#i will not elaborate why i put a choker around his neck

[paron1a]

Yeah.... Springtrap is also my comfort character although he is not looking so comfort :\

[trafficlife]

Spring Shall Never Come

Martyn always had the feeling that he was missing something, something important to him. He could never put his finger on it... Until it washes up on the shore, along with many repressed memories.

word count: 913

AO3 Link

Shortly after turning red, Martyn's appearance began shifting to express his newfound bloodlust (even though he was planning his birthday party and not any elaborate traps).

The coral and kelp around his head and limbs were overgrown and dried, his hair had grown out—long enough for Scott to braid it for him, and his eyes were crimson red. He looked more like a shipwrecked pirate than anything (which was what he was going for with his white shirt, black vest, and brown leather boots, plus the bandana around his head that kept the coral and kelp in place) but he couldn't help but feel that something was missing.

The feeling haunted Martyn for weeks, ever since he started this game. There wasn't a way for him to describe it, other than ghosts from his past—a past he didn't even remember—haunting him. But it confused Martyn. He was always good at keeping himself on track. He seldom forgot anything important. So what was he missing?

While changing the sand in his hourglass, from yellow to red, he saw something floating in the azure water out of the corner of his eye. After placing the last few grains of sand, Martyn went to check it out. Something red was floating in the water, making its way to the island. He kneeled to pick it up. It was a red cloth that, despite being completely soaked, had no visible threads and appeared very well-crafted.

He wrung out the cloth, the droplets falling onto the sand and turning it into mush, before unfurling it. The moment the cloth fully unwrapped, he felt his entire body jolt, as if he immediately respawned after being killed and losing his time. He threw the cloth aside, scooting away from it in a panic, kicking up sand. His head pulsed, memories rushing through at an uncomfortably fast pace. His heart thumped against his chest, threatening to leave it at any moment.

It can't be. It just can't be!

Slowly, Martyn turned his head back toward the cloth, black tar forming in his stomach. It wasn't just a cloth. It was more important than that. So important, that it returned to him like a pet who found its way back to its owner.

It was the banner of Dogwarts.

For about five minutes Martyn paced around the sand, digging himself a grave as he did so. He had so many questions but all of these new memories provided answers to most of them, which was both relieving and overwhelming.

It explained why axes felt weird to Martyn, making his hands clammy and trembling whenever he grasped them. Subconsciously, he never moved on from beheading his king. It reminded him of the bloodstained Red Winter Axe, of the choker of blood that permanently wrapped around Ren's neck after he respawned.

It explained the feeling of longing in his heart. Ren wasn't present in this game and that subconsciously affected Martyn as well. He had been so loyal to Ren, even in the previous two games, when Ren seemed to have moved on from Dogwarts. That realization made Martyn's heart sink.

Why was he still holding on? In a way, it was Martyn that started the winter. It was Martyn himself who killed Ren. It was Martyn who was responsible for Red Winter. By now, so many years later, it should have ended. The ice should have melted and the flowers should have bloomed.

So why did it feel like Martyn never moved on? Why didn't the flowers bloom for him?

He picked up the banner and carefully shook off the sand, inspecting it. It was still the same, after all this time. A blood-red banner with snow-white triangles at the very edge. There weren't even any loose threads to remove or holes to patch up.

Martyn exhaled sharply. "This... This has to be some sort of silly joke, right?" He chuckled nervously. "I mean, how would this banner come to me, perfectly fine at that? It's been years!" He looked up towards the starry sky. "I mean, it shouldn't even come to this world. This is a different world! But..." He bit his lip as he stared at the banner again.

No matter what, I'm still the hand. I'm still loyal to him. Even if he's not present in this game, I'm still his hand.

Up until this point, Martyn was more of an unguided hand than anything. He had the feeling of longing, of missing something dear to him, but he never figured it out. Now, the answer had come to him. It was sudden and a bit terrifying, but at least now he knew what his purpose was.

He took the banner, folded it once, wrapped it around his waist, and knotted it so it would stay secure. A gentle breeze came, tickling Martyn's skin and blowing through the banner like the sail on a ship.

Now, Martyn felt complete.

Even if Ren wasn't present, even if he moved on from the winter, Martyn would never lose sight of who he truly was.

He was the hand, the most loyal soldier, the one who initiated Red Winter.

But unfortunately for Martyn, he was the only one that was still frozen in the past, with blizzards and frost in his mind. His memories were frozen in place, for all eternity, incapable of melting.

Martyn didn't care all that much. Even though it meant Spring would never come for him.

[melzula]

Come What May

third and final installment of the Fire Lilies series

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, some mean Zuko, forbidden lovers au

notes: thank you all for the love & support you’ve given this series. although it’s over, if you still have any questions or are curious about what happens to Zuko and the Princess along the way feel free to ask me and I’ll be happy to elaborate! enjoy!

summary: you put your trust in Zuko and agree to run away with him. But have you made the right choice?

part one | part two

“I’ve been challenged to an Agni Kai.”

“I’m engaged.”

The two of you stare at each other stunned, eyes wide and stomachs immediately filling with dread.

“What?” Zuko breathes quietly. His voice is barley above a whisper and he refuses to make eye contact with you, but you don’t miss the way his body begins to tremble with emotion.

“With my father gone and my mother growing older I need someone to provide and take care of me,” you explain weakly with guilt present upon your features. “I’ve been given away to the son of my father’s most trusted advisor.”

Zuko’s eyes widen in horror as you carefully tug the collar of your coat away from your neck to reveal your betrothal necklace. The jewelry rests daintily against your skin, the carved stone almost shimmering underneath the light that reflects across the ice that surrounds you, and it takes every fiber of his being to restrain himself from ripping the thing right off of you. You were meant to be his fiancé, his wife, and yet here you were claiming to be the promised bride of a boy who wasn’t Zuko. A part of him felt sick, and though he knew it was beyond your control he couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

“Tell me you’re not going to marry him,” Zuko demands, his voice calm and unwavering despite his aggravated state.

“Zuko...”

“Tell me you’re not,” he urges you now as he grasps at your forearms and pulls you closer to him. If you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was furious by the way he was holding you, but in reality he was just desperate and afraid. “Y/n, tell me.”

“It’s not that easy,” you try to reason, “it wasn’t my choice.”

“Exactly, it wasn’t your choice! So don’t marry him!” Zuko insists firmly.

“If I don’t marry him I risk bringing dishonor to my family and to my people. I’m the Princess, Zu. Even if I tried to say no it wouldn’t matter. Becoming a wife to a member of our tribe is part of my duty as Princess. I’m so sorry.”

Your heart aches for Zuko as he slowly removes himself from you, and both of you choose to ignore the handprints that have been charred into the fabric of your coat from where he had once grabbed you. He was good at controlling his temper around you, but his temperature was a completely different story; it was a wonder that he hadn’t somehow burnt you yet.

“What about your Agni Kai?” You press gently, taking one of his hands in both of yours before bringing it close to your chest and over your heart. A small sigh accompanied by a breath of fire escapes Zuko at the action and warms your cool cheeks.

”One of the war generals at the council threatened your life,” Zuko explains dully. You squeeze his hand tightly in response. “I spoke out of turn in your defense, and now I’ll have to duel him. I know I can take him, but what I can’t take is someone who isn’t me being able to call themselves your husband.”

“I’ll always be yours, Zuko.” He says nothing as you wind your arms around his torso and nuzzle your face against his chest, but he can’t help himself from returning your embrace and holding you impossibly tight against him.

“Then run away with me,” he says. A small gasp escapes you as you pull away to look up at him with wide eyes.

“Run away?”

“Yes, run away. As soon as the Agni Kai is over and I win, I’ll come get you and we can leave. We’ll go wherever you’d like, it doesn’t matter as long as we’re together. Please, Princess.”

“I... I’ve heard Ba Sing Se is the place people go to get a fresh start,” you reply with an uneasy smile. Zuko rewards you with a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll leave in three days. Meet me by the docks at midnight and bring only what you need,” he instructs before gently cupping your face in his hands. “We’re going to be so happy together, y/n.”

You smile as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss, but you can’t help the uneasiness that stirs in the pit of your stomach. The thought of running away with Zuko is exhilarating, yet something in the back of your mind is begging you not to go, warning you that things will not be as you planned them to be. But your body succumbs to the sensation of Zuko’s lips against your own, and before you can stop it you find yourself sinking further and further into his warmth.

~~~

It’s not easy having to turn your back on your people and leave the only life you’ve ever known behind, but the journey that lies ahead of you is enough to convince you that leaving the Southern Water Tribe behind is for the best. You’d never be happy in a marriage with someone you didn’t love, and you’d forever resent your parents and your people from keeping you tied down to one place forever. You would be happy with Zuko, there’d be many new sights to see and so many new experiences to have. It was for the best.

You arrive at the docks by midnight per Zuko’s instructions, a backpack full of what little belongings you could bring along with you resting upon your shoulders. This is most likely the last time you’ll ever see the South Pole again and a sense of bitter sweetness washes over you as you take one final look at your home. When the sun rises your mother will find the note you’ve left behind and Princess y/n of the Southern Water Tribe will be no more.

A ship slowly emerges from the distance, the Fire Nation emblem displayed proudly for all to see, and nervous excitement tingles through your body as you prepare to leave your home once and for all.

The Zuko that descends from the ramp of the ship to greet you is not the same Zuko you had seen just a few days ago. The boy before you now has completely transformed both physically and emotionally. The long hair you loved to comb your hands through so much is gone with only a ponytail of hair remaining at the back of his head. You try not to stare at the patch tied securely around his head and over his left eye in fear of upsetting your boyfriend, but he doesn’t even bother to explain it.

When he approaches you it is with purpose, a seriousness and sense of formality that had never been there before- not when it came to you. There’s a coldness to him that frightens you, but you do your best not to show it. Something is wrong, you know this, your superstitions had warned you so, but until you find out what it is you will do your best to act as if everything is fine. You offer him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, and Zuko doesn’t meet your gaze.

You watch with bated breath as he reaches out and tugs your collar down to reveal the betrothal necklace around your neck.

“Why are you still wearing this?”

“I was in a rush and forgot to take it off,” you explain quickly. Zuko stares at you for only a moment before quickly emitting a heat from his palm so great it melts the carved stone of your necklace right off. The choker that held the stone falls limply from your neck and onto the snow below you. You’re bewildered by such a harsh action from the boy who had always treated you with the utmost care and respect. A part of you wanted to turn around and run back home to your mother, but you knew there had to be a reason for Zuko’s sudden change, and so you stay.

“Let’s go,” Zuko says gruffly, taking your bag from your shoulders in one hand and holding your hand in the other as he guides you up the ramp and onto the ship.

He stands beside you with an arm around your waist as the ship pulls away from the docks and out into the open sea. Your home grows smaller and smaller until you’re no longer able to see it, and then it is just you and Zuko together in silence.

“You’re going to be happy with me,” he says quietly, but the statement does nothing to ease your nerves. “It’s late, you need your rest. I’ll escort you to your quarters.”

You say nothing as he guides you to the ship’s deck below, only glancing once at the moon before you before the night sky is replaced with a steel roof over your head.

~~~

Zuko doesn’t tell you much about the Agni Kai; you’ve learned it’s best not to bring it up. But from the vague answers he’s given you along with the tiny details his Uncle has let slip out, you find out that Zuko had not won the challenge and was now an outsider of sorts to the Fire Nation. But that shouldn’t matter now considering you both had wanted to run away, right?

You have separate quarters on the ship, but you always find yourself winding up in Zuko’s bed. Homesickness hits you more often than you had presumed, and Zuko is the only warmth you find in your new life abroad. You hope that will change once you settle down in Ba Sing Se. The thought always bring a sense of comfort to you- the idea of starting over, settling in a new home, eventually getting married, and having children are images that keep you sane on the moving metal death trap.

When you wake you find that the spot beside you in bed is empty and cold, proof that Zuko has been gone for a long while now. With a sigh you force yourself up and ready yourself for the day ahead. If your calculations aren’t off and if you read the map correctly, you should be arriving in the east end of Earth Kingdom some time today.

However, when you ascend onto the top deck you find that you are nowhere near Earth Kingdom territory at all. The air is still frigid from the cold, and you’re regretting not bringing a coat up with you to wear.

It is Iroh who notices your trembling form first, immediately sitting you down at his tea table and calling for one of the crew members nearby to fetch you a blanket.

“Zuko, the poor Princess is freezing,” Iroh states whilst pouring you a nice, warm cup of tea. “Please forgive my nephew for his lack of hospitality.“

You only give the General a weak smile in response as you quietly sip your tea. A warm blanket wraps itself around your shoulders accompanied by a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Why is it so cold?” You frown, glancing up at Zuko who stands before you. “I thought we’d be near the Earth Kingdom by now.”

Iroh guilty looks away from the two of you and quietly excuses himself in order to give you privacy. Zuko is silent for a long while.

“We’re not going to the Earth Kingdom,” he replies bluntly.

“But what about Ba Sing Se?”

“I have to tie up a few loose ends before we can settle down together. But don’t be sad, Princess. I’m sure you’ll like where we’re going instead.”

It’s then that you truly notice your surroundings, the familiar gray skies and calm ocean waters, the frigid temperatures. You’re going back home.

“The South Pole? But that can’t be!” You exclaim. “I just ran away and now you’re taking me back?”

“We’re not going there for you,” Zuko responds harshly. “They have something that I want.”

“I don’t understand...” you frown, rising from your seat at the table to meet Zuko’s fiery gaze.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he mutters, brushing past you in order to stand along the railing of the ship.

“Zuko, if we go back there’s a chance my people will try to take me away from you. They’ll blame you for my disappearance, returning would be nothing but trouble. What could the South Pole possibly have to make you go back?!”

You love Zuko with all of your heart, you really do. But if you had known the severity of the situation you’d find yourself in once you decided to run away with him, you would have listened to the voice at the back of your head that begged you not to go. But now, as the banished prince turns back to meet your eyes, you realize that it’s much too late.

“Your people are hiding the Avatar.”

| tags: @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @multi-fandomstan @eridanuswave @royahllty @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @kittenthekat1234567890 @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @coldlilheart |

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Party Night - Sarah Reese x Reader - Chicago Med/One Chicago

Request: Request (feel free to combine this with others if you feel it fits) but Reese picks the reader up like fireman carry and the reader is squealing and squirming like "Sarah! Put me down! Your noodle arms are gonna drop me!" While Sarah is just laughing her head off

A grimace crossed the girl’s face as she stepped into the party atmosphere, giving Ava and Nat forced smiles as she passed them, only her goal on her mind.

Finding you in the crowd of Connor’s party.

April waved as Sarah walked by her, raising an eyebrow as she watched Sarah reject the offering from Connor of a drink, instead asking him something that had him pointing out past where a lot of Firehouse 51 were partying.

“Connor, what’s wrong with Sarah?” April called out over the music, grabbing Connor’s attention as he raised his voice over the tunes too.

“She’s trying to find Y/n!”

April nodded, watching as Will all but whisked Connor away. whilst Sarah headed towards the area Connor pointed out, trying to spot you through the bright dancing lights that lit up the darkness.

Sarah knew what you were wearing from the Instagram photo you’d posted. Fishnets and glowsticks included. She wasn’t going to tell you how red her face got at your post, ever. Glancing around the room there was no sign of you where Connor had said he’d last seen you.

“Hey, Sarah!” Noah waved her over, any attempts for her to dance with him failing as Sarah cut to the chase.

“Have you seen Y/n?”

“Y/n? Really? Um, I think they were outside by the pool getting some fresh air.” Noah explained, pointing towards the back doors that lead to said pool, the music quietening down slightly, but not much.

Sarah nodded, heading outside as she spotted Sylvie, Kim, and Hailey by the hot tub.

“Sarah? Hey, Sarah! We didn’t know you were coming; Y/n was whining about…” Kim covered Sylvie’s lips as she realised Sylvie on bubblegum vodka meant she was rather loose lipped.

“Have you seen Y/n? Feels like I’ve been searching this entire place for them.” Sarah let out a sigh, walking over to the three women.

“They went to request a song, then said they were going to get another drink, since they didn’t think you would come tonight.” Nat explained, smiling slightly as a song began to play over the speakers.

“Pretty sure that’s the song Y/n requested, so they’ve probably gone back to the bar… or kitchen, since this is a glorified house party for Connor’s birthday.” Nat elaborated as Sarah turned her head to listen to the lyrics in more detail.

🎵 “Lights are off, music is on, minds are unlocked, this feeling is amazing…” 🎵

Sarah cleared her throat, recalling the rest of the lyrics as her ears burned a fiery red.

“I’m going to go… find them…” Sarah stammered over her words, tongue twisting as she wondered why you had chosen that song, of all the songs you could have picked.

///

The lyrics were on repeat in Sarah’s mind as she walked through the house, heading towards where Kim had told her the kitchen was.

There you were.

Sat at the counter, sipping from a red solo cup. Glowsticks around your wrists, contrasting your fishnets nicely, along with the choker around your neck.

“I finally found you!” Sarah called out over the music, smiling widely as you turned to her.

“You’re here- whoah!” You yelped, slipping slightly before Sarah caught you, her arms around your waist as your hands went to her shoulders, the two of you staring at each other as the song continued to play.

🎵 “This feeling is amazing, hands on your waist, liquor is all we taste, your freckles lead the way, I trace the constellations, I trace the constellations…” 🎵

“How much have you had to drink?” Sarah asked over the music, her eyes flickering to the red solo cup that was previously yours and how you had stumbled slightly.

“That was Fanta. Last time I had anything alcoholic was two hours ago…” You explained, dumping out the cup in the sink as your other hand remained on Sarah’s shoulder, Sarah’s hands still on your hips as a mischievous smirk creeped onto her face.

“What are you smirking about- oh my god!” You yelled as Sarah picked you up, heading outside to where she had last seen Kim, Sylvie, and Nat.

“Sarah! Put me down! Your noodle arms are going to drop me! No, no, please not the pool!” You squealed, squirming slightly as you spotted the pool’s glow in the corner of your eye.

“I’m not dropping you in the pool, silly!” Sarah laughed, plopping you down on the empty sunbed as Kim, Sylvie and Nat laughed at the sight of the two of you.

“Surprised you didn’t carry them home.” Kim teased, knowing about your crush on the psychiatry resident as you pouted.

“You scared me.”

“I wouldn’t drop you in the pool, Y/n. It would ruin your outfit.” Sarah cooed, removing an eyelash from your cheek without a second thought, whilst your face went warm under Sarah’s touch.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight.” You quietly admitted when Kim, Sylvie and Nat had left to go get more drinks.

“You were here. I saw your Instagram post. I came for you.” Sarah explained, her pinky finger brushing yours as the two of you sat on the sunbed, talking like nobody else was around.

“Do you want to go watch a movie at my place? It’s a lot quieter than this…” You asked, your nose crinkling up as you glanced around the chaos.

“That sounds nice, but do you think Connor will mind?”

“This party wasn’t even Connor’s idea; it was Will’s idea of a surprise party.” You elaborated, standing up and taking Sarah’s hand.

“Ava was my ride here, I’ll text her and say I’m leaving with you… you drove here, right?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s over here.” Sarah pointed out her car, the two of you walking over to it as Sarah entered in your address to the GPS.

Your soft smile was hidden in the darkness as Sarah focussed on driving in the dark to your place, whilst you watched her with your bottom lip between your teeth.

///

Ava: you left with Sarah? I require details!

Y/n: we watched a movie then both fell asleep on the couch?

Ava: wow, Y/n, just wow

Y/n: what? What am I missing here?

Ava rolled her eyes as she left you on read.

“Completely oblivious…”

[gingerest-ale]

YOUR PUNK AU ART has me on the floor. Absolutely spectacular!!!!! If you want to elaborate on your artistic choices I for one would LOVE to hear it <3

THANK UUUU!!!!!!!! also again i want to give credit to thee lovely castielsweedgarden (tumblr won’t let me tag them) for the original concept, the original post is here and their tag for alt!natural posts is here all their content is SO DAMN GOOD please check it out

OK ARTISTIC CHOICES. So for some background I’m a costume designer so I actually spent a lot of time doing research for these outfits and also I pay way to much attention to detail so get ready for an infodump because im a nerd.

DEAN

ok so my headcanon for the jacket (and if u read the og post this will make more sense hgafkgsjk) is that Dean stole it from John the night he and Sam ran away and he starts to modify it and make it his own and put patches on it that would piss off John and thats why he keeps wearing it because he took this thing his dad loved and made it his own and that is the ultimate “fuck you” to John.

Dean keeps his hair in a really short crew cut because i really enjoy Dean teasing Sam about their hair being long

Sam and Dean dye their hair in motel bathrooms and Dean changes colour every other month meanwhile Sam just dyes their hair black because “i dont want to damage my hair with bleach Dean”

I had a lot of fun with the patches and most are pretty self explanatory BUT i want to draw attention to: 

the handprint patch on Dean’s shoulder right above where the actual handprint is

the patch that says “i love my non binary child” is the first patch that goes on the jacket because Dean wants to support Sam and it is thee ultimate patch that would piss John off

The bee patch was a gift from Cas <3

Deans shirt is ripped from hunting but he likes the aesthetic of it 

The chain around his neck is silver or iron or some other useful ghosthunting metal

also the tattoo on Dean’s hand is inspired by this one fic its so good please read it

Dean wears a bunch of jewelry and you can’t see it but he also has a bunch of tattoos

SAM

Sam wears platform boots and it makes them like 7 feet tall but its ok its what they deserve

I said this in the tags but ill say it again: Sam got the spiked choker because they were tired of getting strangled by monsters all the time and honestly i think a lot of canon!Sam’s problems could be solved if he just wore a spiked choker

Anytime Dean teases Sam about their fashion choices Sam always tells him thats its for practical reasons. The rosary? Its for making holy water in a pinch. The ripped fishnets? they’ll just get ripped anyways. The platform boots? its too intimidate monsters. The spiked choker? Its self defence Dean come on, it’s a purely tactical decision, no aesthetic reason at all.

Sam modified the sweater themself. Spent the long hours in the car embroidering an exorcism onto a cropped sweater (it didn’t use to be cropped, but a werewolf clawed into the bottom part of it and well. here we are) in pink thread and sewing some black lace onto the hem.

why yes, Sam’s skirt does have a blood splatter on it!! you would think this would get Sam some suspicious looks, but their aesthetic is so Like That that people assume its just painted on in an attempt to be edgy. People who assume this are wrong.

Sam likes wearing revealing clothing because it lets other people see how insanely strong and muscled they are and alt!Sam loves being absolutely intimidating to people.

Like. Imagine. This seven foot tall giant shows up, wearing all black and spikes and you can see their insanely muscular thighs under the fishnets and oh god why do they have so many scars you Do Not Want To Mess With Them.

to be clear I think alt!Sam is just as much a sweetheart as canon!Sam is but they dont try to make themself look smaller

CAS

The shirt Cas is wearing says “BOB the man, the myth, the legend” and it is very much based on a shirt my lovely gf has.

The reason cas is dressed Like That is because he woke Jimmy up in the middle of the night and the tshirt and sweatpants and the socks are Jimmy’s pyjamas and of course he had to grab his coat and put on his crocs shoes before leaving the house to get possessed by an angel, he’s a sensible man!!!

ok so i need to talk about the crocs because some people seem unhappy about them. Castiel does not care about human fashion standards. He does not care about how he is perceived by others. Crocs are sturdy, comfortable, practical shoes to him and thats all that matters, why are you laughing Dean? They’re waterproof!

I honestly don’t know why i drew Cas with hoop earrings it just felt right but my current headcanon is because he say Beyoncé wearing some or something.

ok trench coat doodles time!!!!! there are many of them and i wont go into all of them but here are a few noteworthy ones

the one on the top right is based off a lil doodle one of writers did for a fan I think??? I can’t remember someone please link the post ;;

dean just doodles lil bees and hearts all over the place because they make Cas happy

theres a badly drawn Leviathan on there. in case you were wondering what that is

so many games of tic tac toe were played on the trench coat. Sam always takes the circles. Sam always wins.

the big heart on the bottom right contains a doodle of the poodle Dean found hot on that one terrible episode. I’m not sorry. 

I did draw an airplane with gun arms. it’s an inside joke i have with my gf. No i will not elaborate. I think that Dean drew that on there because he thought the idea was funny.

bottom left corner has cool sun wearing sunglasses because we are all kindergarteners 

the SW and DW drawn on the coat are because they put their initials on the places they call home. 

Thank u for your ask my apologies for writing ten million words about it please enjoy

[shelbsmlynn]

worst firsts with brittany furlan

a small blurb from my fic ‘rocket queen’ where talulah guest stars on her stepmom’s podcast.

we also get talulah’s backstory in this lil blurb/ drabble.

⚠️content warning ⚠️ : mentions of abuse, r*pe, and infant loss

talulah sat in her favorite spinny chair, as her stepmom said “ hi everyone, welcome back to worst firsts and today we have my stepdaughter, little miss talulah tallahassee lee. how are ya, lil’ human?”

talulah said “hi! i’m great, i’m extremely comfy, and i’ve finally found my favorite stuffed animal from my childhood, so that’s fun.”

brittany smiled,and said “you’re like a boudoir model, right?”

talulah smiled and said “not really, i’m actually a tattoo artist, but i love being a lil’ slut sometimes. i spend my dad’s money at the lingerié store,and it honestly pisses him off sometimes, like i’ll be chillin’ on the kitchen floor smoking a cigarette and he’ll be looking at his credit card bills and he’ll be like lulah, why is there a charge for $2,000.00 from hustler on my card? like what the fuck are you buying from the fuckin’ panty store?!?!?”

brittany said “ those conversations can go from 5 minutes to like 4 hours, and it’s insane, anyway you’re dating the guitar god himself, aren’t you?”

talulah nodded “yeah, slash is super sweet, and he treats me like a little princess,like he’ll open my car door for me, and brush my hair for me,and he loves washing my hair for me. so i’m absolutely obsessed with squishmallows, and every time he comes over, he’ll bring me a different squishmallow,”

brittany smirked,and said “how would you describe sex with slash in one word?”

talulah sighed “ one word, girl, you can’t do that shit to me,cuz there’s too many words to describe it, but the first one that comes to mind would be rough. and i don’t mean like boring vanilla shit, i mean like bdsm rough, like we can drop a couple racks at a sex shop,easily. here’s an ego boost for ya,daddy. slash puts christian grey to shame, but unlike mr.grey, slash actually uses safe words, and gives amazing aftercare.”

brittany gave talulah a weird look and said “damn girl, you’re fuckin’ freaky. also, where did that cuban link choker come from, cus i need it . it’s super cute.”

talulah ran her fingers over the cuban link collar around her neck, and said “ it’s my day collar. the clasp in the back is actually a padlock. i’m very fond of the way cuban link looks, and i have a lot of link jewelry, so it matches, and looks inconspicuous.”

brittany said “okay, i know it’s been awhile, but i still cannot get over the dress you wore for the dirt premier. please elaborate on that, that dres was fuckin’ beautiful.”

talulah smiled and said “oh, my god. that dress was beautiful, nikki actually helped me pick it out,and for those of y’all that don’t know, it was a bright red dress with splits in the sides, clean up to my hips, and i had heads turning like crazy. i was with machine gun kelly at the time, and when he saw me, his fuckin’ jaw dropped so far, i thought that thing was gon’ fall off his head. my dad literally picked colson’s jaw up, and closed his mouth for him. all of my tattoos were visible, which apparently made dudes go crazy.

i remember pete davidson going ‘sweet jesus, that thing makes you look like a motherfuckin’ goddess’ when he saw me.

i’m pretty sad that the dress wound up in pieces on the floor of a 5 star hotel room later that night, because i loved that thing. and no, i’m not gonna tell you who i fucked that night. y’all can just guess who it was.”

brittany smiled and said “you and your brothers grew up complete opposite right?”

talulah nodded and said “ oh yeah, my brothers stayed attached to pam at the hip, and they still do, if they’re given the chance. meanwhile i grew up sticking to tommy like glue, and that’s because of the emotional and physical abuse i went through from pam and one of her abusive boyfriends from ages 13 to 14. the abuse finally stopped one day when pam dropped me and my brothers off with dad, and my nose was all bloody and both my eyes were blacked. dad was livid when he saw me. next thing i know, pam’s signing her rights away, and tommy had full custody of me, but not my brothers. which led us to grow up way different.”

brittany gave talulah a loving smile and said “ it’s amazing to see you overcome your trauma and become such an amazing woman. you’ve got an amazing job, and you’re just exploring life and doing things that make you happy,and i’m so fuckin’ proud of you for that.”

talulah sighed as she pulled a pack of red marlboro 72’s and a pack of matches out of her pocket and said “ i ain’t overcome shit, britty. hell, pam’s boyfriend at the time r*ped me, and got me pregnant. long story short, my daughter died in my arms,because she had a huge hole in her heart.”

tears welled up in talulah’s mismatched colored eyes, as she pulled a cigarette out of the pack, and put it to her lips “ her name was badlee dianne lee. she woulda been a lil’ spitfire,between me as her mother and the terror twins as her grandfather and godfather, she woulda been fuckin’ wild, spoiled rotten, too.”

a few tears fell from talulah’s eyes as she struck the match in her right hand and lit her cigarette. she often thought about badlee, but it had been over 11 years since she held her daughter.

“i got to hold her for a minute,then when the doctor came to get her to run their tests and procedures, they picked her up, and she was dead. i sobbed for a good six hours after that. i couldn’t even plan her funeral by myself. i wound up falling into a depression after her funeral, and bonded with uncle vince a lot more.”

brittany gave talulah a sad look, and said “i’m sorry to end this podcast on a sad note, but we’re out of time.”

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“You’re not going out in that outfit.” ( Mark/Fenton Ps!au protecc. )

- ✩ { @gamblealife } ✩

{ ☆ }  Fenton normally doesn’t wear clothes like this when not filming, not that he has anything against the style. In fact, one would say that it suits the small duck rather well... It’s just not what he’d personally choose, usually preferring comfortable shirts when not needing to be in more formal situations, and even then he’d only put on a nice tie. Nothing overly flashy or provocative, just a nerdy garment suffices. Unfortunately for him, his clothes were caught in the passionate aftermath of a recording session, soiled and torn beyond repair. Not the first time something like that had happened, but definitely the first time when his spare clothes had been inconveniently left at home... Forcing the small duck to wear the only thing he could find available.

Draped in a virgin killer sweater, pale yellow fabric hugging his body and allowing plush feathers to spill out, creating a tawny heart deep in the shaped-keyhole, Fenton peeks his head out the hall and glances around. Face bathed in warmth and plumage fluffing with embarrassment at being adorned in this while outside of the recording room, he swallows thickly and starts hurrying down the hallway, headfeathers still in disarray that is very well known amongst his co-workers and afterglow still clinging to his cheeks. Biting his bottom lip, gaze nervously darts around to see if anyone else had been saddled with a late night assignment, but the building seems clear.

Tugging at the cute lavender choker snugly tied around his neck— he had difficulties unclasping it from the back —he swallows thickly before closing his eyes and releasing a deep breath, shoulders hunching as he rounds a corner— and promptly bumps into Mark. Frantically apologizing at the mistake, eyes wide and feathers ruffled, gaze roams over the parrot to ensure that he is alright, only faintly noticing the question about why he is here so late at night and where he is going.  ❝  O-Oh, I was scheduled for a last minute session... My partner already left a while ago, so now I’m heading home.  ❞  

However, studying halts at the following statement, eyes snapping up to Mark’s face at the stern tone. Quizzical at the blatant firmness in the others demeanor, Fenton supposes that he can understand Mark’s concern. It is pitch black outside and everyone is aware that he has to walk home. A diminutive and adorable duck, dressed in such a manner and still bathed in the scent of sex, would likely be quite the target for whatever... unsavory skulkers may be lurking in the city. Especially with the area they happen to be in. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t surprising to see such protectiveness from the other male. True, he knew they were friends... and Mark has been nothing but kind and generous towards him... but there’s something intense in the way the taller male regards him. Something that makes his feathers fluff further, cheeks dusting with heat for FAR more than what this place normally brings.

Still, he figures that he should attempt to put Mark’s worries to rest.

Fingers tapping against one another, brows knit with unease as he admits with a wince,  ❝  Well, I uh... I don’t exactly have a choice.  ❞  Gaze sheepishly averting, hands clasp behind his back, unwittingly displaying the heart cut out on his ensemble’s chest, soft feathers fluffing with every delicate breath,  ❝  My personal clothes were ruined and this was all I could attain... It’s either this or I partake in the trek home entirely nude.  ❞  He adds with a weak chuckle, attempting to jokingly downplay his embarrassment,  ❝  Well, aside from this—  ❞  A finger tugs at the choker once more, gaze peeking at Mark,  ❝  —since I’m having some difficulties removing it.  ❞  Of course, he could always ask-

❝  Unless- Heh, would you mind undressing me?  ❞  Fenton asks, unwittingly coy as big, hazel hues innocently look up at Mark... before it abruptly hits him to elaborate—  ❝  Th-The accessory, I mean!  ❞  Hands frantically wave in front of himself, eyes wide and face scarlet with shame, chest heaving with quickened breaths as his heart POUNDS against it, the frazzled duck looking much like he tends to do before things become... interesting in his videos. Frankly, with the fumbled scenario, flattering clothes, and pair of ‘actors’, if one didn’t know any better, they may assume this was the start of one.

Fenton’s dialogue certainly doesn’t help matters. { ☆ }

[hecohansen31]

Hello love, I’d love to request a roommate AU with Alfred, with the promts 30, 28 and 3 and also the kissing prompt 33. Thank you soooo much!!! 💕❤️🥰

WARNINGS: Unrequited Love, Mention of The Friendzone, Ugly Taste in Men, Lightly judgy! Alfred and overbearing mom! Judith, also... cheesy...

An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

“You smell nice”.

Alfred was unable to stop himself from commenting on the distinct smell you were wearing tonight, something sweet almost like vanilla, but with a twinge of fruity which gave almost a sassy note to your body.

And he found himself immediately liking it.

Although you weren’t wearing it for him.

“Thank you, Alfie!” you immediately replied as you stopped at the mirror in the corridor, fixing the small black dress you were wearing, an utter masterpiece of fabric that had the advantage of highlighting your body perfectly.

And making Alfred have all the kind of sinful thoughts.

Which wouldn’t help his constant pining against you.

It had all started when you had presented yourself for the room he was wanted to rent in his apartment, since his brother Aethelred had moved away to live with his girlfriend.

You were a college student and, although Alfred would have preferred a male roommate, he had been just too captured by your cheery and sweet personality to deny you a chance to the room, and on the long run, he had been glad you had accepted.

Although there were moments, like these days, when he hated the thought that you saw him as only your roommate.

“… I hope Ken will too” you added, softly as you checked your perfectly red lips, a color that had ben linked to sin back when Alfred was in seminary, but now he just loved the way it’d heighten the shap of your lips, and he had hazy dreams about messing it up.

“You are going out with that idiot, again?”.

He tried to keep his nose out of your romantic life, both for his peace of mind and yours, but eventually you’d just jump in a pretty dress and elaborated make-up, and he’d know that some dick would sweep you off your feet just to leave you cold in time of need.

And Alfred would be there for you.

But you never saw him as much more than a friend.

It wasn’t your fault.

It was Alfred who had always been to shy to propose anything.

And he couldn’t blame you for not noticing him.

“He said he didn’t mean to stand me up” you mumbled softly with a voice that seemed almost childish, as you gently brushed a few hair away from your face, checking the entire ensemble “… he just forgot a very important thing!”.

“Of course” he huffed with annoyance.

If it ever came to him, he’d make you his priority.

“… oh, c’mon Alfie, don’t be so mean!” you complained loudly, turning to him “… you need to go out more!”.

“I am fine” he replied immediately, as he lightly gestured to his guitar laying in the middle of your sitting room “… I’ll just compose a few symphonies…”.

“I can’t believe you, sometimes” you commented lightly, as you turned to him with a devious smirk and his eyes finding focus on the small choker on your neck, bringing attention to it “…  maybe I can ask Ken if he has a girl to set you up with!”.

“Please don’t” because he didn’t want any girl that wasn’t you.

He had tried.

His mother had tried to get him with a nice church girl, but he’d for ever see your face over their bodies and when they talked it just scared him as a monstrous creature.

“Hey! It is a good idea” you replied softly, coming closer to him “… me and Kent and you and a nice girl!”,

And you gently pushed your hand onto his arms, in a way that made him tremble under you.

He just wanted it not to be a simple touch between friends.

He wanted to gently grab your hand and bring you closer to be able to smell properly that wonderful perfume, as he tasted the softness of your body.

“That sounds lovely” he muttered through gritted teeth “…now don’t hang in with your loser friend, you have a dinner to attend to”.

“Oh Alfie!” you hugged him tight, effectively stealing his breath away “… don’t miss me too much, and get in bed at a reasonable time, old man!”.

You, then, moved to grab your coat and your bag, eventually exiting as Alfred huffed an annoyed breath, messing up his long hair as he put them up in a lazy bun, before he got the guitar to try to soothe his heart in the most Taylor Swift way.

And he was halfway through the bridge of a new song when you came home, strangely early.

But he didn’t dare to comment anything, till you turned to him, your eyes lightly glossy and your cheeks reddened, in what would have been a portrait…

… hadn’t it meant that you had been crying.

“Hey, is ever…?” he tried to ask, but before he could, you moved closer to him and your expensive perfume mixed with cheap whiskey.

“I couldn’t…” you blurted out, blabbering over the words as you opened and closed your mouth in search of the proper word and Alfred couldn’t help but lightly cradle you closer “… I didn’t go to that date…”.

“Why didn’t you go?” asked softly Alfred, trying his best not to make you feel guilty, but it didn’t seem to work, since you raised your head from his shoulder, where it was rightfully resting to send him a daring look, the one that meant that you’d thought ‘he was smarter’ “… why have you been going out with these assholes that don’t know how to treat you?”.

He expected you to tell him to ‘fuck off’.

He had misspoken, since as ugly as your taste in man was, he didn’t have a say in it.

He wasn’t your boyfriend.

But, although you distanced yourself, you did actually reply to Alfred, with a hurt look:

“… to get over you”.

And the words didn’t register fully in Alfred’s brain till a few minutes passed…

… and your crying got worse.

“… I always had this crush on you…” your drunk mind didn’t think clearly in the slightest “… but you were too nice with me, and… and… fuck I’ll want to kick my ass tomorrow morning for telling you… I had this crush on you, but you… you never saw it”.

He couldn’t help but look at you with bewildered and open eyes as you tried to shield yourself from his beautiful light gaze.

He had been pining onto you, desperately, and you had done the same.

And he slowly couldn’t help but connect a few dots.

The way your face would brighten up as he’d accept your proposal to cuddle ‘platonically’, the light way you’d bite your lips whenever he’d appear in any way undressed or disheveled from his usual appearance…

… and finally, the way you’d grimace whenever you’d hear that Judith had tried to set him up with another daughter of her friends.

You had always liked him more than a roommate or a friend.

He had been the one put himself in the fucking friend-zone.

“… and I just thought you weren’t interested in me” a light sigh left your mouth, as you sniffled loudly and almost mechanically Alfred went in the kitchen to retrieve a tissue for you “…so I though I’d get over you, but.. everyone is not as interesting or tal… talented as you, and I…”.

You blabbered a bit more as your discourse became less and less coherent and Alfred couldn’t help but notice the way you lightly wavered on your legs.

He softly moved to support you, leading you to the bathroom, to gently collect yourself, as you stood in a painful awkward silence.

Although your drunken words were sincere, Alfred didn’t know what to do.

He had been waiting all his life for something like this to happen, but right when he got it…

… he didn’t know what to do.

And the you blurted out:

“I’ll move out on Monday” and his eyes were again watching you with surprise as his mind tried to understand what was happening “… I passed the line… I broke our boundaries, and I can’t… I can’t live here, anymore”.

“No no, (Y/N)!” he pleaded with you softly, because although he understood your point, he couldn’t let you go now that he knew.

But you didn’t.

“You’ll just find somebody who isn’t a mess” you tried to reply, as he gently brought away from your face a few strands of hair, as you both sat down onto the pavement “… and I really hope you’ll find somebody who makes your heart… makes your heart… beats… like mine, when I see you”.

You seemed out of breath as you moved to softly raise your eyes to meet his for a few minutes, before ducking down embarrassed, but he then moved to softly raise your chin lightly.

“I don’t need to look for it, when I have it right here” he replied, knowing that if he didn’t tell you now, he wouldn’t have had a chance anymore “… if I kissed you right now, what would you do?”.

You seemed taken aback and shook lightly your head, not fully understanding his words, as they resonated deaf in your mind.

And Alfred passed to the gestures, kissing you on your lips.

He did it tenderly not to scare you and in order to let you back up from it as soon as you wanted, but you just stood there, surprised, before you softly melted in the kiss, allowing it to become lightly more provocative, as you messily slipped your tongue in his mouth when he opened it, for the surprise of you answering back the kiss.

And he couldn’t help but allow you, all putty in his arms, which had come around his neck.

You were the first one to separate and for a moment Alfred was scared that you’d reject him.

It’d break his heart.

But you separated just to smile a bit clumsily and dreamily at him, before you aimed to kiss him again, missing his lips and accidentally kissing his chin, marked with the pretty red of your lipstick, as he giggled softly, gently pushing you away and helping you up.

“Let’s get you to bed” he mumbled softly as you tried another kiss attack.

He definitely liked this side of you.

“… or we could do something more” you winked lightly, as if you hadn’t been crying a few minutes prior.

He blushed, but he was a gentleman and shook his head.

“If tomorrow morning you can remember about tonight, we can do absolutely something more…” although he kept on blushing as he said it “… but for now, just rest calmly, my love”.

[hyungwons-overbite]

2019.06.21.changkyun

I.M the Devil AU vibes

Your back was aching as your eyes slowly opened and you took in your surroundings. Everything was dark; black asphalt flooring consumed by black walls that seemed to be oozing a sticky black substance. You sat up slowly, propping yourself up with your hands on the floor behind you. You rubbed your eyes as they got adjusted to the dim orange lighting that was spilling in from the outline of the massive Victorian style double doors ahead of you.

 How the hell did you get here? And where the hell is “here?” A pounding in your head increased as you scoured your brain for your last memories. You faintly recalled sitting with your sister somewhere… in her room? Maybe in a car? You looked around the room one last time hoping maybe she was here with you in this sea of nothingness and confusion, but no luck. You were alone.

 Pulling yourself to your feet, you realized the dull ache in your back and head was evenly distributed throughout your entire body. Why were you in so much pain? You walked slowly towards the doors and you swore you felt the temperature rise dramatically. You reached out to place the palm of your hand on the mahogany and it was definitely several degrees warmer on the other side. Despite your logic telling you to do anything but walk through this door, a familiar pull in your chest took hold of your actions and your hands were suddenly pushing it open, flooding your body with the heat and light of colossal flames.

 As you passed through the doorway, it opened into a seemingly endless pathway, charred by the fires framing either side of you. Although you were surrounded by flames, you felt an icy and insatiable emptiness deep inside of you that caused shivers to run down your spine. Looking back over your shoulder, you definitely did not want to stay in the sticky dark room, so your only choice was to put one foot in front of the other and figure out where this path would lead you.

 You hadn’t been walking long when you noticed another being crouched in the distance right in the center of the path. He was wearing a black leather jumpsuit with a wide open collar, exposing a pale chest adorned with several silver chains. Fiery tufts of orange hair fell over his forehead into his icy blue eyes. The lower half of his face was covered in a black leather mask caging back two rows of sharp fangs.

 As you neared this strangely intimidating creature that you weren’t even sure was human, he stood slowly and spoke, “State your name and your business with the king.”

 The king? Was this guy serious?! You contemplated your answer before replying in a tone that exposed your confusion, “I – I don’t know, I’m really not even sure how I got here. What do you mean by ‘the king?’ And who are you?”

 The creature snarled and even behind the mask you could see those rows of fangs that ignited a fear inside of you that was stronger than you’d ever felt.

 Suddenly a deep and unfamiliar voice manifested from somewhere within the flames, “Back down, Jooheon. Easy, boy.”

 The flames behind Jooheon began to subside and you saw where the voice was coming from. An ornate throne that seemed to be made of reconstructed human remains came into view as the flames disappeared from the center of the path. The foundation was an intricate design of skeletal bones upholstered with leathery skin and decorated with a flamboyant pattern of human skulls. A guard stood on either side of the elaborately morbid display. One was about six feet tall with a lanky build, while the other was short and muscular, both dressed in leather jumpsuits and chains similar to Jooheon’s and just as wickedly statuesque. They stood peering down at you condescendingly, each with an eyebrow raised giving off the vibe that they would tear the flesh from your bones in the blink of an eye.

 But the voice hadn’t come from either of these unsightly characters, no. The voice was deep and sultry and resonated somewhere far inside your rib cage. It spoke again as a fourth dark creature manifested straight out of the flames, this one even more morbidly beautiful than the others. He was shorter, with ashy brown hair and a piercing through his left eyebrow. The sharp angles of his face were accented by the shadows being cast from the flames that seemed to dance around his façade. His jumpsuit was cinched at the waist and a deep V neck revealed a black choker accenting his graceful collarbone.

 Taken aback by his devilishly handsome appearance, you were almost breathless, yet you managed to squeak out a meek question, “Where am I? Who… who are you?”

 His response was deep and sudden laughter.

 “You really don’t know, darling?” Each time his voice passed through you, a broken emptiness tingled through every fiber of your being. You couldn’t quite locate the exact feeling, and you’d never before felt these vast levels of addicting depression. Your silence was answer enough for him because he continued. “Why, sweetheart, you’re dead. Welcome to hell. I.M the Devil, at your service.” He fell into a graceful bow as an official welcome to the underworld, but you could barely wrap your head around the news he had just delivered.

 You’re dead.

Dead.

You are dead.

 You kept replaying his words in your head as it all came back to you. You had been sitting in a car with your sister. It was raining and the two of you were on your way home. The two of you were laughing and being a little too reckless when you lost control. The sights and sounds of the crash flooded the visions of your memory and your head throbbed again. The cry of the tires on the pavement, the smash of the shattering glass, the terrified screams of your sister, the squish and crunch of your body being crushed at 100 mph, and then silence. Dead on impact. That’s how you ended up here. You. Are. Dead.

 I.M watched you struggle with this realization and began to make his way down the stairs to take you in from a closer view. You couldn’t help but notice the way his charcoal colored locks moved as gracefully as the flames around you with each step. You locked eyes and saw that his deep black pupils had a fiery glow hidden deep within them. You bit your lip unable to move as he extended a hand towards you. Despite seemingly being made of hellfire, his touch left an icy burn across your skin. He slowly grazed his fingertips across your cheek, finally finding their resting place on your lips. Without breaking the hypnotic stare into your soul he let out a breathy, “Leave us” and the three minions dissipated into the flames.

 The moment the other three were gone you realized you had been holding your breath for he past few moments. Breathing in again, your head was swimming and your knees buckled. This man – the Devil – had an immediate hold on you and you were rendered absolutely powerless.

 “What happens now?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

 He leaned in so close that you could feel his breath upon your ear. “I’m the King of Hell, baby. Hold on tight because you’re in for one hell of a ride.”

[strwberrytae]

Partialism [M]

✦ characters: vampire!jimin x reader ✦ summary: a form of fetishism in which the sexual stimulus is a part of the body; for instance, the neck. ✦ genre/words: blood kink, vampirism, body worship, pure smut | 4.2k

Winter nights were either the worst thing or the best. It was always hard to decide whether there was a love for the feeling of cold, crisp air against one’s cheek or a hatred for the burning sensation. Either way, the cold could always be survived by the warmth of a thick coat, scarf, hat and gloves; consistently thankful for their coverage.

The sound of your high heeled booties click-clacked against the concrete street as you walked towards your destination. Your legs burned as they were the only thing not covered by anything as you decided to wear a dress for tonight’s event. It has only been a month since you started dating this new man in your life and he has already invited you to a dinner party at his home. When he gave you the address, it seemed vaguely familiar.

Hating yourself for telling the taxi driver to stop three blocks back, you started cursing under your breath as a gust of wind hit you harshly. Fortunately, you decided to wear your hair in a top-bun tonight, so you didn’t have to worry about your hair flying all over the place - although the fly aways were another issue. As you turned one last corner, you saw the stream of cars leading up to an elegant brick mansion.

The house was so beautiful but the estate it rested on was perfectly manicured and groomed. Your jaw dropped at the sight.

He lives here, you asked yourself in thought. You could tell that he had a little money when you first met him. Often times he wore designer clothes; always well styled and groom. But this was a completely different animal. This home had been in your town for centuries. Only the finest of the finest lived here and yet here you were. There were so many horror stories associated with the home. Some of the stories were elegant and romantic, poetic even.

Shakily, your legs guided you up the long driveway and to the double doors that led to the warmth that you found yourself craving. It wasn’t the warmth that consumed you majorly but anxiety of what lied inside. When the doors opened, your eyes widened at the sight.

So many senses were being activated because of so many elements; low tempo, modern music, glasses clinking together, casual laughter, heels hitting the floor, subtle chatter, the smell of seduction and promise in the air. This place that you’ve never been to before has somehow morphed itself into a world that you could feel it doesn’t indulge in often. The walls were lined with contemporary paintings yet the decor was modern in dark woods and vintage couture. It was outdated in a way but upkept to match the posh styles of today.

The only thing that caught you off guard was the apparent theme of the party; a masquerade ball. Although every man was dressed in a tailored suit and every woman in some skin revealing, elaborate dress, each person had an elaborately decorated mask upon their eyes. You wondered why your boyfriend didn’t tell you about such an important detail. The mask you had, but the dress was not as intricate. Suddenly, catching you from your daze, a young man in a suit appeared in front of you.

“May I take your coat, ma’am?” The young man’s voice was polite and courteous. His hair was dark, his skin fair, and his smile was dazzling; unexpectedly very attractive. Not to say that a butler can’t be attractive but the man looked like a model; it was alluring. In a sheepish way, you removed your black trenchcoat and dark blue scarf to hand it to him. With a kind smile, you handed it over and bowed your head slightly.

“Thank you. How will I find it later,” you asked out of curiosity. Since it wasn’t a club or bar, it didn’t seem like there would be a coat check. The man smiled warmly and bowed back to you respectfully.

“Young Master will make sure you find your belongings if you leave this evening. Have a good night, ma’am.” Without being able to say another word, the man walked away with your purse and belongings. There you stood in your black a-line dress; a sweetheart neckline that sculpted your breasts perfectly and elongated your neck - flawless. Shock was apparent in your eyes.

“....if? Wha….” But before you could get out your question, the man had disappeared into the crowd with your belongings. You stood there completely dumbfounded, trying to shake off his comment. Maybe you misheard or he didn’t mean anything by it. All you knew was that you would feel a little better if you found him.

The moment you concentrated on finding your more-so mysterious boyfriend, the louder things seemed to become. The music seemed louder. The room seemed more crowded. In spite of this, the atmosphere became colder somehow. Goosebumps formed on your skin with each body you passed. Although covered in masks, the eyes around the room seemed to be focused on you as you walked by. It was hypnotizing in a way. The puzzling factor of the matter was that you were hidden by your own black and gold mask as well, so why were they looking at you?

What was the most captivating element was the music. The slow drum accompanied with a bass crescendo towards an orchestra of other instruments. A mix of guitar, cello, violin, piano, and other unknown instruments that should be chaotic but it was eerily hypnotic. Suddenly the music seemed to fade slightly without anyone else noticing. An itch tickled your neck but you assumed it was the velvety black choker you were wearing. Then, he appeared.

Styled blonde hair, dressed in a fitted black suit with gold embroidery laced on his jacket, chiseled cheeks and for a split moment, his eyes seemed to be shimmering. The only one here without a mask. He looked stunning. In comparison, you couldn’t help but to feel self-conscious about your attire. Perhaps it was a little underdressed, you thought. He never specified what you should wear; only that it was a formal occasion with a mask and emphasized that you’ll look beautiful in anything. As if he knew exactly what you were thinking, he flashed you a perfect smile. He advanced towards you stealthily, sending chills down your spine. When he reached you, he gently put his cold fingers on your arm and leaned in to whisper into your ear.

“You look breathtaking. Don’t be so nervous.” His voice was smooth as silk; deep and raspy. You could hear him clearly over the music. Biting your bottom lip, you exhaled with a shaky breath.

“Is it that obvious? You never told me it was this type of party. Not to mention that you live...here. It’s a little intimidating.” Your boyfriend lifted your mask from your eyes with ease, staring into your eyes as if you were the most beautiful sight in the world.

“Sweetheart, the only intimidating person here is you.” Lifting your chin delicately with his finger, he pressed his soft lips against yours. A kiss so tender, it instantly made you moan as your body flooded with warmth. Every fear you felt in this room disappeared in his embrace. He pulled only a breath away, finding yourself wanting to follow his lips. Something shifted in his eyes - a golden brown glimmer as opposed to his normal dark brown but perhaps it was the chandelier lights that caught his eyes.

“This choker of yours just might get you in trouble. All I can think about is going this -” Before you could ask, his lips skimmed across your jawline and down to your neck. Nuzzling painfully slow along the lining, smelling your soft natural scent. Remembering that he was sensitive to perfume, you didn’t wear any tonight. He told you on your first date that he loved the way you smell without it. You couldn’t explain why but the compliment made you blush more than anything else.

A soft gasp purred from your lips as you closed your eyes. An uncontrollable response as his tongue drew a line across the necklace. Your arms relaxed, draping down your sides. Feeling as if you were going to faint from the sensation but his arm wrapped around your back to hold you in place. It almost sounded as if he was growling as he tasted your skin.

“So sweet and so incredibly smooth. You’re pure perfection, Y/N,” he pulled himself back and smirked, “Dance with me. I want everyone to see you. See who you belong to.” Such a possessive tone yet playful, but there wasn’t anything that he could say that you wouldn’t agree to. The man pulled you to the center of the ballroom floor and without asking, the crowd slightly parted ways.

There you two were, in the center of everything. Dozens of eyes looming upon you without even doing so. They were engulfed in their own partners yet curious glances given your way in subtle ways. It was unnerving but once again, he sensed what you were thinking. He held you as close to his firm body as physically possible. His head pressed against the side of yours as you swayed side to side to the music.

“They’re not here. It’s just you and me.” His words were slow and echoed in your head. A familiar chill rushed over your body, making you close your eyes as his voice took over your thoughts. Once they were open, the others no longer mattered.

“Good girl,” he whispered. His praise gave you a different rush. All the blood in your body seemed to center to the warmest part of your body. Arousal built with intensity inside of you, dampening the little fabric you were wearing underneath your dress. His hand that held yours as you danced led you to drape it over his shoulder. His hand snaked up your curves to the nape of your neck, grabbing a hold of your jaw to angle your head to the side. His nose grazed your skin before his lips connected to the sensitive spot at the curve of your neck.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, beckoning him to continue. The strangest sensation came over you - the desperate need for him to bite you. Not the typical bite but something that would leave a mark. A bite that would show anyone who saw that you belonged to him and only him. Digging your nails into your arms, you let out a soft moan as he playfully nibbled your skin.

“Be careful what you wish for. You might get exactly what you want,” he whispered against your neck. His voice sounded more and more like a ghostly melody; intoxicating with every word. The question circled in your head how he always knew what you were thinking but the thought was always silenced by his next moves or words. Your mind and body submitting to him easier than you ever could before.

“I...want you to. I don’t know why but I need this,” you said with innocent desperation. His low chuckle vibrated into your neck. Instead of giving you want you wanted, he slowly kissed and sucked every spot that made your heart race. He could feel your adrenaline coursing through your veins as it pulsed against his lips. His nose twitched as his eyes began to sting. Dark veins forming from the base of his eyes to his prominent cheekbones. His senses heightened and all he could hear was the sound of your pulse and the sweet scent of what he craved the most.

“Do you trust me,” he asked in a sharper voice; filled with eagerness yet smooth to the core.

“Y-Yes,” you replied as best as your weakened voice would allow. The moment you gave your answer, he yanked away your choker and tossed it to the floor. His warm tongue ran up and down the side of your neck.

“Then beg. Beg for it. I need to hear it.” The command almost sounded as if he was begging as well. He may have been but you didn’t care. You needed this more than you needed anything else.

“Please Jimin. B-Bite me. Mark me as your own. I’m yours and no one else’s.” There was no denying the deep growl that bellowed in his chest. Without hesitation, Jimin’s surprisingly sharp teeth sunk into your neck. The contact pierced and burned at first but eased into a sensation unlike any other. He sucked the nectar your neck gave him; taking his time and savouring the taste. His tongue swirled around the two small holes as his mouth swallowed the red liquid.

Your body was on fire. Nipples pressing against your dressed as you ached to be touched. It felt as if you were numb yet feeling everything all at once. You felt weaker yet stronger. There wasn’t a single care in the world that there were other people in the room yet they paid no attention to you. Holding him tighter as your body begged for more. Reluctantly, he pulled away. Blood dripping from his lips, mirroring the drops remaining on your neck. The sight of his golden eyes didn’t scare you but intrigued you.

“Are you,” you asked in wonderment without being able to finish the question. Jimin licked his lips clean and grabbed your hand with a coy grin. His eyes returning to normal.

“Come with me,” he purred. All you could do was nod. As you passed through the crowd, you noticed that you two weren’t the only ones in a trance. Couples throughout the floor or seated, all tasting each other, drunk in each other. The sounds of moans and hissing as they performed the same act. In your mind, you thought you should be afraid but a bigger part of you was turned on by the scene.

It wasn’t long before you reached a large room; not knowing how you got there so quickly. In fact, you hadn’t even noticed that Jimin was lowering you so your feet would touch the ground as he carried you bridal style. Your head was spinning. The room was dark even as it was lit with candles. The air was cool, matching the blue and silvery gold accents throughout the room. Elegant furniture decorated the room but the center was the large bed that awaited you.

As if it was calling your name, you walked towards the tempting furniture. When you turned around, Jimin was right behind you. His jacket was removed, leaving him in his silky black shirt and pants. You cocked your head as you saw a small drop of your blood in the corner of his mouth. Lifting your finger, you grazed the liquid. Pulling the finger to your parted lips and sucked the foreign taste on your tongue. Jimin’s eyes widened at the sight.

In a quick swift motion, he lifted you to wrap your legs around his taut waist. Crashing his lips against yours as he led you to the bed. Your back fell against the fluffy dark blue bedspread, bouncing as his weight lifted off of you. He looked down at you with hunger and desire in his eyes. As if it was made of paper, Jimin grabbed a hold of the collar lining of your dress and ripped the fabric off of you; with strength you had never seen before but no longer surprised. He pulled his shirt apart as buttons cluttered the floor. His chest lean and fit in every way. He was absolutely perfect in every sense of the word - a dream.

The look of lust in your eyes made him smile with confidence. Licking his lips, you took notice of his sharp canines poking at his bottom plump lip. The sudden urge to feel them sink into you again ran through you. Every move he made was confident and dominant. He knew exactly what he wanted and he wasn’t wasting anytime. His fingers hooked under the waistband of your black silky, cheeky panties and yanked them down with force.

Following suit, you helped him by pulling off your matching push-up bra; revealing your  breasts. You let down your hair as it remained in a bun, letting it fall messily. Laying back against the soft sheets, you raised your arms above your head and squirmed your legs slightly; silently begging to be touched. Jimin bit his lip as he watched your little show. A hint of blood on your neck, naked and a core swollen and wet with arousal; he thought he was going to lose his mind. He pulled down his pants, leaving him bare as his erection strained for attention. His cock was thick, twitching as veins pulsed on the sides. His tip red, leaking with his own arousal. Crawling over top of you, he laid between your legs; looking deep into your eyes.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? It’s taken every strength in my body not to do this sooner. I want to devour every inch of you, Y/N.” His confession made you ache. You arched your back. Your core grazing his tip, making him hiss from the contact.

“Devour me then. I’m all yours, Jimin. I want to feel everything…” In your own way, giving him permission to bite you again. You craved it. In more ways than one, you wanted him. You needed him.

“As you wish, sweetheart. I’ll give you anything your heart desires.” His words became quieter and quieter as his lips made way to your neck. His firm hand roamed your curves until they found your breast. His fingers swirling over your perked nipple as his tongue cleaned the sensitive holes on your neck. They were already beginning to heal but he craved more. The taste of you was sweeter than he imagined. Your scent and beauty drew him to you in an instant when he first met you. Now, there was no way he was ever letting you go. He was already so addicted and infatuated with you.

Your legs spread wider as he lowered himself to your breasts. Smelling every inch of your skin until he rested at your mounds. With both hands, he squeezed your breasts together; allowing his tongue to wander from nipple to nipple. His snake-like tongue swirled around each bud, flicking the tips and making you moan for mercy. Such a skill could easily make you reach an orgasm if he kept teasing you like this.

By your surprise, his teeth pierced into your left breast. Blood trickled down your chest. Jimin made sure to capture every drop as his tongue lapped up from your stomach up to the holes he formed. Drinking your sweet nectar in moderation and allowing you to heal from the beautiful pain. Anticipation radiated inside of him as he lowered himself between your legs. Admiring every part of you from your thighs to your glistening core. The sight drove him insane. His cock twitched as he watched your swollen core throb; craving his attention.

“I don’t know how much I can hold back. Every part of you is perfect.” Jimin’s lips skimmed over the inside of your thigh, teasing you in the worst way possible.

“Please don’t hold back. Just...touch me. Please. I feel like I’m going to explode,” you begged. You looked between your legs to watch the blonde smirk as his tongue prepped your leg for his next mark. He gripped your thighs tightly, kneading and massaging them. His tongue unexpectedly slithered from your thigh right to your core; licking a wet stripe up your folds and around your clit.

“Ahhh Jimin,” you moaned loudly; not a care if anyone can hear you. Your hips rolled against his tongue as he kitten licked your clit. His plump lips wrapped around the bud and sucked as his tongue drew circles around your muscle. Your fingers instinctively laced through his soft yellow hair, pulling on the strands to keep his head in place. He moaned against your core as he could feel you quivering below his tongue. His hips subtly grinded against the silky sheet to get any friction he could. So eager to feel your warmth as he could taste something just as sweet as what ran through your veins.

Your orgasm was right on the edge. He could feel your muscle tightening as your breathing staggered and your moans grew louder. Pulling away, he replaced his tongue with the pads of his fingers; rubbing your wet clit in quick movements. Simultaneously, he bit down into your thigh. Your arousal causing the blood to spill onto his tongue with intensity as it pumped faster through your veins. The moment he broke through the skin, your orgasm ignited throughout your body. Your legs shook as he sucked every drop you gave him as his fingers never ceased. You climbed down from your prolonged high; an orgasm so intense, you felt like you were floating.

Jimin found his restraint and pulled away from your wound. Something inside of him left him hungry still - much like a frenzy state of mind. The insatiable man crawled up your convulsing body and lined his tip to your entrance. Looking into your eyes, he could see a fire burning inside of them. A gaze filled with want and need that he reciprocated. His hands slid up your arms and wrapped around your wrists; keeping them in place. His golden brown eyes never leaving yours as he slowly entered you.

In unison, exhaling lust filled moans as his thickness stretched your walls until he filled you to the brim. You balled your hands into fists as you adjusted to his size. Your orgasm making you tighter and more sensitive to the sensation - heightening the pleasure even more. Jimin groaned as you clenched around him. His tongue rolled over his canines that you quickly grew to love.

With just a few slow pumps, he thrusted in and out of you to coat his cock with your arousal and stretch you fully. The feeling of his length massaging your walls became wetter and rhythmic, he lost control and unleashed his darkest desires. A speed you had never experienced before, Jimin thrusted in and out of you with great magnitude. Each thrust into your g-spot better than the last. With all the strength you had left, you wrapped your legs around his waist to get him as deep as possible. His grip on your wrists tightened so, you were sure it would leave a bruise.

His vampiric strength and speed took over as he pounded you over and over. Accessing that perfect pressure point inside of you that sent your body into overdrive.

“Fuck, baby. I can’t...hold back anymore. You feel so fucking good. So tight and wet…” Jimin moaned in between his words. Breathless as his hips smacked against yours. The sweat on your bodies sticking to each other as your arousal dampened the sheets below. The way he rolled his hips gave you the right amount of friction to call out for your second orgasm.

“Don’t stop. I’m...gonna… I’m…g-” You couldn’t even form the words before you came harder than imaginable. Your lungs nearly gave out from screaming as the electricity coursed through your veins. Your walls clenched tightly around his cock, making him groan as his orgasm pulsed through his length. His orgasm squirted inside of you, spilling out of you with each thrust that remained. The feeling was so intense, you bit down on your lip; breaking the skin and tasting blood on your tongue.

Mixed heavy breaths and subsiding whines, the two of you reached a plateau as your bodies calmed down. Once the rush left your body, you felt yourself growing weaker. Jimin looked you over, making sure you were okay. The scent of your blood hit his nose and he leaned forward to gently kiss you. A kiss that was so sweet and tender, it felt like you were dreaming.

“Are you okay,” Jimin asked as he kissed the corners of your mouth before looking at you. There was worry in his eyes but you graced him with a tired smile.

“I’m okay. Just very tired. Is it okay if I close my eyes for a minute before I leave,” you asked sheepishly. You weren’t sure if you were staying the night or not but you honestly didn’t feel like you could make it home without fainting. Your boyfriend gave you a kind smile and brushed your hair.

“Sweetheart, I’m not letting you go anywhere. You need rest. You lost a lot of blood. Let me take care of you.” Sleepily, you nodded your head. Jimin lifted your body gently to rest at the head of the bed. Already, you were half asleep; only partially aware of what was happening. Zoning in and out as Jimin cleaned your wounds and bandaged them with care. The last thing you remember is his perfect naked form lying down beside you, holding you close as you fell asleep. Although it was unclear if when you closed your eyes, if you were going to awake from a dream and fall into one.

[ilikeherropestight]

Intro to choking for the masses

I posted this to a facebook group, where there were mostly vanilla people wondering why in blazes anyone would want to choke anyone during sex. This is me trying to build understanding =====----- Not sure why [johndoe] posted this meme. If this is his kink, would love to hear him elaborate on it. Otherwise I'm seeing comments about how 'it's not for me' and speculation about why this particular kink exists. I'm replying because I think there is genuine curiosity about why anyone would want to choke or be choked. From what I gather, there seems to be 4 main camps: 1) as part of breath control play in general, 2) as a Dominant/submissive tool 3) as a sensation/experience intensifier (usually to wild/ferel/animalistic sex) and 4) as a kink all its own when it comes to blow jobs. Me, I've played around with breath control and D/s, but by no means am I a hard core choker or use it as my 'main dish.' Let me just share my own experiences with it. Just a background. At the time I was exploring, I was still a medical student/residency phase of my life. So yes, I understood all the vital structures in the area, the trachea, the carotid arteries, parasympathetic nerve plexus around the carotid bulb, the jugular veins, etc. From the community I know they had reasonable standards/practices, such as never completely encircle the neck, never use something you can't loosen/undo in an instant, for me I also knew stay away from both carotids at the same time, etc. For me, sometimes, just touching her neck, partially encircling her neck with my bare hand, even without much pressure, yet still being firm and deliberate, while looking at her... that sent a message that she was vulnerable at the time, she was letting herself be vulnerable at the time, yes she was feeling a fear/thrill about giving me so much control at the time, she knew in a very real sense that she has just given me control over her life. Sure, she could have said "no," safeworded, physically brushed my hand out of the way, stood up and walked away, but no. She stayed there, just looking back at me, the energy exchange was crackling between us, she was breathlessly surrendering (and I wasn't even 'choking' her) and we were both savoring the moment. Sometimes, we would play with breath control. For instance, I'd hold her firmly against me, and with one hand I'd cup her mouth firmly, and press the side of my finger against her nostrils so ok, it wasn't hermetically sealed, but she couldn't easily breathe. And she didn't. And after what seemed like a long time (I held my breath too, to help gauge, and was also really focused on how she was, any little motion or squirm indicating we were nearing undue discomfort, etc), I'd let go to a loud gasp as she caught her breath again. She looked at me with those doe eyes of pure trust and submission. And when I told her I was holding my breath, too? She said "Do it again!" (And then immediately apologized saying "it wasn't a command! I swear!" when I started laughing and enjoying her delight). Apparently she felt that deep connection giving me control of her breath, essentially her life, but then when she discovered I was holding my breath as well, she felt even more deeply connected. One time, in the shower, I had her handcuffed with me. I was taking care of her, soapy caresses and such, and when it came to the face, when it came time to rinse, I would say "hold your breath", then with my hand gripping her hair from behind her head I would guide the shower over her face. Again, I was holding my breath as well, timing how long, took her face away from the shower, brushed the water from her face and told her to breathe again. Again, one of those melting moments. During the aftertalk she was describing how much she enjoyed that whole morning. For one gf, we found that there's a part of the lower neck (the suprasternal space) where it's just skin covering trachea (a common place to place a tracheostomy) just below the thyroid, if I placed my fleshy part of the edge of my hand right there, even if I didn't enclose my fingers and thumb around her throat, if I slowly put pressure on that spot until she stopped breathing, in part from tracheal compression, in part from fear/excitement... same effect as I described. Thrill of putting her life literally in my hands, thrill (to me) of having total trust, deep sense of heightened awareness of her condition, deep sense of connection between us. There's a whole breathplay kink - using water, for instance, such as a pool or bath tub, cocooning (another kink) where the sub/bottom is totally encased or otherwise immobilized within a box, big suitcase, buried in sand, etc with a breathing tube. Constrictive clothing making breathing hard, such as with corsets. And part of this may involve choking. Such as weith an oversized gag or one of those pump-up gags which may also 'choke' in a controlled fashion. Then the D/s component is probably obvious. One thing to add: if she wore my collar, no, it wasn't so tight to be form-fitting, I'd never tighten it to where I can't get at least a couple of fingers under the collar comfortably, but sometimes just the act of tugging on the collar helps re-establish or emphasize our roles to each other. And part of why this works is, when I grab the collar by the D-ring, I'm aware of how much pressure I'm placing when I pull, and that constrictive feeling adds to the D/s dynamic. As a sensation intensifier, I've never gone there. I've heard people describe how, just before or during sex, some kind of quick-release ligature around the neck would be used to deliberately compress the carotids and maybe even breathing; the controlled hypoxia to the brain would induce a high that is accentuated by the orgasm. I've read some extreme porn star would routinely favor this type of sex, however, they'd never actually film it, since it is so extreme and fetishists may misconstrue how 'easy' this might be and 'try it out' without the proper training. Me, I don't trust myself to maintain that control and presence if I'm also building up to my own climax, so I've never done this level of play before. As [royboy] points out, there are people who masturbate while asphyxiating themselves, and probably go overboard because, again, in the heat of the moment it's hard to gauge yourself, and the lack of oxygen to the brain doesn't help. When I was doing a rotation through the medical examiner's office, one day we got a case where a guy apparently hung himself; he was kneeling, naked, leaning forward in a loop of belt attached to the closet doorknob. I suspect it was an auto-asphyxiating accident and not a true suicide, but what was my medical student opinion vs the chief ME? And then the blow job. Not just any blow job, one that involves a relatively large penis in relationship to the mouth, or at least good acting about it. Apparently (and this was told to me by a woman) there are women who get turned on by deep throating these penises to the point where they choke and gag, and maybe even vomit a little. It may or may not involve playacting coercion. I don't know, I can't imagine myself enjoying anything if I'm choking or gagging while doing it, but apparently there are whole blogs dedicated to this. I won't yuck on their kink. This by no means a comprehensive review of 'choking.' But I suspect there is some curiosity about it, even if it's not your particular kink.

[notapurpledragon]

(This is a little something that I’ve been working on for a little while. It’s based on this old rp that I did years ago. And while I may not talk to Jayhan anymore, she gave me the perfect inspiration for the best Shredder that I’ve ever rp’d with. Granted,she was the ONLY Shredder that I’ve ever rp’d with but that’s beside the point. Here’s a lil bit of... Homecoming.)

“Your friends of yours are not really your friends at all.”

“What do you mean? Of course they're my friends!”

'Hmm. This might be easier than expected.' Oroku Saki mused as he carefully chose his next words for the defiant young maiden before him. If he did this correctly then she would be his and all of her power would be at his disposal. “Real friends wouldn't keep you locked away, right?”

“I suppose not.”

“And real friends would believe you about your worries, correct?”

“Yes..”

“And they disregarded you in concern for their brother. A brother who went missing, am I correct.”

“Yeah, but he's been found. He's okay.” Angel looked down at her knees and proceeded to hug herself, “He's okay.” Unsure of who she was trying to convince, herself or Mr. Saki.

“But do they want to spend time with you? Make certain that you are alright?”

“No,” The purple-haired girl sighed dejectedly, “They don't.”

“But I do. I am your friend, Angel. I am here for you. I have believed you when it came to your worries and I am here for you if you ever need anything. Unlike those fair weather friends of yours, I will always be here for you.” Oroku Saki took one of her hands out of her self hug and held it almost tenderly in his.

“But what am I going to do? I have nowhere else to go. I've been staying with my friends as you well know and I have no job to even be able to afford an apartment.”

“I may have a solution for you.”

She raised a lone purple eyebrow at him.

“I may have an opening for someone with your abilities.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is a force, a corrupt evil force in this world that has been digging its insidious tentacles into every aspect of our world and I cannot fight it alone. It has unfortunately sunk its roots into those that could have helped me in the fight against it but now are lost to me forever. If you could help me, dear Angel, it would put this old heart at rest.”

She thought for a moment. “Who.. who were those that could have helped you if not for this evil force?”

'Almost there.' He almost smirked openly. “A ninja turtle who went by the name of Leonardo and his brothers.

“I see...” She bit her lower lip in thought as she uncurled herself into a proper sitting position. 'I could have swore that they said that it was the Shredder that had tried to get them on his side. Not Oroku Saki. They must have been wrong somehow. I just... I know that they're good so why didn't they help this man. This makes no sense but maybe if I help him, I could figure out why they refused to help. Maybe.' She sighed softly. It seemed like there was nothing else that she could do. Aside from being homeless and jobless, that is. “Okay. I'll help you.”

He snapped his fingers and a male servant came to his side with a small package in hand. “I am glad that you agreed for I have a gift for you.” Mr. Saki handed the package over to Angel who set it on her lap.

The box was fairly small and wrapped in a fancy purple wrapping paper that was decorated with elaborate silver swoops and swirls and tied off with a black ribbon. She carefully undid the wrapping. It really was too lovely to ruin. Underneath all of the wrapping was a lovely black necklace, almost like a choker in design. There were black swoops and swirls which surrounded a large red gem. She gasped in surprise. “I - I really don't know what to say.”

“I simply thought that since the last necklace I gave you was ruined by the fire that you needed a decent replacement. Would you allow me the courtesy to put it on?”

She nodded blankly, still too much in awe over what was happening to make a coherent sentence. He picked up the necklace and clasped it delicately around her neck. Then it was almost like a shock ran through her, a subtle-but-still-there shock. “What was that?” She whispered as she gently touched the red stone.

“What was what?”

“...Nothing. I must've been imagining things.”

“Go and take a walk. You have my number now. Call me when you need a ride and I'll come for you.”

Angel nodded once before she followed the servant out of the room for some well needed fresh air. She had a LOT to think over.

[cedarmoons]

@4biddenleeches sorry not sorry i did this to ur kids

His fingers are warm on the back of her neck, and his touch lingers. She watches his reflection in the mirror as he leans forward, tilting his head and pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of her throat, fingers curling over the tops of her arms. The heart-shaped emerald dangles over her sternum, catching the light.

It is an hour past dawn; the children are still asleep; they are ready to leave.

“I think you’re worrying too much,” Asra says, smirking against the curve of her shoulder. His eyes are lepidolite purple in the faded light, holding her gaze in the mirror. Ziah makes a face, then opens her jewelry box and puts on three rings of malachite, moonstone, and amethyst. Asra reaches around her, taking hold of the strip of black velvet that serves as a choker, clasping it around her neck as well.

“I am still not certain this is the best idea,” she says, taking an amethyst pendant in hand and turning around. Asra doesn’t move as she drapes it over his head. “We are asking Aredhel and Julian to watch nine children between the ages of ten and nineteen for two weeks. Alone. That is...”

Asra’s smirk is wide and shameless. “I think they’ll do a great job. In fact, I think they’d be insulted by your lack of faith in them.”

Ziah rolls her eyes. He kisses the knuckles of her left hand, the pressure of his mouth mothwing-light, and turns away, picking up their scarves. She winds hers around her shoulders as he does the same. 

“Did you pack an extra pair of your glasses?” she asks.

Asra nods, looking down at his mostly-packed bag and pushing his spectacles back up his nose. “Do you have extra ointment for your hand?”

“Mhm.”

Downstairs, six new heartbeats. Julian’s laughter, Aredhel’s dry response to something Katya had said. Ziah puts her hand on Asra’s back, then reaches out to help him close their bags. “They are here,” she tells him, and downstairs someone knocks.

Asra grins, then kisses her cheek. “Great. I’ll let them in.”

He takes the bags with him, leaving Ziah alone in their new bedroom—now fully unpacked, and cluttered with trinkets and items and reminders of days past, gathered over the years spent together. (Nearly twenty, she thinks, and smiles: nearly twenty years she has had with him, and she would not trade a moment of it for the world.) She had tucked the packing list under the jewelry box, and a list for Aredhel under Muriel’s carving of a wyrm, and a general grocery list tucked between the dresser’s mirror and its elaborately carved frame.

She checks the packing list, makes sure every item has been crossed off, then grabs the lists for Aredhel and leaves the bedroom. The kitchen is down the hall, on the other end of the house: once a leisure room, refashioned into the kitchen to accommodate the shop and study downstairs on the ground floor. It had taken several days to build it all.

Ziah waters some of Lizbet’s plants—the ones that had not been able to fit in her half of the attic, and the ones that she’d deemed hardy enough to not require her care in her room—and leaves the grocery list, along with a bag of coins, on the countertop, making sure to scribble Aredhel and Julian’s name in large lettering at the bottom.

When she goes downstairs, Katya is halfway up them, bouncing on her feet, her familiar close behind her. Katya stumbles to a stop, grinning up at Ziah, then cheerfully says “Morning Ziah!” and lunges forward, wrapping her arms around her middle. Ziah laughs and pats her shoulder.

“Korra isn’t up yet,” she says.

“I know!” Katya says, cheerfully, and continues on her way to the attic.

Dmitri and his familiar have already disappeared into the study, and Asra is speaking with Aredhel and Julian. Asra looks toward the stairs and his words trail off, a small smile curling the corners of his mouth. “There she is,” he says, holding out his hand to her. “Everything good to go?”

Ziah nods, closes the distance between them and takes his hand, squeezing it, before turning to Aredhel and Julian. “Thank you both so much for this,” she says. “I know it is much to ask.”

“It isn’t!” Julian assures her, grinning. He looks healthy, well rested: she is glad to see it. His grin fades, slightly, replaced with more serious reassurance. “We’re glad to do this, honestly. I think you two deserve a little vacation. Aransia is beautiful this time of year.”

“Don’t you worry about the kids,” Aredhel says. “We can handle them.”

“Speaking of,” Ziah says, pulling out her third and final list. She glances at Asra, who smiles, and looks back to Aredhel and Julian. “Some notes for you both. Yosef is allergic to nuts—of any kind. We have vials of potion that counteract the allergy just in case anything happens, there’s one in the kitchen, first overhead counter to the left of the sink, in a blue basket, the cabinet doors are glass so you can’t miss it. There’s another one in Yosef’s room. He knows where both of these are, and so do the other children. 

“Second, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, Evander goes to the palace for tutoring. A carriage will come pick him up and bring him home, so you won’t have to worry about that. Yosef may want to go with him, because he likes the library—and please, if Dmitri would like to go as well, he is more than welcome—but Kylan will definitely go with him to see Portia.”

“See Portia?” Aredhel repeats, brow wrinkling. “Why...?”

“He told us he’s in love with her,” Asra says.

“He’s—what?” Julian sputters, laughing.

“He is eleven, and we’ve already told her of his crush,” Ziah asks. “He doesn’t know that she knows.”

“She thinks it’s cute,” Asra adds. “And you know what, he’s weeded her garden for her several times, when we can’t even get him to make his bed, so I think he’s serious, for now.”

“Anyway,” Ziah says. “Moving on. Kamala and Indira’s birthday was two weeks ago, and Navra and Nasmira gave them instruments as presents, a sitar and a hang drum. Kamala is determined to learn them both. If she’s in a bad mood and blames you for it, she will play one of them in front of your bedroom.” She looks up, eyes widening in horror. “We forgot the extra mattresses.”

“Mizi,” Asra says. “Evander has a bunk bed, and you know Dmitri will be sleeping in the study. They’ll be fine.”

She exhales, hard. “Right.” Upstairs, Korra is arguing with Lizbet, and Katya is laughing. Upstairs, Indira is humming as they brush their teeth. Outside, she can hear the neigh of horses as Nadia’s carriage arrives to pick them up. She looks back to Aredhel. “One last thing—”

“Ziah,” Aredhel says, smiling, “if it’s on the list, we’ll read it. Promise.”

“If the kids say I approved something and it’s not on this list,” Ziah rushes out, “they are lying, don’t believe them. Lizbet is not allowed to paint her room whatever color she wants, no matter if all of them say Asra and I allowed it.”

“United front?” Julian asks, grinning. “Smart.” 

“If there’s an emergency,” Asra says, “Korra and Lizbet know how to message us. We’ll get it if we’re near water. If that fails, find Faust. She’s in the forest, usually around Muriel’s hut. She can let me know if anything happens.”

They both nod. Aredhel smiles. “We’ll be fine,” she insists, and draws Ziah into a hug, one Ziah returns, closing her eyes and enjoying her warmth. When Aredhel pulls away, she says, “And if worst comes to worst, we can always ask Portia or Muriel to help out. You two focus on enjoying yourselves, okay?”

Julian glances out the window and sees Nadia’s carriage roll to a stop. His eye widens. “Darling,” he says, facing Aredhel, “how about you and I go upstairs and say hi to the others, hm?”

Nadia knocks just as Aredhel and Julian disappear upstairs. They are not on bad terms with Nadia—she had pardoned them for their murder of the Count, and publicly thanked them for their assistance with ending the second red plague—but things are... awkward, still.

Asra opens the door, beaming. Nadia steps inside, dressed for travel, her hair in a long braid that drapes over her shoulder. “Good morning,” she tells them both, warmly. The coachman collects their bags and brings them out to the carriage. Nadia closes the door behind him and smiles at them both, her gaze lingering on the emerald Ziah is wearing. “Asra—happy birthday. I trust you received the shipment of books I sent here?”

“Yep,” Asra says. “Dmitri’s already finished one by now, probably.”

“I can hear you,” Dmitri calls from the study. Asra laughs.

“Am I wrong?” he asks, and Dmitri doesn’t reply.

Nadia smiles warmly and, after kissing both Asra and Ziah on the cheek, she goes into the study to speak with Dmitri herself. Asra sighs once she’s gone, intertwining his fingers with Ziah’s. “I am,” he whispers, “so ready for this vacation.”

Ziah laughs. “That’s what happens when we adopt four children under thirteen in two months, Asra.”

Asra’s smile widens. “Worth it, though.”

Upstairs, Korra asks Julian where Ziah is, and Julian tells her the truth—she’s still downstairs, you can catch her if you hurry.

Oh. Oh, that cannot be good.

“MOM! WAIT!” Korra shouts, right on time. Ziah winces. “LIZBET TURNED HONEY GREEN!”

“Nadia,” Asra calls, “that’s our cue, time to go!” He raises his voice. “We’re leaving, Korra, sorry! Talk to Julian or Aredhel!”

Nadia appears almost immediately, and Ziah can hear Korra and Honey both sprinting through the house, Honey’s yowls loud enough and strong enough that she can hear the distress in his voice. Nadia opens the door, laughing, and Asra laughs with her as he gets all three of them out the door.

Ziah sees Honey at the top of the staircase, meowing pitifully—a black tomcat turned lime-green from head to the tip of his fluffy tail. Asra reaches around her and shuts the door just as Honey decides to run down the stairs. Ziah turns around and Asra bursts into laughter, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“You,” she accuses playfully, “are entirely too pleased about this.”

“What’s not to be pleased about?” he teases. “I’m going on vacation with two beautiful women, our kids will be safe and taken care of for two weeks, and Aredhel’s finally repaying all those favors she owes me. This is the best birthday present I could ask for.”

Ziah laughs, shaking her head, and follows Nadia to the carriage. She settles beside Nadia, leaning over and resting her head atop Nadia’s shoulder, closing her eyes when Nadia begins to stroke her hair. Asra sits across from them, and wordlessly Ziah gives him her scarf so he may use both their scarves as a pillow.

“Aredhel and Julian are both admirable parents,” Nadia assures her, as the carriage jolts and moves. “Dmitri and Katya are both darling children. I am certain they can handle anything your children throw their way.”

Asra snorts, then giggles, cheeks dimpling as he laughs so hard he uses Ziah’s scarf to muffle himself. Nadia arches an eyebrow, silent, and he shakes his head. Once he’s calmed a little, he lowers the scarf and grins at them.

“She’s right,” he says, snickering again. His delight in this situation should not amuse Ziah so much, but he is always endearing. She only shakes her head at him, hiding her smile in Nadia’s shoulder. Asra shrugs, grinning. “Hey, you know what? What could go wrong?”

*

Ziah checks up on them once, with a bowl of seawater in her lap. It is dark and warm in Aransa, humid; they have been here for five days. She sits on their rented manse’s balcony, overlooking the sea. The two halves of her heart are fast asleep inside, wrapped around each other. Asra will reach out for her in his sleep soon and realize she is missing, but for now she has enough time to check on the children.

Korra is the one who answers her call, Mango perched on her shoulder, bobbing her head in time with the distant strumming of Kamala’s sitar. 

“Hey Mom!” Korra greets, cheerfully, and Ziah swallows.

“Hello, love. How are things in Vesuvia? Are you all being on your best behavior for Aredhel and Julian?”

“Oh, just—just great,” Korra assures her, her eyes flicking up to something out of Ziah’s view. “Everything’s peachy. Mango-y, if you will. Really.”

“You’re so cute,” Mango says, lifting golden-orange wings with emerald remiges. She bobs her head again. “You’re so cute.”

“Thank you, Mango,” Ziah says, dutifully. Mango flaps her wings. In the background, Lizbet says hey is that Mom?

“Go away Lizbet!” Korra says, nose scrunching. “Mom doesn’t wanna talk to you because she knows you’re a filthy snitch—”

Something crashes in the background. Someone shouts Honey! — Ziah thinks it sounds like Aredhel, but the voice is muffled and cracks mid-syllable, she cannot be certain.

Regardless, the shout makes Korra turn her head, presumably looking down the hall toward wherever Honey had knocked something off the table or shelf. Presumably while maintaining eye contact with whoever was telling him to stop pushing the delicate item in question.

“Uh-oh,” Korra says.

Mango lifts her wings, beak clicking twice before she finally says, very clearly in her odd parrot voice, “Well, fuck.”

Ziah’s mouth drops open. “Korra, did—”

“Lizbet taught her that,” Korra says, quickly. “Love ya Mom gottagobye!”

The bowl of water goes dark, and Ziah is left staring at her own reflection in disbelief. A moment later, it lights up again, and when Ziah touches its surface Lizbet is smiling up at her with a gap-tooth grin, winding a strand of golden hair sheened in blue around her finger. 

“So,” she says, gleefully, “in the five days that you’ve been gone, Korra set Kylan on fire—”

“—it was an accident!” Korra shouts. “Lizbet, shut up!”

Lizbet ignores her and beams up at Ziah, giggling with the kind of delight that only comes at expense of one’s siblings. “Cookie ate a bunch of grass and threw it all up on the study carpet, Aredhel and Julian took us to the park but Katya and Korra wandered off and got lost and we all spent hours looking for them—”

“LIZBET’S SNITCHING!” Korra bellows, out of sight. Her pronouncement is immediately followed by a faint but ringing chorus of disapproval. She cannot hear what the other children are saying, but it makes someone say there will be no killing! which is never good.

“Also Aredhel and Julian lost Dmitri,” Lizbet says, laughing. “But he was in the study the whole time, they checked the entire house like twice! Also I don’t know who thought this was be a good idea but at some point we tied all our sheets together to see if the wisteria really is strong enough to climb down—”

“You did what?” Ziah asks.

“It wasn’t me!” Lizbet protests.

“Yeah it was!” Indira replies. 

“Dinner’s ready!” Julian calls. “Come and get your pasta!”

“One sec!” Lizbet cries. “I’m talking to Mom!” 

Indira’s face appears in the water, half-shoving Lizbet out of the way. “It was her idea to tie Yosef in the sheets, and lower him out the attic window,” they supply, matter-of-factly. Lizbet screeches, and Indira has to shout over her to be heard: “But don’t worry, he’s fine now! Also tell Dama Lizbet’s the one who taught Mango how to swear!”

“She taught Mango how to what?” Asra asks from the doorway. He strides over, leaning over Ziah’s shoulder, staring down at Indira and Lizbet. “Lizbet. You did what?”

Lizbet laughs, a little hysterically. “Dinnertime Dama loveyagottago!”

The water goes dark, and Asra and Ziah are left staring at their own reflections. After a moment, Asra purses his lips and sits beside her on the patio sofa. Ziah listens to his heartbeat, and Nadia’s, and the rush of the waves on the beach below. She takes several moments to process the chaos she has just witnessed and lifts her head, meeting Asra’s gaze in the darkness.

“We should go back,” she says.

“Pfft,” Asra replies. “Nah. They’ve got it under control.”

Ziah blinks at him. “How much of that did you overhear?”

“Just the Mango part.” He reaches out and presses his palm against her back, rubbing in slow circles. She exhales and leans against him, closing her eyes and turning her head, nose nuzzling his throat. Asra kisses the crown of her head. “Again, I’m sure they’ve got everything under control.”

Despite the confidence in his voice, his shameless grin betrays him.

Evander is their eldest, at sixteen—Korra and Lizbet were both fourteen, Indira and Kamala both twelve, Yosef and Kylan both ten. Cookie was the only familiar who behaved: Honey was more interested in destroying things and dropping half-eaten small animals on tables and beds and pillows, and Mango never, ever stopped talking. When you told her to quiet down, she only spoke louder.

And that was not considering Katya and Dmitri and their familiars.

Too late, she realizes the true magnitude of what they have asked of Aredhel and Julian.

“I don’t think they’ll ever offer to babysit our children again,” she says, faintly. “In fact, I don’t think they’ll want anything to do with us ever again.”

Asra laughs for several long moments, smiling against the curve of her shoulder. When his fit of amusement has passed, he kisses her jaw. “I think you’re being a little dramatic, Mizi.” After a moment, he sighs, resting his cheek on her shoulder, arms wrapping around her. “Come back to bed? We miss you.”

Ziah sighs again, then nods, standing up and dumping her bowl of water over the balcony’s guardrail. Nadia stirs when Ziah climbs back into bed, but she settles when Ziah kisses her brow, half-smiling in her sleep.

With Asra and Nadia flanking her, both of them entwined with her—arms and legs and sheets tangled between them—Ziah takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, letting herself focus only on the two halves of her heart, and not Aredhel and Julian, undoubtedly at their wit’s end, half a continent away.

*

They come home later than expected. Nadia’s negotiations with Aransia for investment in and trade treaties with Vesuvia had not fallen through, but they had stalled, and Nadia had not been able to leave until two and a half weeks into their vacation. When Ziah had told Aredhel, Asra by her side, Aredhel had smiled—tightly, thinly, an expression that had not looked like a smile at all and more like a grimace—and told them to enjoy their vacation.

“Also, Asra,” she’d said, “we’re even.”

“Deal,” Asra had agreed.

Which means it has been over three weeks when the carriage finally comes to a stop in front of their new home, the sky painted rosy with predawn light. Asra is still sleeping across from them, but at Nadia’s gentle touch he rouses, blinking and looking bleary-eyed at them both.

“Home?” he whispers. Ziah nods, helping him sit up. She gives him his glasses and he smiles at her before putting them on.

“Thank you for the vacation, Nadia,” she tells her, kissing the inside of her palm and then her wrist. “I had a beautiful time.”

Nadia smiles and draws her into a proper kiss. “Visit me soon,” she says, a playful light dancing in her scarlet eyes. “If the damage control does not take up too much of your time.”

Ziah laughs, and Nadia’s smile widens. Asra kisses her goodbye as well, and then helps Ziah out of the carriage. The coachman retrieves their bags from the top of the carriage, then takes his place at the head of the carriage, snapping the reins. Ziah and Asra stand in front of the house, waving and watching, until Nadia’s carriage is gone and they are left alone in the silence.

Asra turns to her. “How bad do you think it is?” he asks, wrapping an arm around her waist. She shakes her head slightly, leaning down to kiss him, enjoying what little peace they have left.

“We shall find out momentarily,” she says, taking his hand in hers and threading their fingers together. Together, they open the door and step inside.

The house is quiet. Dmitri is curled up on one of the sofas in the study, a blanket pillaged from someone’s closet draped over him. Several books, all of them open and all of them bookmarked, are within an arm’s length of the sofa. He is the only one in the study, so they go upstairs.

Aredhel and Julian are at the kitchen table. Julian’s head is tucked into the crook of one arm, the other arm resting limply across the table, bare, tattooed hand limply holding a mug of what must be coffee. Aredhel is also leaning over, not quite as visibly exhausted as Julian, her hand stroking over his hair and the other resting on the table.

“Wow,” Asra says.

The only movement, from either of them, is Aredhel’s gaze sliding from some vague point at the back of Julian’s head to Asra and Ziah, standing at the top of the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye, Asra is trying very hard to suppress his grin. Ziah gives him a look and he clears his throat, expression smoothing over. But she sees the shine of mischief in his eyes.

Ziah lets go of Asra’s hand and walks forward into the kitchen, gently reaching out and touching Julian’s back. He sighs at the touch but doesn’t move. She moves on to Aredhel, putting one hand on her shoulder. 

“How was the trip?” Aredhel asks, voice polite but strained.

Before Ziah can answer, something pale and off-color catches her eye. She looks up and frowns at splotches of beige yellow that had not been there before.

“Is that...” she starts.

“Pancake batter,” Aredhel supplies, dully. Her voice is hoarse. There are bruises under her eyes from lack of sleep.

“It’s all right,” Ziah says. Asra leaves the kitchen, taking their bags down the hall to drop them off in their bedroom. She hears Cookie’s slobbery breaths as he wakes up and realizes she and Asra are home. The door to Yosef and Kylan’s room squeals open. Cookie trots down the hall, panting, tail wagging, and greets her with a single sniff.

“Okay,” Ziah says, quietly. “You two go home.”

Julian lifts his head. His eyes are red-rimmed, irritated, and he has not shaved in several days. He blinks at her, and Aredhel doesn’t move. Ziah sinks into the chair beside them. “You two go home,” she repeats. Cookie puts his head in her lap, and when she lowers her hand to pet him, he licks at her fingers. “Go home and rest. Eat. Enjoy each other’s company. Katya and Dima can stay with us all day. And then tonight, if you like, you are both more than welcome to come back for dinner. If not, Asra or I will walk them both home.”

Julian and Aredhel stare at her, both too exhausted to speak. 

“You’re the best, Ziah,” Aredhel finally says. Ziah smiles.

“Go,” she gently encourages, standing up and picking up Julian’s coffee mug. It is half-empty, gone cold. She gets Julian’s overcoat and Aredhel’s cloak, and escorts them both to the door. “Dinner will be at sunset,” she tells them. “I understand if you do not come back by then.”

They both nod, and Ziah waits until they are out of sight before shutting the door. She turns around and sees Asra coming down the stairs, his traveling hat still on his head, red scarf still wound about his shoulders. She meets him at the foot of the stairs and takes off his hat, resting it on the knob of the staircase newel.

She drapes her arms over his shoulders, kissing him gently, smiling at the hitch in his breath. Nearly twenty years they have spent together: her world has narrowed down to him, and Nadia, and the seven children they have taken in. Twenty years ago she had not imagined any of this for herself, and now...

She would not trade a moment of it for anything.

“I love you,” she tells him, smiling.

“I love you, too,” he says, kissing her again. When they break apart, he takes her hand and pulls her to the center of the room, taking her once again into his arms.

Asra starts to hum a tune they’d heard at an Aransi celebration—Asra had been the one most eager to dance, drawing Nadia and Ziah in with him in turns, and the tune of this song had stuck with him for the rest of the trip. His hands rest on her waist, curving around to the small of her back, and slowly they start to dance. They sway in place until Asra draws her into a slow kompa, stepping forward and then backwards, their rhythm guided only by his humming.

He grins, cheeks dimpling, and keeps humming, spinning her and then being spun by her in turn. They come together, hips slowly rocking on the beat, and he turns his head to press his nose against her cheek, hands sliding up her back and then back down to her hips. She touches him everywhere, hands running over his shoulders, curving over the back of his neck to feel the soft hairs there, brushing his cheeks. Not once does his humming falter; not once does the music stop.

They dance until Cookie wakes Yosef up, and the whole house realizes they have returned.

[taejinchronicles]

Hi..,i love YOUR BLOG SO MUCH..i want to ask you something and please tell me what do you think of it .After MAMA, vkook shippers claim that v and jk have disappeared during red velvet pf and then came back with hickeys .i'm used to their delusions along time ago but they also have photos and now i'm really confused. Also if you have time , kindly pls explain jk's feelings towards taejin and why he seems to ignore their relationship.

Hey there ‘V’kook worried’ anon,

Tkx for your compliments and love on my blog.

Sure, let’s do this one more time but I don’t know if I can help with your confusion since I myself will never be confused by Taehyung and Junkook’s brotherhood. So for the millionth time: V’KOOK IS NOT A THING. Taehyung and Jungkook are just friends, there is no psychological or behavioural evidence they are more than good and cute childlike brothers. So there is nothing for me to think of it. 

There could be tons of reasons why “V’kook disappeared”. They could have gone to the restroom, they could have gone backstage to speak with their producers, they could have gone retouch their make-up, they could have gone adjust something about their performances or speeches…I mean for the love of god, they are in the same freaking band and they have the same freaking management and they have ya know biological needs like going to the loo or something. And please, everybody in BTS are super close, I mean they live together, there is no need to create a conspiracy theory just cause two members went somewhere together for a few moments. 

As for the so called ‘hickey’ Kookie had a neck rash on several photos on the entire MAMA event, so maybe Jungkook had a rash from stress or bad skin conditions (as seen by the pics, it is most likely a pimple). V was wearing a freaking gorgeous but uncomfortable metal choker and was sweating profusely at the event, I’m sure BTS are like humans who sweat and suffer from the discomfort that comes with the elaborate wardrobe. Basically there are loads of scenarios but, to claim this of that as truth to a vast fandom, is to jump into conclusions.

Oh and if we are going to the hickey and being together territory, here is Jin with a huge red bruise on his chest on the Taehyung gift to Jin video, and are we saying ‘OMG V literally just ate his best boyfriend alive wearing nothing but that expensive custom made Tom Ford jacket’ cause of that love mark and cause of their obvious ‘best boyfriends’ behaviour at that vlive? We could, but we don’t.

Like holy Donkey Kong, there several photographic evidences of Jin with a red hickey on his neck in 2016-17 when they were on tour or after landing from a flight and we are not jumping into assumptions and claiming Taehyung did it just cause ‘Taejin disappeared’ and Taejin sleep together on the same bed. 

Or when V’kook shippers where freaking out cause V had a hickey but he was with Jin at the van and in the airport. Is this a legit proof? Nops, it isn’t.

Taejin came alone on the same car to Jimmy Kimmell and Jin was carrying  their jackets, so should we confirm they made out desperately and shirtless on the back seat of the van? No we cannot.

Taejin are always together on airports and their van acting all cuddly and V is always touching Jin’s face and his lips so can we say we know for sure they are secretly fooling around on airplanes and vans? No we cannot.

Taejin came together on the same car to MAMA with J-Hope and Taehyung was all heart eyes on Jin, so should we make youtube videos saying they were kissing in front of J-Hope who was more than happy to Third Wheel? No we should not.

Taehyung superglued with Jin on the MAMA stage, he was caressing Jin’s back, breathing on his neck and nuzzling him (like he did last year) on their MAMA 2017 acceptance speech so do we claim they were making out backstage? No we do not.

Last year Taejin disappeared for 1 hour at the MAMA’s and nobody was saying ‘OMG they got away to make out in some dark corner’ even after they actually made out on the stage in front of thousands of people and were V was practically on Jin’s lap afterwards. So can we say they were making out secretly? No we can’t.

Based on everything Taejin does in public and on their private lives, are we in a position to say they did this or that when they were alone with zero evidence? Of course we are not, cause that would be making up things and spreading out there as truth. Even when Taejin themselves display PDA I cannot tell for sure what they are doing in their private time. This is where we draw a line between analysing their behaviour to respectfully cherish their relationship and spreading a fiction of our own imagination as the absolute truth. 

My advice to you is filter a little bit the info and use the logical thinking instead of letting every BTS ship proof get to you. It’s just like the V’kook fake fan-made ring thing everyone as freaking out about, a little bit of logical thinking and you realize there is nothing to compare between V’kook’s overly fan-serviced and fan-made push and Taejin’s subtle real life, legit evidences Taehyung and Jin constantly display. 

Just step out a little bit and think about all the legit things Taejin does and nobody pays attention or celebrates and now put everything in perspective in how nonsensical is to jump into conclusions about V and Kookie gone missing for minutes in an event. 

To be honest, this is not a ‘debunking V’kook’ blog since everybody is free to ship and to believe whatever. I love Jin and V’s beautiful relationship and no other ship ‘evidence’ can make me doubt for a second in Taejin especially V’kook who display the most non-ship, brotherly and naive interactions in BTS. So I’m not the one to reassure everyone about every BTS interaction and how for some it means this of that. But please if you appreciate Jin and V’s affection like I do, let’s not freak out every time the V’kook (or any other ship) shippers manufacture a buzz based on imaginative assumptions.  

Maybe I will discuss Kookie’s intense emotional attachment with Jin and how he is affected by Taejin in the future. I’m not sure if I wanna touch this topic since every Kookie relationship talk leads to a ship conflict and I, as a pacifist already have enough with the current useless ship wars.

Lots of love.