the blanket, before wrapping his arm around tightly around your waist. His chin on your head as he cuddled you. It wasn’t long before you both drifted off to sleep

****

When you woke up and saw your best friend next to you, sleeping peacefully, you were relieved. Relieved that it wasn’t a dream and relieved that he didn’t up and leave in the middle of the night to leave because he regretted it. You leaned over and draped your arm over his torso and snuggled up to him, resting you head on his arm. He groaned, making you halt your actions.

“Good morning beautiful.” He said with a smile, kissing you on the top of your head.

You smiled happy it was him you woke up next to, “Morning.”

****

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. :) Send any ideas you have for anything. P.S The gif wouldn’t load :( so sorry about that. 

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language and violence Warnings: Choking (kinda) Summary: Local feral human makes a friend, tries to sleep next to local mean vampire, then gets a taste of their own medicine Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!

3: Haunt Me Dearly

What a lovely crimson mess I’ve made, you think, watching as the last of the bloody water drained from the bathtub. There were still several splashes of red along the sides, where you had leaned on or otherwise touched. Frowning, you considered whether or not to clean up after yourself. Surely it wouldn’t be one of your captors doing the cleaning? In that case, you think, I don’t want to make any enemies out of the servants. First you had to finish binding your wounds. Wouldn’t want to risk getting them dirty so soon after washing them, after all. Except you weren’t even sure that you could properly wrap them on your own, considering the positioning of your injuries.

“Ah, fucking hell…” You muttered, scowling a little. Then you remembered that Cassandra had sent a maid to wait outside the bathroom for you. Maybe they could help? Nodding to yourself, you threw on your new undergarments and pair of trousers, deciding to save the shoes for later. Once you were ‘decent’, you slowly opened the door, peeking out from behind it. Before long you were making eye contact with an unfamiliar woman, who looked very confused. “Any chance you could help me bandage my shoulder? I can’t do it without help, and something tells me Cassandra’s not going to lend me a hand.” With that said, you gave her a friendly smile, hoping to make up for the awkwardness of the situation.

“Of course! It is my honor to serve a guest of my Lady,” the maid- servant, maybe- said, giving a short curtsy. Admittedly you’re a little confused by her response. Still, you gladly welcome her assistance, moving back into the bathroom to grab the gauze. Although you intend to do as much as you can on your own, the woman is quick to take over completely. “Please, allow me,” she continued, carefully beginning to wrap your wounds.

“Are all the workers here so polite? I can’t imagine anyone actually enjoys working here, all things considered,” you mused, squinting at the middle distance. At that, the servant tenses up, clearly not expecting you to speak ill of her employers. Well, she had called you a guest. “Don’t be surprised, friend. Less than an hour ago I was fit to be consumed by ‘your Lady Cassandra’. Only reason I’m not dead right now is because of a stupid blood bond,” you explained, tone dripping with irritation. This time the servant doesn’t flinch at all, instead nodding slowly, taking a moment to let your words sink in. During this pause, you decide to introduce yourself, just in case the two of you might see each other frequently.

“I… see. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, no matter the circumstances of your presence here. You can call me Daphne, though I must warn you that I am not one for, ahem, gossip about my masters,” she replied, finishing her binding of your shoulder wound. Next she searched through the cabinet by the sink, looking for a medicinal salve of some sort. Once she found it she was right back to work. The substance stung a tad on your skin, but you could hardly complain, seeing as it would help fight off possible infections.

“You sure about no gossip? What if we call it ‘helping me get acclimated to my new situation’? I’m a fish outta water here, Daphne,” you suggested, turning your head to look her in the eyes. At first she ignored you, focusing on rubbing the medicine into your skin. Eventually she meets your gaze, briefly, and releases a quiet sigh.

“You are free to ask questions-” you start to celebrate, though not for long- “just as I am free to withhold answers. Though I may be more responsive if you can tell me one thing… Why was Lady Cassandra’s dress wet?” Daphne asked, making you freeze in place. Of course she wanted the one answer you didn’t feel confident about giving. She’s quick to notice this, though, and laughs to herself. “Well, I suppose some things must remain a mystery. Now let’s get your face cleaned up…”

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

By the time you make it to Cassandra’s room, the sun is starting to rise, leaking in through the castle windows. Exhaustion weighs you down, making you want to fall immediately into the nearest bed. As it stands, that was none other than your soulmate’s, though it was currently occupied. For a moment you hover in her doorway, contemplating whether or not you should steal her blanket. Floor can’t be too bad, you think, right? Before you can decide you notice Cassandra stirring from her sleep.

“What took you so fucking long?” She asked groggily. Now she’s sitting up, blanket clinging loosely to her body, and you realize that she’s not wearing a shirt. Though a blush rishes up your cheeks, you’re certain it’s too dark for Cassandra to notice. Or at least you hope so. Wanting to think about something other than what she was (or was not) wearing, you focus your energy on responding.

“Isn’t it obvious? I got invited to a sick orgy on the way back, and I wasn’t about to turn that down, so…” You trailed off, gesturing idly with your hands. The movement stretches your shoulder more than you’d like, resulting in an ache that lasts several seconds. It distracts you to the point where you almost can’t catch the object Cassandra promptly throws at you. “What the hell…?” It’s a shoe, as far as you can tell, that definitely would have hurt, had it hit its intended target. “Such a lovely gift, babe. I will treasure it for the rest of my days, forever keeping it as a reminder that you-” your tone shifts from a false joy to deadpan- “are a piece of shit. Now, seriously, where am I supposed to sleep? Is there a walk-in closet I can camp in? Or do I get the bed, while you sleep in a fucking coffin or something?”

Before Cassandra has a chance to respond, you’re walking further into her room, wanting to take a quick look around. There’s a large dresser that you quickly toss her shoe inside, as well as a window sill with a built-in reading nook. Trading your tiredness for sheer dickery, you throw open the curtains, letting the light pour in (and nearly blind you in the process). Half of you expects your soulmate to screech in response. Maybe even turn to ash. Instead, you hear her moving, and you turn to find her laying back down, facing away from you.

“When you’re done fucking around, come over here and sleep. I will knock you out if I have to,” Cassandra muttered, still sounding half asleep. As much as you wanted to know if she’d go through with her threat, you are exhausted. Begrudgingly you approach the bed. It’s certainly large enough for two people, even having enough room for you to be completely separate from each other. When you start to climb in, you find yourself overwhelmed for a moment, surprised at the quality of the sheet fabric. Exactly how rich were these vampiric assholes? This room alone seemed to be worth more than you had ever known.

This was, perhaps, the one bright side to your situation: A comfortable state of existence. Well, as comfortable as one could get in a place like this. So lovely on the outside, a muse worthy of a thousand artists, yet hiding far darker horrors within… much like the woman you now found yourself laying beside. Why me? Why her? What could possibly bring the two of us together, you think, other than a cruel fate? There’s a pain in your chest, dishearteningly similar to heartache. Damning the universe, and your blood bond, and yourself, you think ‘fuck it’ before sliding closer to Cassandra. One arm drapes itself over her waist, while you slowly lean your head against her back.

In an instant she’s tense, not even breathing, waiting for you to reveal whatever trick hid up your sleeve. But no trick comes, just your hand meeting hers, squeezing softly. Suddenly the tension is gone. None remains, not even lingering in the air, and the two of you soon drift off to sleep...

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

Shaking, body made a wreck through tremors, tears staining her cheeks. Breathing comes hard, each shift of her lungs bringing with it a mighty ache. Someone’s holding her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, fingers tracing circles against her back. But she’s lost in her dream, eyes clenched shut. Visions flash before her gaze like lightning in a storm. There’s no time to process, no opportunity to prepare for the thunder that follows. Every strike is a punch to the gut she can’t ignore. When release finally comes, it is not a gentle kiss to her forehead, or a reassuring hand on her own, but rather an intense surge of pain that jolts her awake.

Cassandra nearly screams as she sits up, hands reflexively going to hold her head. One of them stings, bad, and she notices what look like bite marks on the side. For a moment her confusion acts as a welcome distraction. Then she’s looking next to her, and the puzzle practically puts itself together. There you are, one hand in your mouth, an eyebrow raised as you stare at her. Ignoring the lingering memories of her dream, she turns all of her rage towards you. Quickly she grabs ahold of your arm, forcefully yanking your hand out of your mouth, even though it makes your teeth dig in a little deeper. It takes more willpower than she wants to admit to stop herself from strangling you right then and there.

“I didn’t know monsters could even have nightmares,” you taunted. Before you know what’s happening, Cassandra is lunging towards you, pressing her forearm against your throat. There’s just enough pressure to make talking difficult. Both of her yellow eyes are filled with hatred, aimed right at you, but you can’t help but laugh. “Ya know, I did try to wake you up nicely. I should have known you only respond to violence. Next time, though, I’ll remember to stay a safe distance away.”

“You don’t know anything, dipshit. Anyone else would know better than to spout so much fucking ignorance, but nobody taught you how to behave, huh?” Cassandra growled, applying more pressure with her arm, leaving you unable to reply (for once). “You’re a goddamn mutt, aren’t you? Thrown to the street like the garbage you are, left to live in the gutter, feeding off of trash like a fucking cannibal. You should be honored to be allowed anywhere near me. You should be worshiping me, for fuck’s sake!” Black dots form in your vision, a dark halo edging into the corners of your eyes, as your lungs beg for air. But you’re grinning. You’re showing your teeth, bright and proud, knowing full well that you have won this round. As soon as realization dawns on Cassandra’s face she’s pulling herself off of you.

Still, you are left gasping, clutching at your neck as she hurriedly gets dressed for the day. By the time you can see properly again, she’s left without another word. Even as she stalks down the corridor, eagerly rushing away from you, she hears your laughter howling through the castle. It digs into her brain, taunting her. Soon enough you’ll stop, light headed, but she will still hear it echoing inside her mind. You’ll haunt her just as much as her wicked dreams. Hopefully more.

[bruhstories]

Home for the Holidays

summary: you come back home for the holidays and get a very warm welcome. pairing: stepbro!armin x female!reader warnings & content: stepcest, fingering, unprotected sex, dom!armin, sub!reader word Count: 2k-ish

a/n: umm, don't go around fucking your stepbros? i mean i can't stop you but sweet home alabama should play in your head if you do it. also sorry if this feels a bit rushed, i don't even have time to breathe | @mikasascabin @armins-futon

Pop!

Incessant, irritating sounds of gum popping, then smacking against your teeth, the annoying chewing that came out of your mouth, the infuriating tapping of your leg, the exasperating drumming of your fingers against the kitchen table — it's driving Armin insane. It's been driving Armin insane for years. And despite the fact that you're both adults now, you still can't get along. He's smart, quiet and a workaholic, you're a social butterfly who works smart, not hard.

"Armin, Y/N, you're not leaving this kitchen until you solve your conflict and apologise." His mom would say. It used to be your punishment when Armin and you were kids — and it's your punishment even know. You roll your eyes, gum popping all over your face and the tip of the nose. Armin snickers at the disgusted look on your face, mumbling a serves you right under his nose.

Sometimes you wondered if the tension between you and him was sexual. But... it couldn't be, could it? You were his damn stepsister, yet when you came back home for Thanksgiving, Armin was a whole different person. Fresh cut, a change of wardrobe, a better attitude — he was hot, no longer the nerd you used to tease. You study him from across the table after cleaning your face, lower lip between your teeth, head in your hands.

"You heard your mommy, Armin, apologise and let's get this over with."

"Me? You're the one who came home and ruined everything."

"Ruined what? A shitty dinner with a family who doesn't give a fuck about me? No, bro, I improved everything." You lean back in your chair and nonchalantly slam your feet on the table. "Not that you would know what it's like to be in my shoes, anyway."

"Your shoes? What about mine?" Armin slams his fists on the table. "At least no one expects anything from you."

"Wow, thanks." You get up and he realises just how nasty he sounded.

"Wait-"

"Fuck off." You dash past him with tears in your eyes. He was right, your father never expected anything from you, nor did your stepmother. Armin, on the other hand, was a genius, a straight A student and now he even received a scholarship from his university. Of course, people had high expectations from him and in a way, that made you jealous.

'Oh, Armin, we're so proud of you!'

'Armin, you did great!'

'Did you know Armin won an international maths competition?'

You shut the door to your room and crawl under your blanket. You always tried your best, but you could never compete with him. And your father, your ownfather, sometimes seemed to love Armin more than you. Minutes pass before you hear your stepmother rushing with your father to go visit some of your relatives and you hope Armin would go with them, but you're unlucky today. Once the car leaves the driveway, a soft knock makes you snap your neck up.

"Go away."

"Y/N, please, I didn't mean to say that."

"I don't care!" You throw a book at the door but Armin still won't budge.

"Open the damn door!"

"Why, so you can brag about how you're the perfect child?"

"So I can apologise, you... you bitch!"

Silence. Your ears ring with the word and Armin knows he fucked up big time. In a flash, the door is open and you're ready to kick him in the shin but for some reason, when you see his face, you stop.

"Apologise, then, and apologise for calling me a bitch, you little shit!"

"God, why do you hate me so much? You tormented me ever since you moved in with us!"

"Well, genius, has it ever occurred to you that maybe I never wanted this?"

"Of course it has! But you're always so cold and all I wanted was to talk to you. I don't even know your favourite colour and you're supposed to be my sister!" His voice is soft and sorrowful and you fold your arms across your chest.

"I don't want to be your sister."

"Then what do you want? You're always bitch but when I bring a girl over, you're suddenly overprotective."

"You do the exact same thing, dumbass! Every time! You act like a sad puppy but the moment you hear I'm going out with a guy you turn into some alpha male." You frown and grab the door handle. "This conversation is over."

"No, it's not." He puts his foot in the door and you narrow your eyes at his low voice and different demeanour.

"Yes, it is. Go do some studying for uni." You try to close the door but suddenly he's so much stronger. Has he been working out?

"You think this is all I do? Work and study? You think I'm some kind of teacher's pet who doesn't break rules?" You don't even realise when he's in your room, hands on your shoulders and his face so close to yours. "You think I'm an angel? A saint?" The words drip from his tongue with so much venom and your body softens. This is so unlike him but you can't help but be intrigued.

"Armin, please-"

"Oh, I'm Armin now? Not some shitty nickname? What’s the matter, can’t come up with a clever insult?" His thumb grazes over your cheek and you feel the hairs on your arms stand up. You like this side of Armin, and the fact that for three years you were his stepsister went down the drain. "I tried to be good, Y/N, I tried to be nice. But you don't like nice, do you?"

You shake your head with lidded eyes, drinking his touch, but a sharp pain from a slap wakes you up from your thoughts.

"Talk."

"N-no, I don't like nice!"

"It's unbelievable what a good girl you are when I press the right buttons."

You know it now, why you've always acted this way with Armin — you don't want him to see you as his stepsister, not even as his friend — you want to be his lover. In his ocean blue eyes, you can see that he wants the same thing — they are filled with lust and desire. You don't want to speak, afraid you might ruin this moment, but at the same time you have questions to ask and answers to get. Armin catches your mind drifting elsewhere and another slap across your already stinging cheek brings your full attention to him.

"I know what you like, Y/N. You fucked enough of my friends for me to know exactly what you want."

"Excuse me? You talk to your friends about how your sister fucks them?"

"Stepsister." He corrects you, his fingers tangled in your locks. "What would our parents say if they found out what a filthy slut you are?"

"I-" You want to say something, come up with a snarky remark, but the words die in your throat and your brain turns to mush. Armin leans closer, his hot breath tickling your ear.

"I bet I can fuck you better than any of them." He whispers and just then you feel your aching cunt begging to be filled with his cock.

"Armin..." You try again, but you still don't know if you want him to stop or carry on. It all feels so wrong but so right at the same time.

"Tell me what you want, Y/N." He nibbles on your earlobe, goosebumps dotting your skin.

"I don-" You choke on your words when you feel his hand slither under your shirt, fingers playing with your nipple.

"Come on, talk." Armin is now gently kissing the crook of your neck and your knees almost give in. Truthfully, no man ever made you feel so weak, so needy.

"Please, I want you!" You tried to whisper but it came out as a desperate cry.

"That's not good enough." He pinches your sensitive bud and you yelp, back hitting the door.

"I want you to f-fuck me, please, Armin! Fuck me good!"

"Much better." He presses his lips onto yours and he can taste the bubblegum you so annoyingly chewed when you let his tongue part open your mouth.

You don't have a clue when your clothes disappeared, scattered on the floor, along with your and his underwear, and frankly you don’t even care. Armin has you down on all fours on the mattress, two fingers pumping into your sweet cunt as you pathetically moan his name.

"Look at you! Such a filthy whore, all wet for your stepbro."

"Oh, God- want you inside-"

"I know, princess. Be patient." He curls his fingers in ways you didn't think were possible, but then you feel his tongue lazily dragging up and down your slit and you let yourself fall on the bed, face down, ass up. You had guys go down on you before, but the way Armin did it was incredible. He was meticulous, attentive, careful to let you know exactlywho owned your cunt. When he feels your thighs shake, he pulls away, earning a dissatisfied sigh of protest from you as you jolt back up.

"No, no. You're not coming yet." He yanks you by the hair, fingers gripping your chin and turning your head to the side. Armin presses his body against yours, and you feel his throbbing cock resting on your ass as he eagerly kisses you. "You taste good, don't you?"

You nod back, unable to form a coherent sentence, all you could do was push your ass against him, yearning to be filled.

"Armin, please, I need to feel you. Please!"

"Shit, I didn't think you'd be so fucking needy. Do you think you deserve it?"

"Yes, yes! I promise I'll be good from now on! Please!"

"You better keep your promise, Y/N." He growls, pushing you back on the mattress, the glistening tip of his cock positioned at your entrance. “Otherwise, I’ll have to punish you.” Inch by inch, he bottoms out and you throw your head back, spongy walls clenching around his cock. Thick and long, Armin was by far the biggest man you've been with, and you really didn't expect this. Yet when he started pounding into your cunt, you didn't regret coming home for the holidays.

"H-harder!" You beg him and you can feel his shit-eating grin burning into your back because he is the one making you feel this way, and he knows that after tonight, you'll always come crawling to him. Armin didn't waste any time, his thrusts became harsher and deeper, cock sliding in and out of you making your head fuzzy.

"You're so tight, so wet. Bet you don't get this wet for others."

"I don't! Oh, fuuuck, right there!"

Beads of sweat form on his forehead, fingers digging into your flesh as you buck your hips against his. It's been a while since he fucked you, your whimpers echoing in the bedroom, his name rolling down your tongue perfectly. You’re made for him. But all good things come to an end, and shortly you felt the need for release, thighs quaking and pleasure flushing through your entire body. Armin is close, too, but Armin also wants to humiliate you and remind you where your place is. He pulls out, cock in one hand, locks of your hair in his other.

"Promise you'll be good?"

"Promise!" You look at him with glossy eyes.

"Close your eyes." The man demands and you obey, hot strings of his seed spilling onto your face, and you lick your lips to taste him. Sinful, yet divine. Right, yet wrong. "Get yourself cleaned up."

You sit on the couch, legs on Armin's lap when your father and stepmother come back home. You can't even focus on the movie, all you can think about is your stepbrother's cock stretching you out and filling you good.

"Huh, I've never seen you two getting along this well." Your father comments. "Look at them, finally behaving like proper siblings."

"Took you long enough!" Armin's mother smiles. "What did you do?"

"We talked." Armin replies with his usual joyful voice but you know better than that. You know exactly the kind of person he is behind closed doors.

"Well, at least now we're finally a happy family." His mother pats you on the shoulder.

"Yeah," you grin, "one biiiiig, happy family."

[sparklyslug]

Hiiiiiiii!! For the ask meme: 🦅💞🤲

HIIIIII 💖💖💖💖

(Fanfic writer ask meme! With bonus emojis!)

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

The latter, unless I’m working with a particular trope-shaped structure. But even with that, there’s a lot of working out as I go along. Like for Three Weddings and a Funeral, we generally knew from the start what the weddings+funeral would be, but we made a LOT of discoveries and choices along the way. @greenlikethesea and I are similar in this way I think, which is probably one of several reasons why writing with them is just a joy and delight and feels so natural.

While I don’t outline I do believe in jumping around/jumping ahead to another point if I feel moved to get to a different scene, or the one I’m in is giving me issues. It’s easier to skip back and fill in connective bits, than to just plow straight through determinedly when I know I’d rather be somewhere else in the story.

💞 who’s your comfort character?

U REALLY NEED TO ASK???? REALLY????

I love him (hisses through gritted teeth, fists clenched)

🤲 Would you please share a snipped of a wip?

This is from a @greenlikethesea collab that is NOT Fair Ithilien verse. We’re giving you range, baby! Been noodling around in this one for a while and are still figuring it out. But I loooooove what we have so far so it’s worth the wait I think.

For a split-second, he considers playing along. Lets the narrative unfold in his mind: that world in which he has been excitedly receiving lovelorn notes from some sweet, pretty thing. Tries to conjure her face in his mind, the type of girl who would be too afraid to speak to him face-to-face, but bold enough to put words to paper anyway. Letting her perfectly round and looping penmanship do the talking for her, dotting her is with hearts, spritzing the page with some sweet perfume. Something that would linger on this Alternate Universe’s Eddie’s hands and his jacket, where in this world he is keeping her notes pressed close to his heart, where he treasures them and waits hopefully for the next one.

He’s got a decent imagination, but he can’t make himself dream up her face with any clarity. And any perfume she’d use would probably just give him a headache. This Universe’s Eddie has no admirers, secret or otherwise.

He opens the sheet of paper (regular notebook paper, he rubs a thumb over where it’s been ripped away from spiral binding, the jagged little strips left behind) and stares at it, unseeing.

“Hate to disappoint, but it’s a matter of business,” he says. Gareth and Jeff deflate, but seem to immediately buy it. People have tried to get Eddie’s attention in weirder ways than this to score some weed, after all.

“Damn,” Gareth says. “Was kind of hoping to start the year off with some intrigue here.”

Eddie is a little touched by how he’s bought into the fantasy, strangely. “Don’t look so glum, chum,” he says, kicking his feet in the air and leaning back to rest his hands on the van’s roof behind him, warmed by the September sun and hot against his palms. “Between scoring some tail and scoring some cash, I’ll take the cash every time. Well–” he pauses theatrically, considering. “–almost every time.”

Gareth and Jeff chuckle appreciatively the way he knew they would, and drift off towards their own cars and rides home. Eddie watches them go, chest warm and a little tight with affection, with wishing he could always be the kind of center point they need him to be.