#i wonder if i talk/“sound”/come across different across the two languages

[loopscereal]

Pero no lo hicisteee final 100 hrs have been entered

fred by himself cause i did his shoes with everythign and the little meat texture. Why would i do that if its not mesnt to be visible? May god know cause i dont. uhh the background. yeah ok. uh Fred doesn't have to reflect Freddy in clothes or hairstyle anymore! Boys uniform! Higher, tighter pony tail! also their little jacket. Make up around their eyes, and they have gained acess to COLOR. Hes no longer restricted to shades of purple, too bad hes emo and will only branch out to red TOT. anyway yay for them. uhh uhhh also he has a new sparkle. he has a little yellowy orange sparkle in his chest, right on their tie. they didnt have that before :) new sparkle

im glad were all miserable about how fred is on the floor but also agree that freddy looks best when hes at his worse! keep up that look, youre a natural !! bbbbuhhhh

SUELTENME SUELTENME SUELTENME SUELTENME SUELTANME ok normal, hi pia :3 glad you noticed. im so diseased about when they swap colors in canon.... wughgh misery...

not so fast! theyre both so fucking bad at this game! the game being existing. Fred feeds the body and like. the most basic of maintenance but they too mistreat it in their own special way <3. ANyways how does this scene change? uh. god. i feel like it adds a lot ofc content but i dont. know. thinking about camp makes my head scream... as i imagine it mutates and changed even after having drawn these. living organism....

in my head their body "prioritizes" freddy a lot, like. IF fred is in control while freddy is sleeping, and freddy wakes up, it sorta auto-kicks fred out if they arent prepared and get caught off guard, BUT freddy isnt exctly. too present. hes not the most anchored person to his own self so if fred, can simply push him out pretty easy so long as they arent abnormally weakened, and if they were to fight for it fred will typically win. As for body auto responses, i think it does eventually kick the current pilot out, or mess things up and force them both in or both out, ("how does that work" sh sh sh dont even worry about it... <3 please.) buuuut i think it takes a long time for the body to get to that point, to the point where it does those auto responseds. Freddys gotten it pretty used to well, itself. it doesn't send out the signals that it should, or at best, not as strongly.

Okay why is Freddy all glitchy when out side and not sparkly? beeecause well. cromatic aberation occurs when a lense fails to align and focus wavelengths of color all on the same point. What the hell does that have to do with freddy? (what the hell happens int hat goddamn highschool?) uh! hes totally unfocused. in his entire self. and in his worldview, his view of strangers, of his friends, family. exc. Hes got like at least three different "lenses" he can view himself in, and at least two "good or bad" lenses he can see any given person through. IF anything is certain about him, its his instability. In idenity, in stances, in views, in beleifs, in emotions, in everything. An so, he gets the aberation efffect, cause he is !!! pulling!! apart! no focus, no stability , no alignment, no trust, no brother, no one to rely on, no money, no goals, no self esteem, no style, no shoes, no affirmation, no bitchessssssss also i have freddy at like 18 opacity (and the cromatic aberation layers are also at 1* so lets charitibly say hes at 50 total) and Fred is at like 80/85/90 on any given drawing of these, because freddy literally has less soul. uh. magic stystem or whatever freddy was emoty enough in the cup that holds his soul that he could fit a shadow, who turned into a whole ass person instead of some litttle creature...... fucked up. empty ass. anywho. enough of that miserable prick. freds got glow and sparkles cause hes got a lot of soul, hes got a lot in him, and would shine under any circumstance. stand out in some way bc hes just. like that. he is absolutly bursting at the seams with STUFF that is just not being let out. Hes curious. they wanna learn andexplre and live so fucking badly, the want to live and exist on their own terms and its so much passion and drive and will to live all bottled in this little being unable to be expresseddddd. one of these is more positive than the otherrrrr im sure theres sone negative side i missed on fred and a positive side to freddy that i missed but uh. its. 12am as i am writing and scheduling this so.....

if i had a dollar for every time i thought abt fnafhs id have 1 dollar bc i have not fucking stopped.

[superhoeva]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 (𝐨𝐧𝐞)

prisoners!ghoap x civilian!reader x ex-cons!pricegaz | your small sleepy town has never been enough for you. maybe that’s what makes it so easy for inmate soap, his cellmate ghost, ad their friends on the outside to convince you to help sneak them out of prison. (w/c: 1.2k)

warnings include language, dark themes, prisoners!ghoap, unprotected sex (wrap it in real life), bit of an age gap between reader and 141 (late 20s/30s and 40s), bodily fluids (mentioned), soap and ghost work in the tailoring room, improper/taboo relationships (prisoner/worker), cheating, manipulative!ghoap, submissive!f!em!reader, loser boyfriend behaviors (you'll see), illegal activities, violence (mentioned). +18/mdni

full masterlist

The claps are almost loud enough to creep under the crack in the door. Almost… thankfully Soap has perfected the art of fucking you in the back of the sewing room closet. Quick, punchy thrusts at just the right angle to yank an orgasm from the both of you. He pierces himself inside you, and your pussy pulses hard around his thick member that spurts out spells of cum that you’ll hold onto for the rest of the day.

You barely contain the whimpers that want to spill from you.

“Oh, whit I wouldn’t give tae hear those bonny sounds out loud, little miss,” Johnny whisper hot, lips brushing the back of your ear messily. He kisses the spot before pulling out of you with a grunt he has to cover with a cough.

He gives your bare hip one more pat, squeezing the skin for a quick moment before hurrying to raise his pants. You feel a heated gaze on your backside as you bend to pull your panties and pants back into place. A rush of heat rewires you once again, as you can feel the load attempt to seep from your whole. You squeeze with a bitten lip and slight shudder, turning to face Soap but able to meet his eyes. The man puffs his chest in a stretch, smirking at you with a smug rub of his stomach.

You sure are something, aren’t you? Letting him fuck you raw in the place he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life, and you can’t even look that sweet gaze at him. The inmate knows the two of you don’t have much time left but takes a few long seconds to up-and-down you anyways.

Finally, Soap steps forward. Swaying in his stand, his pointer finger coming to lull your gaze to him while the rough pad of his thumb drags just across your chin. He makes sure not to speak until you’re really looking at him.

“See ye out there, huh?”

Soap’s tongue dips from his mouth, wetting his lip with a pretty shine. He has to hold back a chuckle at how slow you nod for him.

“Stay sweet, hen,” he sniffs, and you almost flinch at how fast the cool air returns to you at the removal of his hand. You clear your throat, gathering yourself as you grab your clipboard and  follow him back into the tailoring room.

Ignoring whatever eyes are on you, your legs are still a little shaky when you walk yourself back to your seat at the front of the room. You fail in your attempt to not let your eyes glaze back over to Soap, who’s also just making it back to his assigned chair. He collapses in the seat with a breath, scratching the back of his head.

It’s when your stare floats to the man next to him–a mass of muscles and a hard face that you don’t think you’ve seen crack anything close to a smile–that you pause. You’re stuck in a stupid stare, watching and squirming in your seat when they catch eyes with each other. Their silent conversation is loud. It screams right into your face, and you wonder so hard what they could possibly be talking about that it makes your head hurt.

Is it bad you want it to be you?

~

“Grape or blue raspberry? Or cherry, maybe?”

Soap. An odd name you’ve wondered about since he was placed in your section. And his mohawk. Does he cut it himself? Or get another inmate to do it?

Ghost. A mystery in a half, you’ve found. Never speaks. Looks at you funny… a different kind of funny than Soap but still funny.

“Hey.”

A blink of your stinging eyes brings you right back to the gas station dining room booth. He’s sitting in front of you, forgetting about the different options of flavored ice on the laminated menu before him. The stare he places on you is hard to sit with, and you feel the guilt working its way up your throat in the form of bile.

Rocky’s eyebrows do his speaking for him when they pinch together as he leans toward you.

“Don’t want an icee,” you finally mumble, a little rude. Rocky seems more concerned than offended, nodding with visible hesitation. He stays in his quiet while you slide away the menu to rub at your eyes. “Not that thirsty anymore, actually.”

“Oh. That’s fine.” your fiance blinks, pausing for a moment. “Did… did something happen at work?”

“Something always happens at work, it’s a fucking correctional facility.”

Rocky blinks again, trying not to brisk at the harshness of your voice. Swallowing, he shifts. “You know, I still don’t like you working there. In that place. With all those jerks.”

Jerks. That’s the best he can come up with?

“So you’ve said,” you sass back, wishing it was morning already. Morning means that Rocky’s already out of the house before you’re waking up. Morning means you start a new day of work and get to see the way Inmate Soap’s chest and biceps bulge in his prison uniform. Morning means another chance that Inmate Simon might speak to you. “Can we go home now?”

Rocky throws his head to the side in dissapointment, pouting childishly. “We didn’t even get anything yet.”

“Get it to-go, then,” you instruct him, yanking yourself from the booth to make a b-line to the truck with a dissatisfied shake of your head.

Inmate Soap would treat you better than this. Take you somewhere nicer than a goddamn gas station dining room for your anniversary. And you know what? So would Inmate Ghost. Even if he doesn’t speak…

~

Dinner is the usual. Sloppy but edible.

“Same sad meal,” Soap sighs, dropping his spoon so that it crashes into his tray of half-eaten food. He stares at Ghost through his eyelashes before his face brightens with a smirk. Voice lowering, Soap leans. “Wish I was eatin’ her, instead.”

Ghost has to pause in his chewing of the mushy carrots they were served this evening. It’s a miracle the fork in his hand doesn’t break at how hard he comes to clench it.

“‘M tellin’ you, Si,” Soap shakes his head with a rub of his chin, face hazy. “Pussy’s hotter than th’ sun. Would live inside there, ‘f I could…”

“Stop speakin’,” Simon rumbles out, and Soap shakes with a delighted giggle.

“Jus’ sayin’,” Soap shrugs, gathering his spoon back up to pick at the leftover food. “Bet she’d, ah, let ye have a taste, too. Sweet thing… even got those sad eyes ye like. Which you would notice if you’d speak to the lass–”

“Shut the fuck up, Mactavish.”

Simon’s voice catches the attention of a few surrounding inmates, who know not to question what’s wrong. Not if they want to get their head bashed in by an angry Simon Riley. If they only knew it wasn’t anger coursing through his vein, but a healthy dose of blood running down to his cock that’s making him like this. He resettles in his seat, ignoring the way Johnny’s looking at him, and giving a good palm to readjust his now-leaking cock. Biting his tongue, he can’t help but clench all his muscles at how right Johnny is.

You would taste a hell of a lot better than this sad excuse of a meal.

(next part) - © 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[batsvnte]

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 — You could only stifle a small fit of laughter as you read the text on your screen. In front of you was another one of the small cats that were roaming about this section of the space station. After the hell you went through to get here, it was an temporary safe spot before you had to leave it for the time being. An large room filled with different kinds of creatures that would be lounging around the place, making small talk with one another or sleeping. You lowered the phone to see another cat that was very different from the rest.

This one in particular that you found that was growing an attachment towards you. This time, it’s fur was an a dark grey like a cloudy sky before it turns into rain. The eyes were full of life unlike the other one, and it had an red mark under its right eye. There was also a bit of an constellation on its tail that you were still trying to identity.

The little one stays somewhere in your vicinity. Not to far but not to close. It likes to feel your presence no matter what you were doing, and on some occasions you would always find it waiting outside the door patiently sitting there for you. It was adorable, you would think as it trails after you. Whenever you turn your attention over to check on how it was doing, it always had its eyes on you. Shimmering lightly as those big eyes stared up at you wondering what you were gonna do next. Having ideas of going to the archives to record things that either of you found.

A small flicker of movement caught your attention one day as you were down in the research section. Bringing your attention over to find Sesame (the ‘dead inside’ cat that you showed to March when you were wandering about the space station that she proudly named) peeking around the corner. It was a routine at this point. Sesame would stare you down from across the hallway/room, then it would make its way over to you to practically cling to your side and follow you around.

Hence why you would have to keep a close eye on Sesame and Rice Dumpling whenever they are around each other. You could tell they were trying to be on their best behavior with you around, but you could hear the small bits of bickering between the two of them. It wasn’t all too serious at best. It was small things but you paid attention to what they were saying.

“Move… I wanna sleep there”

“You ate all of the food..”

“There’s three of us.. move over..”

And now here you were standing in front of Sesame who placed itself onto an high counter. There was no change in those eyes of the little critter, but by its body language you could tell that it wanted to be in your arms.

“You have to be nicer to the other critters, especially Rice Dumpling”

It only stares at you. No movement, no sound. Like your words were just background noise for it to listen to mindlessly. You still kept talking, hoping to get Sesame to make sense of what it was doing. After all it was chasing down Rice Dumpling during the middle of an task and almost trapped it in a corner.

To much of your surprise, a critter jumps up to the edge of the counter. Words coming to an complete stop as you looked towards the new critter that lazily stretched it limbs. It was bigger than the rest, even as big as Sesame. Though it’s pure white fluffy fur would make it seem like Sesame was a baby compared to it. A red ribbon that was tied into an little bow was on the near end of its tail.

“Hi there! Where’d you come from?”

You reached out to the critter, which in response presses its head against the palm of your hand. Eager to let you pet it and give it attention. The moment didn’t last as long as either of you hoped. It an few quick seconds, Sesame nudged against the fluffy critter before fully pushing it off the counter.

“Oh my god Sesame!”

Sesame didn’t bother to check on the critter it just pushed off. It only looks to you before now jumping down from the counter and taking its leave as if it didn’t try to commit an voluntary crime.

[d3adlyromb3ar]

‧₊˚‧₊˚ if walls could talk pt 2

— pairing. neighbor!choso x fem!reader

— synopsis. choso is waiting for you to come over as you always did at the end of the day, when he suddenly hears commotion coming from your apartment. choso doesn’t hesitate and runs over, his mind only on the thought that he hopes you’re okay.

— word count. 1.8k

— contents. angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, language, smoking, mentions of injuries to reader, mentions of assault/abuse, mentions of manipulation, choking (not the sexy kind srry), tension 🤤, choso being so incredibly sweet it should be illegal like omg ily

— notes. IM SO HAPPY YOU ALL LIKED THE FIRST PART☺️ as requested by many, here’s part two 💕credit to @\\yume041924 (left artwork) and @\\oss²¹ (right artwork) both on twitter i believe. thank you to @saradika for the dividers 🤍

part one here

You don’t know how long it had been since that very first meeting in the hallway with Choso, but since then— you two had been inseparable.

It started with him making his way out, joining you as you were locked out of your place yet again— it was getting pretty ridiculous this whole thing with your ex— but you found it bringing you one good thing from it. Choso.

Slowly, you had gone from midnight hallway talks, to knocking on his door randomly— wanting to see him. Choso hadn’t minded it one bit, if anything he felt touched that you weren’t just talking to him when things were rough— you wanted to see him regardless.

Your ex seemed to be visiting less and less as time passed, and you had hoped that he was finally coming to his senses— but that wasn’t exactly the case.

Unbeknownst to you, your ex was just as observant as Choso.

It had almost been a full week without your ex’s surprise visits. Key word— almost.

You finished cleaning your last dish, placing it on the drying rack as you dried off your own hands. Wiping some sweat off your brow with your forearm, you made your way to your bedroom— getting ready for a much needed shower.

Meanwhile in the apartment across from yours, Choso was waiting patiently for you to come visit. He had made it a daily habit of waiting for you to knock on his door. He had told you time and time again that you didn’t need to knock, and instead just come in as you were always welcome. You being as respectful as ever, you knocked every time.

Choso snuck a glance from his spot on the couch, to the flowers he had bought, sitting on the kitchen counter.

Maybe that was a bit much? He thought, biting his lip from nervousness.

You had come over many times, baked goods in hand for him. He felt flattered every time, so undeserving of your treats— which by the way were spectacular. Choso had never tasted something so good.

He found himself on a later day walking around some flower shops, taking in all different assortments. All while his mind was on you. He didn’t know where the urge came from to suddenly give you flowers, and he wondered if that was just too cheesy. None the less, he found himself buying some for you eventually. He couldn’t wait to give them to you— despite his anxieties about it.

A loud crash from your apartment broke him from his thoughts, on alert and headed straight to your door.

His hand hovered over your doorknob, his head leaning in to listen inside. He heard yet another argument, this time he heard your voice. Pained and frustrated, but you sounded angry.

Good. You had every right to be. He thought.

“Get the fuck out of here!” You screamed. “Now!”

Choso heard nothing but silence, that was until he heard the dreaded sound of a smack, and the sound of something colliding to the floor.

Without thinking whether it was you or him that was on the receiving end of it, he pushed himself through the door. His body tense and on alert as he glanced throughout the room.

The view of you fallen back on the floor, and the sight of your ex with his hand raised— it had Choso seeing red. He wasted no time and walked into him, pushing him up against the nearest wall. Choso’s hand held his throat, his eyes glaring daggers into this man— he might as well be looking into the eyes of the devil himself.

The man struggled, but Choso’s strength was godly.

“You ever lay your hands on her again, I’ll break your jaw.” Choso threatened, his eyes practically glowing red, “Got that?”

The man gagged and pushed on his arms, desperate for air as Choso kept a tight grip on his neck.

“Fin— yea— whatevr’—” The man struggled to spit out.

Choso released his neck, only to grab his jaw— his fingers pressing a death grip into his skin. He forced the man to look in his eyes.

“You got that?” Choso asked again.

The man shivered under his gaze, fear filling his body at Choso’s intimating aura. He nodded out of fear, and his expression satisfied Choso— for now.

“Now get outta here, and don’t fucking come back.”

Choso threw the guy off of him, watching as the man choked and coughed— gaining back the air he lost, and stumbled out of the apartment. Every so often glancing back to make sure Choso wasn’t following him. How pathetic.

You sat on the ground, eyes wide as you watched the whole thing— a sense of gratitude in your chest. Appreciative that your angel came to your rescue— that’s exactly what he was. Your angel.

You watched as his expression switched in a mere second. The hard, scrutinizing glare morphing into a soft, comforting one. The look specifically for you.

“Hey (Y/n)… you alright?” He squatted down to your form, his hand cupping your jaw gently and tilting it to the side. “Let me see.”

His eyes hardened again, the irritated and red skin on your cheek, finger outlines of where that bastard had hit you. The sight was enough to fuel the fire back up, and Choso wanted to chase the guy down.

He rained clam though, knowing he needed to be here with you.

“I’m so sorry honey,” He spoke gently, “Stay here.”

He got up hurriedly, and started to wet a washcloth with cold water. Meanwhile, you couldn’t focus on anything but the fluttering feeling in your belly— his term of endearment not going unnoticed. Honey.

You felt your cheeks flush, a small smile taking over your lips.

Choso returned, tilting your face again, gently laying the cold washcloth over your cheek. His eyes were hardened, studying your face and focusing on making sure your cheek was okay. It was the type of concerned expression, one that you could tell was anxiety filled.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of his, your own dancing all over his face— admiring his beauty in your apartments low lighting. He truly looked angelic.

“You okay (Y/n)?”

He noticed you had grown uncharacteristically quiet, he assumed you were just shaken up.

You snapped your eyes to the ground in between the two of you, breaking yourself from your moment of staring. You swallowed and thought for a moment.

“I’m okay.” You whispered.

His eyes met yours finally, waiting for yours to meet with his again. Your heart beat a little faster, his gaze so deep— so longing it made you nervous.

A giddy nervous.

“You sure?”

You smiled his way, your eyes sneaking a glance to his parted lips before meeting his gaze again.

“I’m okay now that you’re here.”

His eyes shifted from eye to eye, the genuine look you were giving him intimidating— but he didn’t back down from it.

“Good, I’m glad.” He breathed out.

The two of you just gazed at each other in silence, so many words unspoken. The tension was thick, the way both of your eyes kept dancing to each others lips.

There was no denying that you felt something for Choso. The way he fought for you, protected you, was there for you in moments no one else would bat an eye at. He was a consistent in your life— something you lacked your whole life up until now.

He also was so unbelievably attractive, his aura so dark and mysterious, but underneath it all— he was the softest and most caring soul you’d ever encounter. You felt so undeserving of someone as pure as him— but you greedily wanted him.

The washcloth was slipping from his fingers, the plopping sound of it hitting the floor unnoticed by both of them.

He wanted you, he knows he does. Not only in the way most would think. He wanted to be around you, know every little detail about you, wanted to experience things with you. His life had been so lively, so enjoyable the more he hung around you. You were this light he so craved, and he just adored you to the core.

“(Y/n)…” He breathed out, his eyes locking on your lips as your tongue poked out to wet them, “Can I kiss you?”

Your hands cupped his face then, his little shutter not going unnoticed. Your thumb slid down towards his mouth, your thumb running against his bottom lip— his breath warming the pad of your finger.

His eyes locked with yours again.

“Please.”

As much as he craved you, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours, his hand cradling the back of your head— tilting it slightly to get a better angle.

His lips were soft and warm as they molded against yours. The way it felt like your lips were dancing together. He captured your bottom lip, pressing down with gentle pressure, making you gasp— giving him access to slide his tongue on your bottom lip.

It was intimate in the sense that your breaths were mixing together, your pants in sync with his.

Your hand trailed up the side of his face, soft caresses until you reached his hair— your fingers carding through his thick mane.

He growled at the sensation, your fingernails scraping his scalp heavenly.

He pulled away, in need to catch his breath— as did you. You both panted, staring at each other with hooded eyes— admiring each other. Gazes locked on each others swollen lips and blown out pupils.

“Ya’ alright?” He whispered out, voice unable to speak at a normal volume.

You nodded.

“Yeah.” God, you were great— fucking amazing. The only issue was that you needed another taste.

He smiled at your flushed cheeks, your drunken expression as you stared at him with such intensity. It had his heart pounding, his thumbs moving on their own and smoothing over your cheek.

“Can we do that again?” You breathed.

He chuckled and ran his thumb down over the swell of your bottom lip, forcing your lip into a frown.

“We have a lot of time for that.” He noted, and you blushed at the realization of your neediness. “Let’s head over to my place, okay?”

You were pretty tired from tonight, and knowing you were going to be with him until you fell asleep— you felt at ease.

You nodded sheepishly, wishing your blush would calm.

“C’mere.” He muttered before sliding his arms under your knees and under your back— scooping you effortlessly into his arms.

How perfect it felt to be in his embrace. It felt like nothing could ever harm you here, and you wanted to fall asleep right there.

He made his way through your apartment, to his. You leaned your head against him, tucking your head just below his chin— inhaling his scent as you did so.

Choso smiled down at you, watching your eyes flutter shut. His arms instinctively tightened at the sight, his protective nature taking over. He’d walk through fire for you, do about anything to keep you safe.

If there had ever been a more perfect moment than you in his arms, cuddling into him— he didn’t recall it. This was it for him, this was perfect. You were perfect.

— ending notes. ahhhhhhh the fluff in this one 🥹🥰

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #55

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.2k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

​​“You okay?” Namjoon asks after a few moments of silent walking, your thoughts running wild until they stop and your entire mind is just… blank. 

“Mhm.” 

Namjoon doesn’t look like he wants to pry, probably contemplating between being respectful or caring enough to talk to you some more. Your short attempt of response says the opposite of what he’s asking. 

“Okay…” he mumbles just as you reach the cabin. He holds the door for you and all you can muster in return is a weak attempt to smile in gratitude. Met with a dimpled smile, he motions his head toward bathrooms. “Go, take your time. I’ll wait here.” 

Nodding, you see him sitting on one of the couches you sat just two hours ago, waiting for Yoongi. God, you can’t even bring yourself to wonder how it’s looking at the campfire. 

Are they questioning Jungkook? Are things awkward? Well, the two of you have taken care of that. 

The throb between your legs starts to intensify as soon as you get under the warm water, cheek stinging which makes you hiss. It’s nothing serious, not even the stinging bothers you just as much as the fact that it’s a fucking reminder. 

To be honest, you’re not quite sure how to feel. Are you disappointed? Despite all that, you don’t regret having sex. It eased some of the anger and you both needed that. Even if it wasn’t the smartest decision in terms of your situation. This has just gotten even more serious without any of you wanting it. Talking seemed out of question. You weren’t ready to talk for whatever dumb reason. And then things escalated. So much that you’re in this mess deeper than at the beginning. 

It started with dumb argument over your ridiculous jealousy and escalated so much that you’ve argued with Jungkook again. And then he fucked you in the freaking woods. 

Rubbing your face harshly, you wince at the pain your uncontrollable rubbing causes to your cheek. Washing off any other remains of the sex — the washable ones at least — you get out of the shower and dry yourself. You don’t want to keep Namjoon waiting regardless of his decision and the kindness of accompanying you here. You dry your hair quickly too, shrugging off the fact that you didn’t previously want to get your hair wet. But in your empty slash frustrated state you got under the shower fast and mindlessly, hoping it would clear your mind. 

Once you step out of the bathroom and see Namjoon patiently waiting, the door opens and Taehyung walks in. His eyes find you across the room, long strides coming up to you just as Namjoon notices you and second after he does Taehyung. 

“I got it from here, Joon.” Taehyung says, clasping his hand over Namjoon’s shoulder. “Are you good walking back on your own?” 

“Mm, yeah.” he says, not sounding too sure but he decides to give you and him space. 

You watch him walk away, out of the cabin into the warm summer night as you stare, dumbfounded. “What is this about?” 

Your questioning doesn’t surprise Taehyung, his face clear off any hint of amusement or excitement you’re used to seeing on him. Instead, he remains quite serious which for obvious reasons makes you uneasy. Taehyung can be serious. You’ve witnessed it a handful of times but this time, it feels different. Maybe it’s just because of what happened. 

After all, you’re quite embarrassed how things ended up — especially when there are other people who might not have witnessed everything (thank god) but they’ve witnessed enough for you to feel embarrassed. They clearly know you and Jungkook are not on good terms, they must’ve known shortly after you arrived. But right now they know things are even more intense. Argh! It’s not like you care too much about them, but it’s embarrassing regardless. 

“I just wanna talk. Should we go outside?” 

“Tae,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna talk about that.” 

“We don’t have to talk about that specifically,” he assured you calmly. “About Jungkook, I mean. I just wanna talk.” 

He’s got something to tell you. Sighing once again, your shoulders slumped in defeat. Talking outside does sound better. It’s awfully quiet in this cabin and even though you’re sure the elder man doesn’t care about some stupid drama between two best friends and horny freaks, you do feel comfortable it’s just you and Taehyung talking.

You walk outside and end up following Taehyung to the porch. “You good?” 

“Why’s everyone asking me that?” you exclaim. 

“Damn, sorry for asking,” Taehyung mutters, “You don’t look good, that’s why.” 

“Damn, sorry.” you mutter back, a quiet snicker leaving his mouth as he motions his head for you to follow him. 

Walking down the few stairs, your feet touch the grass and Taehyung leads you around the cabin until you reach a corner. He pulls out something from his pocket, two items actually as you watch lighter being lit up. Brows raised in surprise, you watch Taehyung put a cigarette between his lips as he lights it up. He breathes out a cloud of smoke, away from you. 

“You smoke?” 

It’s no breaking news. You’ve seen once or twice Taehyung lit up a cigarette. But all of those occasions (rare occasions) were when he was wasted. 

“Just a new habit.” he explains, offering you his cigarette as you shake your head with a short nose scrunch. He smiles at that. 

Maybe you could use a cigarette. Would it ease your nerves? You’re not sure. You’re not a smoker. Would it solve your problems? Hell no. 

“I wanted to apologize.” he says after a minute, catching your surprised eyes. 

“You wanted to… apologize?” 

He nods. “Yeah. I shouldn’t have sent you on that walk.” 

Damn he shouldn’t have. You wouldn’t have fucked Jungkook in the woods if he didn’t. But unfortunately, that’s not Taehyung’s fault. 

“I thought you and Kook just needed to talk. I thought you would talk and you would come back fine.” 

Your features soften, staring into the night. 

“I fucked up, Tae.” you say quietly. 

“How?” he questions, puffing out another smoke.

“I just did.” 

He doesn’t push you for further explanation, even though the typical Taehyung probably itches to know more. But deep down you know he’s respectful and can differentiate between serious and too serious. 

“And you meant well.” 

“Huh?” 

You chuckle. “You meant well by sending us to talk. You were right. We were ruining everyone’s time here. We still are.” 

“That’s not what I said though…” 

“Come on,” You give him a pointed look. “Everyone’s already thinking it.” 

“Y/N,” Taehyung sighs, “You’re not ruining anyone’s time here. You and Kook just have your own shit going on. And you seemed to not solve it in any way. You two just need to talk, but now I understand it needs to be at your own pace.”

“We should talk. I just—I can’t explain it. I was just so mad and annoyed that I couldn’t. We are too annoyed at each other to have a decent conversation. I’m scared to talk because I’m scared it’s gonna end up even in a bigger argument.” 

You toss your stuff onto the grass and lean against the wall beside Taehyung. 

“Does that make sense?” 

“I don’t know. I never had to deal with shit like this.” he confesses, grins cracking on your lips for a short moment. 

You wish you could just tell Taehyung everything. To get it off your chest, to explain why you behaved the way you did. What started the argument and overall, just explain the things from your perspective. But then… Do you want to talk about it? You’re genuinely tired. You’re that kind of person who needs to get stuff off your chest as soon as possible. But it doesn’t seem right at the moment. 

“I’m fucking confused,” he mutters suddenly. “I’m confused how all of this even started. Do you not like Ester or something?” 

Here’s Taehyung’s straightforwardness. 

You understand why he’s asking that. 

“No, I do. She’s a nice girl.” 

Taehyung hums, obviously having something on top of his tongue but he keeps his mouth shut. 

“I was just being dumb. I overreacted.” you explain briefly. Which to be honest, gives Taehyung zero explanation whatsoever. 

“I mean… she’s too quiet and shy in my opinion,” You give him a look again with a raised brow. “But,” he continues. “She seems like a nice girl, like you said.” 

“… yeah.” 

“Look, I won’t pry any further. You clearly don’t wanna tell me which is fine. I’m kinda hurt by that but it’s fine,” He tries to joke as you crack a saddened smile. “But I’m here if you wanna talk. Or share whatever is troubling that mind of yours.” 

“Thanks, Tae.” you almost whisper, bottom lip slightly pouting. 

Taehyung notices just as he finishes his cigarette. He tosses it onto the ground, puts it out by stepping on it with his slide. “Come here.” 

And he pulls you to him before you can protest. Cheek pressed against his chest, you hug him back as his warmth and scent envelopes you as well. 

“I’m gonna cry if we hug.” 

“Don’t cry, you’re gonna ruin my shirt.” Taehyung complains, causing you to giggle through your pain. 

“You’re such a menace. And you smell of cigarettes and beer.” you complain into his shirt. That’s not entirely true, he doesn’t smell bad at all. Those smells are mixed with his musky cologne. Taehyung smells fucking amazing. 

“Hey, you little shit. Leave me alone.” he laughs, tightening his hold on you before he slowly lets go. 

As you get back, you make your way to Yoongi's car where you put your things back. Ignoring some of the stares you feel on your back, you get inside the caravan for whatever reason. You need some time alone for a little longer.

You stand there, leaning against the small counter with your arms crossed over a chest, staring into nothing as the door open and click shut shortly after. Who's here again? No time for annoyance of your interruption, your entire posture straightens up and arms uncross at the sight of Jungkook. 

His features are firm for a second as the air inside the caravan suddenly feels too suffocating. 

"What are you doing here?" 

Jungkook doesn't miss the cold words, barely reacts as he lifts something in his hand into the air. "Namjoon was about to bring you this, but I snatched it out of his hands." he confesses, ignoring the way your heart falters at his honesty and at the sight of ointment in his own hand. 

"Why?" you ask simply and dumbly. 

He remains silent, closing the space between you as he comes to stand up in front of you. Without any words, he opens the package and scoots a small amount onto his two fingers. "Namjoon's always prepared," he mutters. You're guessing he's trying to fill up the silence and tension.

You watch him putting the ointment on the counter, arm almost brushing your side as you press your lips tightly. That's until he hesitates for a second, eyes searching your face before he gently turns your face to the side, undoubtedly to check on the scratch. It's no disaster, could've been worse. It stings but it's nothing you couldn't have survived.

"I can do it myself." you point out the obvious, voice cold and emotionless.

"Why are you so stubborn, hm?"

Wish you could give him an answer. One that would make sense. 

Jungkook continues to ignore the glare you give him as soon as his fingers inch toward your face. His eyes stay solely on your cheek. "This might hurt a little. I'll try to be gentle." 

Before you can protest, be the stubborn self that you are, he gently stars applying the product on your scratch. You frown and hiss at the same time, automatically flinching as Jungkook mutters a smooth apology but continues the task. Once he's done, he goes to wipe off his fingers from the ointment while your inner cheek is caged between your teeth. You bite harshly on the flesh, feeling like you're about to vomit any second from the emotions.

"Listen," he starts, but you panic and brush past him just for him to catch your forearm. 

"I gotta go." you stupidly inform him, blinking at him as if you had somewhere to be which is ridiculous – you both know that. 

"This went too far," Jungkook continues regardless of your stupid attempt to leave. "I'm ready to talk if you are."

All you offer him is a nod, too busy getting out of the caravan to hear the sigh leaving his mouth. You get to your previous spot, damp hair framing your face as you reach for a bottle of beer. By the time you came back, they had to open a new package considering you've been drinking out of cans before. 

There's a conversation going on, but you're not that stupid not to notice how Seokjin's voice falters for a moment as they notice you joining them. Looking up after the few gulps, you visibly shrug at them. 

"I'm okay, it's just a scratch. I'm sorry about the drama." you mutter the last sentence, knowing each of them has heard you. 

Across the fire, Taehyung's features twist in silent compassion. 

"It's okay," Seokjin assures you as the rest of them nod and hum in agreement. Jungkook comes out of the caravan, fingers running through his hair making them slightly messy as he plops onto his own spot next to Ester. "We all fight and argue. Don't feel bad. Both of you." 

You and Jungkook nod in return, mirroring each other's actions without any words. 

It's crazy how one stupid argument can change things between people. So much that it not only affects your entire day, but your sleep as well. After yesterday's night ended with everyone too tired to continue to talk and drink. You all have had enough. There's no need to get drunk to get wasted on your first night here. Even though a few reasons could've been found, you know better than that. You were tipsy enough to stumble to your tent along with Yoongi, showing him your middle finger as he kept complaining about having to share a sleeping space with you.

You told him to fuck off and he laughed, falling asleep shortly after. You've kept tossing around, waiting for him to wake up and cuss you out for it but he hasn't. He slept deeply, turned to you with his back as soft snores left his mouth here and there. Luckily not loud enough to disturb your lack of sleep.

When after hours of silence and darkness, your eyes shut on their own and so did your mind. The dreams are more disturbing than ever, not allowing you to have at least a peaceful sleep. You kept having mixed dreams of you and Jungkook arguing along with flashbacks of what happened on that stupid dare. Something random got mixed up there too, overall just weird dreams following you until the morning. 

Namjoon's hike is planned for today. It shouldn't take a whole day, two to three hours max but you still refrain yourself from going.

You're not necessarily avoiding Jungkook, but you're not looking to be in his presence either. Not that you don't want to be. But considering there's still lingering tension between you, you don't want to make things even more out of hand or weird. This is not something worth ruining your friendship with him. And you plan to talk to him. Finding the right time is the tougher part though.

You need to grow a pair of balls to do the next step. It's the least you could do. Jungkook came to you yesterday, told you he's ready to talk. And by doing that, he made the first step of approaching you.

Judging how empty he looks like the next morning tells you enough that it has taken a toll on him as well. None of you want this. But you two are also the only ones who can solve everything. Whenever there were previous arguments happening, you've always managed to talk about it in the end. This time it takes longer because you're both stubborn – and got hurt in the process. At the same time, you remind yourself of realizing every moment how stupid all of this is. Seriously, it's ridiculous. 

"Hey, are you joining us?" Maya asks you, tying her shoelaces before she stands up and faces you. 

"No, I think I should stay here. Think things through." you confess, trying to mirror the smile she gives you. 

She's not blind. She saw that you and Jungkook haven't obviously talked. You appreciate she doesn't ask for any details, which is kind of surprising considering her constant nosiness, but you guess she can tell you don't want to talk about it. 

"You know..." she starts hesitantly, "Jealousy is disease," she starts and laughs lightly, but her voice remains soft indicating she means no harm. "But it's also a human emotion. Don't beat yourself over it. We've talked about this and the only solution is--"

"To talk to him." you finish for her. She nods. "I will. He came up to me yesterday, I'm sure you noticed."

She raises her brow and gives you a guilty smile which gives you an answer.

"He said he's ready to talk."

"And you're not?"

Opening your mouth, you're interrupted by oblivious Hoseok who informs Maya that it's time to go. You usher her to go. "We'll talk later."

She nods, giving you a smile in encouragement as she hops off to Namjoon who smiles down at her, wrapping his arm around her frame as he brings her closer.

Since most of them are going on a hike, people who decided not to go will logically prepare the lunch. You've got no problem with that. You gather all the prepared stuff, walking past Taehyung and Jimin's tent that remains shut. Taehyung is sleeping off the hangover.

You and Yoongi meet at the extinguished fireplace, his morning and puffy face a new sight to you. He gives you a glare when he sees your amused face, scratching the back of his head. Who would've pegged him for a sleepyhead? You're surprised he still decided to wake up and help, considering Taehyung flipped off whoever tried to wake him up.

"How's your cheek?" he asks, surprising you by the question and you don't hide it. He visibly shifts uncomfortably on his spot as your lips curl to a half-smirk. 

"Are you concerned about me, Min Yoongi?" 

"Fuck, no." he disagrees immediately, erupting a laugh from you. "You just look like you've been through hell."

Mental hell, you want to correct him.

"Of course I do. Your snores could wake up a dead person." you tease, laughing at the prominent frown on his face. 

"I don't snore loudly, you liar." he says, determined of his truth.

You shrug, "It was worth a try," He rolls your eyes. You still decide to give him an answer, finding it oddly touching that he asked. "It's fine. Hurts a little but it's nothing bad. I will live."

"What a shame." 

He cackles when you throw a plastic bottle at him. He dodges it with a smirk. 

"Must've been a hard fall to scratch your face," he hums, catching your eyes immediately as your glare warns him. "Didn't know you were that clumsy."

He's testing you. There's no way he knows what happened in those woods. He can only assume. Yet, he's here testing and teasing you. You muster the best neutral expression you can, stopping in your tracks. 

"We were there in complete darkness. It's completely normal to stumble or fall."

Yoongi hums in return, luckily not pressing you with his annoying teasing or whatever that was any further. After a minute of taking stuff in and out of the caravan to prepare food for lunch, you stare at Yoongi. His brows are furrowed, though he looks nothing but focused as you call out his name. 

"I'm sorry."

"Pardon?" he blinks. 

"That you had to experience yesterday... I didn't know my argument with Jungkook would get out of hand."

He stares, dumbfounded. "Why are you apologizing to me ?"

"Because I'm embarrassed by it. I really wanted you to have a good time here."

Yoongi sighs, scratching his temple awkwardly before he tosses the pack of meat onto the table. "I am having... a good time here. I would rather be home and chill on my couch," You raise your brow. "But you don't have to apologize to me because of that. That's between you and him."

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you nod without looking at him as your thoughts come haunt you again. 

"And everyone's been pretty chill about it, as far as I know. I don't know your friends that much, but they seem to be chill."

"But it's still awkward and embarrassing." you confess weakly, rubbing your forehead with a little whine.

"Do you want my advice?"

"No."

Yoongi presses his lips tightly at the quick response, but still continues regardless. "Just talk to each other. I'm pretty sure you will figure it out. That man is ready to fight for you."

"What?"

"Oh, come on." he rolls his eyes. "He's so protective over you. Since the day I met him."

You know that. Jungkook has been your number one protector for the longest time. No one cares about you the way Jungkook does. Sure, Jimin and Taehyung are the best friends you could've asked for. But Jungkook? He has always had a soft spot for you. He's been the number one person you would go to with any problem. He would never judge you.

One bad look from another person and he would be there, ready to fight your own battles. He is like that with any of his friends. That's what makes him special. That's why everyone loves to have him as their friend. Jungkook is precious. 

But even precious people can piss you off, among other things. It's normal and just because you had some kind of dumb argument doesn't change that fact. Just as it shouldn't define your friendship. 

All emotions come crashing down on you. The regret and guilt, even the stupid anger you tried to justify several times. And for what? Because of your stupid jealousy? Your bottom lip wobbles and Yoongi's eyes widen, probably panicking that you could start crying any time. 

"Don't cry or I'm gonna throw up." 

You snicker, laughing through the pain as your lips naturally pout. Yoongi groans.

"You two are idiots. Besides, since when do you care about anyone else's opinion? Huh? I thought you don't give a fuck."

"I don't know, Yoongi... it seems like I care more than I show." you mockingly point out, hating that you just admitted that out loud. But well – he must've noticed that. 

"What do you want me to do? I'm starting to feel uncomfortable." he confesses with a frown on his lips. 

"Damn. A decent person would offer the other person a hug." you remark, ignoring Yoongi's dramatic lapping for a breath. 

"You want me to hug you?" 

You roll your eyes. "Want is a strong word, dude. But hugs can be nice and help. You act like you haven't done more than that."

Yoongi scrunches his nose. "We," he stops, "We don't talk about that night."

"I know what you're trying to say. It was a mistake." you tell him bluntly.

"It was... it was just a dumb decision at that time."

"That's what you would describe a mistake as." you state dumbfounded. 

"Whatever," he mutters. "Don't bring that up ever again."

"You're the one who's acting like a hug would kill you!" you exclaim with a laugh, hearing him scoff. 

"Oh my god. You're so annoying. Come here." he stomps toward you and before you even catch his words, he pulls you closer to him.

Min Yoongi is hugging you. Freaking Min Yoongi has his arm around your shoulders, patting them awkwardly as you bite back a laugh.

"Is it helping?" he mutters, continuing to pat your shoulder at the same pace as you snicker. 

"I feel weird." you inform him and he hums in confirmation. 

You hear nearby footsteps just as you both pull away from the hug, glancing in the direction of the sound. Jungkook stands a few feet from you two, awkwardly glancing around as he mutters; "Don't let me stop you."

He opens his car, rummaging through something inside until he pulls out his camera out of his camera bag. He shuts the door with a thud, sparing you one last glance before walking away and joining the others where a distant laughter can be heard. They're still around. 

Your mouth is open, closing slowly. What were you supposed to do? To try to convince him that it's not what it looks like? Nothing happened. You won't let your mind feed you with stupid scenarios. Yoongi hugged you, just as weird as it sounds, but there's no point in being dramatic. But the whole situation was slightly awkward and the awkwardness lingers even when Jungkook is nowhere in sight.

Considering what you and him bickered about yesterday, you suddenly understand Jungkook's side more. You've brought here a guy you're not exactly friends with. You know Jungkook doesn't like him and the intention of inviting Yoongi to come along is more than clear. Has been from the beginning. After all, you've hooked up with Yoongi. It doesn't matter if you had a proper intercourse or just a part of it. 

You still have something to be upset about. And you are. But seeing it from his perspective makes you understand him more. Not that you make excuses for him. Not at all. You're still mad at what he said back at Taehyung's apartment. He's at fault too. 

You trade your positions, wondering how you would feel if Jungkook invited someone he hooked up with. Purely just to piss you off. Because he hasn't invited poor Ester because of that.

You've fucked up too. You started it.

"See? This is why I don't hug people." Yoongi complains in the back, turning back to his task with a disapproving shake of his head. 

What's so fucking hard on coming to Jungkook and ask him to talk to you? You back off like a coward every time you get the opportunity to do that, whenever he's not surrounded by everyone. That's hard as well. The man seems to be talking to everyone, but no words or looks are exchanged between you. 

Deciding to let it go for a moment, it's better when the right time comes naturally and you won't be stealing glances at him, your legs twitching to move to muster the courage to talk to him. He's Jungkook for fuck sake! 

The only reason why you're so nervous is simple and nothing new. You're scared you talking will only result in more arguing. It's natural and normal for two people with different opinions to argue. Not mentioning all of this is fresh. You can tell by your lingering annoyance and anger. But you should talk as soon as possible. You really don't want to spend the rest of this trip ignoring each other.

You just have to know – no matter what, everything is going to be okay. Even if it doesn't seem like that. 

They've returned from the hike two hours ago, and complimented the food you and Yoongi prepared, since Taehyung woke up in the midst of cooking, refusing to lend a helping hand. 

The constant heat has made all of you fan, deciding to go to the lake again. This time no one really stays behind as everyone wants to freshen up in the water. Even Yoongi which surprises you.

He flashes everyone with his soft skin and toned stomach. Your gazes meet with Maya as she mouths he does have abs to you. You can't help but roll your eyes, laughing at her.

Overall, the atmosphere is loosen up and you find yourself enjoying the moment even with your situation not being sold. You push it back, far away in your mind and focus on your relaxation. That's why you came here, right? 

"Y/N, come here. We need one more person!" Maya calls out to you, in the water with Namjoon and Jungkook. Further away, there are Seokjin and Taehyung swimming laps.

"For what?" you call out to them, the droplets on your skin already dried. 

"Wrestling!"

Oh.

Maya's clutched to Namjoon's back, ushering to come there as your throat goes dry. Jungkook awkwardly stands there, water reaching just around his hips as he avoids your gaze.

"I'm good!" you call to them, shaking your head as Maya frowns.

You don't want things to make it any more awkward but still. Something's holding you back and the thought of being close to Jungkook, even if it's in a completely innocent way, makes you want to stay here. Where it's safe. 

"Come on, it's gonna be fun! Ester can't play because she fears water!"

You know that. You glance at Ester who you've been sitting beside for the past twenty minutes. She shrugs apologetically, enjoying the sun instead as she flips through pages of a magazine that Maya brought. 

Looking at the couple again, not missing Jungkook either, you sigh and stand up. You ignore Maya's triumphal sounds as you make your way there. You have to try to make things better. 

"I'm not sure about this game, though." you mutter, half of your body already in the water as your eyes stay on Maya who gives you an encouraging smile. 

"I'll go easy on you." she teases, causing you to purse your lips. 

"I'm not a fan of water games in general. At least not this kind."

"You're no fun." she continues to tease, Namjoon grins in response. 

"Yeah, because getting pushed into water from someone's shoulders sounds like total fun." you mutter sarcastically.

Jungkook's lips twitch and he rubs his nose instead, trying to appear as if he's not present. Maya gets on Namjoon's shoulders, the two of them in their own loving episode for a moment as they giggle and talk. 

Turning to Jungkook, you clear your throat which makes him look at you. "I won't let you fall." he says, easing down your nerves.

He knows about your opinion of this without you even stating it. That alone makes your heart flutter. "You better not." you joke.

One corner of his lips lifts up in a poor attempt of a smile. The air is awkward but you visibly relax because it's not that bad at all. He turns around and lowers himself. Motioning you to get on his shoulders, you obey and touch his heated and wet skin. Ignoring the hard muscles, Jungkook helps you to lift yourself to his shoulders until you're sitting on him. You hesitate to touch him any further, but once he turns to Namjoon and Maya, you automatically panic and grab the top of his head. 

"This okay?" he asks silently, only for you to hear.

"Mhm."

No words are exchanged once again, the game officially starting. Jungkook stays true to his words. Whenever Maya takes her attack into action, Jungkook tries to dodge it by moving you and him. 

"Y/N, you gotta push me babe." Maya laughs.

"I don't like this game!" you complain. Second after, Maya goes to push you and you stumble, yelping and holding Jungkook for your dear life. 

The couple laughs.

Jungkook has a tight grip on your legs, securing you which makes you more confident. You still don't like this game. But when Maya starts her attack again, you grow annoyed and try to push her. She stumbles and Namjoon has a hard time staying balanced. Once they're balanced, Maya gasps and laughs at your attack. 

"What?" you grumble, "I can get competitive too." 

"That's not fair. You've got Jungkook on your team." Maya laughs through her complaint. 

"Hey!" Namjoon feigns offense. 

"You're great, baby, but look at Jungkook. They haven't stumbled, not even once." 

Namjoon shoots you an amused grin, shaking his head at his girlfriend as you start wrestling again. In the middle of it, your and Maya's girlie gasps, yelps and giggles resound around the lake. You both grow weak from all the laughter, both men urging one of you to win. The final blow happens when you're close to falling, Jungkook holding you tight and balancing you as he brings you closer to the couple. All you have to do is push some more as Maya stumbles and falls into the water. 

"Oh shit." you gasp, hands placed over top of Jungkook's head as Maya emerges from the water a second after. She's laughing which makes you sigh in relief. 

"That was so fun!" she says happily, kissing Namjoon as the couple gets into their own world again and you two end up staring at the couple making out right in front of you.

You clear your throat. Jungkook gets the hint and gets you off his shoulders, carefully and slowly until he makes sure you're okay. He's holding you until your feet touch the ground.

"Everything good?" he asks, which makes you nod at him.

"Yeah, thanks."

You both glance away just as Maya stops sucking off her boyfriend's face. "You guys. We were thinking about going on a short hike again. You wanna join?" 

"Yeah, I found this other trail and apparently there is some good view. It's like ten minutes from here." Namjoon joins.

"I--" You and Jungkook say at the same time. 

"Jimin, are you going with us too?" Namjoon asks approaching Jimin, his hair wet from the water too.

"Where?"

Namjoon explains his plan which makes Jimin shrug. "Yeah, sounds good. Are you guys going too?" he asks, eyes stopping at you and Jungkook. 

You're both quiet, none of you dare to say a word as Jimin raises his brow. His features turn stern, giving you a knowing look. 

"Yeah." You and Jungkook's voices collide but create the same answer. 

With Jimin tagging along, you do feel like being on a trip with a strict father who's silently watching your every move. It just might be your paranoia. The obvious distance between you and Jungkook seems to wordlessly prove his point. One game won't fix the issue. So won't a hike.

Jungkook keeps to himself for most part, saying short bits here and there. Maya walks ahead with Namjoon, the couple's hands locked together and surprisingly, Taehyung has decided to join at the last minute. You're happy about that though. Without him, you can't imagine what awkward silence there would be. Nor you or Jungkook talk much which is rare, something Jimin and Taehyung clearly notice but luckily decide not to comment. It's already awkward as it is.

You and Jimin somehow stay behind, walking slower than the rest as you see Jungkook taking pictures of Maya and Namjoon while Taehyung stands beside them, looking where he could possibly sit.

Looking at your friends, you feel Jimin's eyes on the side of your face which makes you silently chuckle. "Just say what you wanna say."

"Why do you think I wanna say something?" Jimin asks.

You give him a look which makes him chuckle softly. 

"I'm just checking on you. I don't think me telling you something is gonna fix things." Well, that's true. 

"I'm miserable, but I'm planning to fix it." you inform him instead.

He remains silent for a moment, maybe not quite sure what to say before he nods in understatement. 

"I talked to Taehyung." 

"What did he say this time?" you ask right away, no beating around the bush since you both know Taehyung very well. 

Jimin laughs silently, shaking his head. "He didn't tell me what you talked about." He clarifies which does make you slightly surprised. 

"Really?"

"Well I didn't exactly pry."

"We both know Tae doesn't need anyone to pry. He's gonna tell you stuff on his own." you joke, the two of you laughing at the honest description of Taehyung's personality. 

"Yeah, but he didn't this time." he assures you.

Taehyung possibly saying anything about your conversation to Jimin doesn't exactly affect you. You didn't tell him much details and even if you did, you don't mind. But it seems fair to talk to Jungkook first, explain your behavior to him first before you go around and talk about it to anyone else. Sure, Maya knows. But that's only because she figured it out on her own. That situation was different overall. 

"He just told me he talked to you. You seemed sad and I... I don't know. I'm sorry?" he questions, "I'm not sure what to say but I want you to know that you and Jungkook are gonna figure it out. Don't worry too much, okay?" he ends softly.

In the end, they all want what's best for you. And when they see one of you struggling, they are there for that person. 

"I know," you mutter just as softly, "Thanks."

As you join the others on top of the hill, Taehyung's in the middle of sentence when your sneakers slip against a bigger rock. You yelp, stumbling and ready for a fall before a hand clasps around your wrist and keeps you steady.

Mouth open and heart beating fast from the shock, you see a familiar set of eyes frowned in worry. “You okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You clear your throat, Jungkook's touch fading just as Taehyung's voice.

You ignore the little smirk Maya tries to hide, feigning innocence as Namjoon subtly pokes her side.

Once you come back to the camping site, not much has changed. Everyone seems to be enjoying their time here and for that, you're glad. Your unnecessary drama with Jungkook has caused enough trouble. One that you're the cause of. You're stupid for opening your mouth and letting jealousy get the worst of you. Sure, you've both fucked up eventually, but you realize your mistake here. To truly resolve this, you and Jungkook must talk. 

Jimin has –purposely or not – given you the little push you might've needed. Though you're very aware of his inner thoughts and opinions he might've not talked about this time, you know he was being a good friend. He's trying to turn you in the right direction. 

However, getting to the actual task is not as easy as it seems.

Everyone's having a good time, including Jungkook who's more talkative than yesterday. Trying to talk to him will just attract everyone's attention, so you stupidly retrieve every time you think it's the right time to just call out his name and let him know you want to talk. 

Argh!

You're mad at yourself for making this difficult. 

But as the night comes and drinking continues, the atmosphere is too good to potentially mess it up. Jungkook's flushed cheeks and big doe eyes tell you he's already tipsy. If you want to have a proper conversation, you want both of you to be sober. To be fair, you've had a fair share of beer as well and it's better to sort this out later. 

You're leaving tomorrow though. And that thought makes you upset with yourself even more. You've managed to be on this camping trip without properly talking. Not only that, but you also haven't sorted anything which naturally makes you frustrated. Because… What's the big deal? He's Jungkook. It has always been easy to talk to him. 

You're aware of the embarrassment still lingering deep within your chest. And fuck. You haven't even confessed what caused your reaction last week.

It's a stupid argument.

And you also don't want to spend the rest of this camping trip overthinking stuff, nor spend it regretting something that can't be changed. So you focus on the people around you. You laugh, talk and enjoy your last night here because your other friends are here too.

It comes to midnight, most of the guys already gone, barely able to keep their eyes open. Ester and Jin went to sleep and shortly after, Maya and Namjoon joined them. You're thinking of it too, your eyes start to feel heavy and the previous effect of alcohol starts to wear off. Well, you surely haven't gotten wasted, which can't be said about Jimin and Taehyung. The two men cling to each other like a loving couple as they whisper their appreciation for their youth (as they called it). 

While they reminisce about their old times, Hoseok is close to tripping while Yoongi laughs and makes no effort to actually help him, you notice Jungkook. He has detached from the camping fire and the group, moving closer to the tall trees as your brows furrow. Already on your feet, you distance yourself from the noise and make your way to him.

“Jungkook!”

His steps falter before he glances over his shoulder. You watch the subtle surprise on his face, based on the way his brows lift up, before you're met with a perfect sight of his rosy cheeks and the effect alcohol has left on him. 

“Where the hell are you going?”

He gives you a lazy smile, one you haven't realized you missed. In fact, you've missed any kind of smile of his. This trip has been crazy which is a shame because you really hoped this one would take the cake.

He shrugs and while you're completely oblivious to his sudden drunken idea, you join him before he could get out of your sight. Not that he was trying to but you wouldn't want to risk it. Not a single person back there seems to be capable of possibly searching for missing Jungkook. 

You catch him by his wrist, you don't allow him to walk any further. “You're drunk.” 

Once again met with that lazy smile of his, he remarks: “So are you.”

“I'm tipsy. Not as drunk as you anyway.” you correct, his lips pouting a little.

“You didn't talk to me.” he admits silently.

Features faltering, your fingers twitch around his wrist as you slowly let go. “I wanted to.”

“Why didn't you?”

“Because we all drank a lot, Kook. I would rather talk about this when we're both sober.”

It is true. Though you should've talked to him sooner. You shouldn't have waited until well, it's too late to talk tonight anyway. Jungkook has given you the space to come to him when you want to talk. It seems like he's been waiting for you to approach him this whole  time. You've failed to do that. 

“Kook,” he laughs silently, your lips twitching in a mere amusement when you notice his toothy (and drunk) grin. “I've missed that.”

You offer him a saddened smile with thousands of emotions behind it, though you remain silent because what's the point of talking about it now. “Come on. Let's go back and sleep it off.” 

You tug the sleeve of his oversized hoodie, motioning from where you came from. Luckily, he ends up following you instead of taking a spontaneous walk in the dark woods or whatever he had planned. 

You're both shocked to find the fire extinguished and seats empty as everyone has seemed to go to sleep. Sighing, Jungkook simply waves you a goodbye as he stumbles to his tent. You watch him, wondering whether you should help him or not but in the end, he seems to manage as he disappears inside his tent. Rubbing your forehead, you decide to not stay outside any longer. Everything does have a different vibe with no one outside.

Unzipping your tent, you expect Yoongi to be sprawled all over the place utmost. What you don't expect however, is Taehyung there with him as the two men messily lay there. It even makes you pull out your phone and turn on your flashlight to make sure you're seeing right. Taehyung's legs are spreaded and outstretched, his arm thrown over Yoongi's chest while your usually annoying co-worker is gone just as much.

“Fucking great.” you mutter, nudging Taehyung's foot with your own. 

His lack of response and ignorance (from his obvious intoxication) causes you to be harsher with your movements which eventually makes a set of drunken curses be spat out at you. Knowing there's no point of trying to get him out of there, you zip the tent back up. Rubbing your forehead and keeping the frustration to yourself, you glance at Jungkook's tent before a silent groan slips past your lips.

Fucking Taehyung. 

Unzipping Jungkook's tent, you get inside just as he is still awake and very much drunk as lifts his head up to check the intruder. “Who are you?”

Rolling your eyes, you respond. “It's me.”

Leaving your shoes outside, you quickly zip the tent back up to avoid any insects getting inside. “Taehyung somehow ended up taking up my tent. You don't mind if I stay here, right?”

You turn your screen on, lighting up the dark space to see where you can lay down. Jungkook's face is scrunched at the bright light as you apologize before quickly laying down at the space beside him.

“'M–don't mind.”

Chuckling, you make yourself more comfortable as you turn to face him. When your eyes adjust to the darkness, you notice him laying on his back with hand over his chest.

“I should've talked to you today.” you mutter, wondering if he even hears you when you're met with silence.

But that doesn't last long when a silent sigh leaves him. “It's–mm–okay.”

“No, it's not. Look, I wasn't really acting right and I should've–”

“Let's talk about it tomorrow, m'okay?” he breathes out tiredly, turning onto his side as he faces you. “No fighting.”

You chuckle unsurely, embarrassed by your previous argument once again. That's until Jungkook pulls you closer to him, offering you his warmth which you gladly take. Scooting closer to him, face inches from his clothed chest and the familiar scent of him, he loudly sighs as a silence follows. 

That's until it's interrupted by incomprehensible slurs coming from Jungkook.

“What?” you ask, frowned while trying to understand him.

“'M sorry.” Is all he says before completely dozing off. 

As the birds start to chirp and the air gets a little too warm, you're shaken out of your sleep despite the sleepiness making you dizzy. In and out of your consciousness, going back to sleep is not something that comes easy. Especially when memories of yesterday night start to slowly click in once you crack your eyes open, finding yourself in a different tent. 

Soon, with your conscience more present, you realize the warm air is not the only thing that keeps you warm. You've managed to get out of the sleeping bag, probably when sunrise has hit the sky and it started to get a little too unbearable in this tent. However your back feels like it's burning. With your legs intertwined with – what you soon realize – Jungkook's, his arm draped over your waist and chest pressed against your very much burning back. 

To find yourself in this position again causes you to be unsure of how to react. You hate how comforting it feels like, especially after everything you both have been through. There's still a lot to talk about, something you should most likely do before this trip comes to an end. However, you still wish to stay in this position a little longer. Perhaps acting like nothing's wrong for a while won't hurt anybody. 

Jungkook's body temperature does make you shift, your bodies rubbing as you finally notice the undoubted erection he's sporting in his shorts. That alone causes your pulse to quicken up, heat spreading all over your face as if you were the one with obvious erection. While aware that this is something he can't always control, it does feel slightly superior to experience this again. The close and intimate position causes you to feel more than it normally would. His cock is nestled between your asscheeks and you have no idea what to do with this information. 

While you're trying to keep your cool about it (and dissuade yourself from acting upon your secret sexual wishes), Jungkook is bound to wake up by the little shift you make when you start feeling the first traces of sweat. Still, when he shifts in his spot you tense up. 

"Ignore it." he says simply and completely groggily, proving he has just woken up. 

There's a couple of things you could do right now. But you should also be more logical than you've been over the past week or so. That's why you ignore any devilish scenarios there could potentially happen, obeying his first morning words. 

Jungkook unwraps his body from yours, turning onto his back with a soft groan. Stretching his limbs, he sits up with messy hair while shooting you a sideways glance. Turning on your back and exposing your face to him, you both share a glance of pure nothing. You two just have a quick look at each other before Jungkook rubs his face while yawning. 

"Is anyone awake?" he asks.

Shrugging, you answer. "I don't know, I just woke up." 

"Right." he nods. 

Why is everything suddenly so awkward? 

"Well, I'm gonna make myself something to eat. You want something too?" he asks while gathering his shirt nearby, covering his torso with it. 

When you don't answer, he glances back at you which shakes you out of your trance. "Ah, maybe? I don't know what's left." 

"I'll go check." 

And he's out of the tent, leaving you alone with not only messy hair but messy mind as well. Deciding not to lay there long enough for you to overthink everything from the start, you put your slides on and join Jungkook outside. You find him rummaging through a few packages of snacks that have been left on the outside table, scratching the back of his head. 

He heard you walking toward him, shooting you a short glance. "There's nothing much left. I guess the rest of the food is in the caravan." 

As Jungkook is ready to go there, you tug onto his hoodie to stop him. "You're gonna wake them." 

Everyone seems to be still asleep. You have no idea what time it is, but it's definitely too early for you two to be awake too. Especially when you went to sleep last. You could definitely use more sleep but that's not currently possible. Your mind is whirling with never-ending thoughts, so there's no point in attempting to fall back to sleep. 

"So? I'm not gonna stay hungry." Jungkook pouts, clearly not liking the thought of not eating his precious breakfast which let alone makes you chuckle because you're very aware of his disappointment. 

"I'm not sure if there's much left anyway." 

Seokjin did mention something about possibly running out of food yesterday, but no one really bothered to sort it out right then. It was too late anyway and everyone started drinking. 

"Maybe we should go and buy something." you propose, avoiding Jungkook's pair of eyes on you as you busy yourself while looking around. 

Things are still tense, at least too tense for you two, and just because you talked a little yesterday and today too doesn't mean everything is alright. Though you at least communicate with each other, woke up in a close proximity fully cuddling each other. 

"Alright," he sighs in the end. "Let me just go wash my face and brush my teeth."

"Yeah, I gotta do that too." you murmur before both of you get ready. 

While you do your morning routine and share a bottle of water to wash your face and rinse your mouth, there are no words spoken or even uttered. You both change to more clean and suitable clothes. Jungkook has abandoned his hoodie and is wearing his casual oversized black shirt with a pair of new shorts. You've decided to wear one of your summer dresses. It's not like there will be any opportunity to wear it on this trip since you haven't gone to the town yet. 

Being back in Jungkook's car brings you a weird sense of nostalgia though that's definitely a bit dramatic. You've been fighting for a week, in any case, it shouldn't be that serious at all. Is it weird to say you're glad to be here? 

You and him are in the car together, listening to some music like any other times you've gone on a ride together. Pretty sure both of you can sense how there's this odd tension between you two, you both ignore it and go to the nearest convenience store. Once you're done, you find a hot-dog stand and decide to have your breakfast there. Jungkook pays, ignoring your useless attempt of pulling out your wallet which leaves you to mumble an appreciative thanks . He waves you off, silently telling you not to mention it. 

When you get back, everyone's still sleeping. Jungkook sets the grocery bag onto the table when you approach him, nervously and unsure as you mutter his name. 

"Hm?" 

"Can we talk?" you ask, his movements pausing as he sets the bottle of coke down. 

You both know what that means. 

"Sure. Here?" he questions. 

"Let's take a walk." you offer, causing him to nod as he follows you. 

You decide to take a walk to the lake, knowing there's a short bridge where you can comfortably sit and talk in a peaceful and quiet surrounding with no interruptions. As you sit down on the hardwood, Jungkook joins you as you both take the time staring ahead and breathing in the summery air. Fiddling with your fingers in your lap, you steal a glance at Jungkook who catches you almost immediately. It leaves your cheeks warm as you let out a chuckle, the amusement dancing on his face. 

"I don't know how to start," you admit truthfully. "But I know I should explain myself, I should have from the start actually... but never mind. I should explain why I acted that way at Tae's place." 

"We both let things get out of hand." he mutters and you nod.

"Yes, but I started it. Which makes me embarrassed that I let myself act like that in front of not just you, but Jimin and Taehyung as well." 

"Why did you then?" 

"Because I was jealous of Ester." you let out the painfully awkward words out. 

But for the first time since the argument, you feel the weight on your chest slowly dropping. 

Jungkook snaps his eyes toward you, looking shocked and confused as ever. "Jealous? What? Why?" 

"It's stupid," you chuckle nervously. "I never had to share you with any other girl. I mean—like a friend. You never brought any girl into our group and I guess I felt threatened in a way. I know it sounds stupid and I swear I'm not possessive or anything like that! Ester is actually nice and I felt like a total bitch the entire time here, even before we came here." 

"It never crossed my mind this could be the case. I'm sorry." Jungkook mumbles slowly, still gathering his thoughts. 

"Kook, I'm the one who's sorry. I overreacted. I should've talked to you sooner or explained myself right there at Tae's. But I decided to be stubborn and childish, I wasn't truthful because I didn't want to admit out loud that I was just jealous." 

"I gotta admit I was pretty clueless back then. I didn't know why you were suddenly so against Ester. It just—it got out of hand, I guess we both can agree with that," You nod. "I didn't act right too. I shouldn't have said some of the things I did." 

"We both shouldn't have," you add. "And it did hurt hearing you comparing me to her. That made me even more upset, which only escalated." 

"I—" He stops himself, sighing as he closes his eyes almost painfully. "That came out wrong. I wasn't trying to compare you two. What I meant by that was just... I couldn't understand why you got so hostile about her going and I thought you would understand that since you were in her position too. You know how hard it can be making friends. Which doesn't excuse any of my reactions, I'm just trying to explain myself too." 

"No, I know. It feels nice to finally talk about this openly," you assure him. "And I admit my mistake here too. I was acting like that because I was jealous." 

"There's no need for you to be jealous, Y/N." Jungkook assures you, softly and with a pinch of lightness to his voice which both makes you chuckle gently and silently.

"And then you assumed the whole tent situation and I just bursted. I was sensitive because of my emotions." 

"I'm sorry. I clearly wouldn't assume you share it with her if you didn't want to. It was a mere idea." he mumbles. 

"I know. In other cases I would be completely fine with it. But I wasn't because..." 

"Because you got jealous." he finishes for you, things starting to make more sense to him. 

"... yeah." 

"I meant it. Ester is my friend but she's never going to replace what you and me have. I'm serious." 

You find Jungkook staring right back at you, making sure you see how serious he is about that and it does offer you everything you've needed. Assurance. 

"I'm sorry, Kook. I really am. It all got messy and if I knew my reaction would end up with us fighting, I would keep my mouth shut. I even invited Yoongi for fuck sake!" you exclaim, Jungkook snickering under his breath. 

"Yeah, you totally did that just to piss me off." 

You offer him a weak attempt of a sheepish smile. It's all good though, it causes him to laugh because he knows . 

"I'm sorry too, if I hurt you. I want you to know I never meant it the way you took it. It wasn't right for me to say some of the things too. I got frustrated and annoyed. I also want you to know that I get hurt and upset too." he admits silently, almost as if he's scared to say it out loud. 

It causes your features to twist into sadness and empathy as you nod. 

"I'm nowhere near perfect. I fuck up too." he adds. 

"We both fucked up. But I guess I'm the bigger culprit in this." You try to joke, but Jungkook only glances at you with a soft gaze. 

"We were both stupid and petty. There's no need to point fingers at who was worse. Let's just leave it at that." 

You stay in silence, hearing the birds flying here and there as they chirp in the background. For a moment, you feel like you can't think. There are no thoughts in your mind, yet it feels like your head is suddenly going to burst with them. 

Feeling overwhelmed is an understatement in this situation and before you know it, your eyes sting and water. Sniffling silently, you catch Jungkook's attention and you know there's no point in hiding it anymore. 

"It just got all so messy!" you cry out, Jungkook's mouth opening and features twisting in sadness. 

"Come here," He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his side as he hugs you. "We are both idiots. But we talked about it and apologized. So no crying, hm?" he offers, gently pressing a kiss on top of your head. 

You chuckle through your tears, giving him a weak nod. "I just can't believe we took it this far." 

Jungkook hums, keeping you close to him. 

"I don't want to lose you, Kook." 

"You're not going to lose me, silly." 

"But we never argued like this!" 

"You also never got jealous before. We never had any other female friends around." he says lightly, trying to assure you that it's alright because you do need that assurance. 

"It's your fault." you click your tongue, poking his side as he lets out a dramatic gasp. 

"My fault?" 

"Yes, I told you I'm not allowing any girls in our group." you joke, giving him a look which causes him to laugh.

He throws his head back before he stares for a little longer, laughter slowly dying down as he gently pokes your cheek. "You were also wasted at that time. I didn't think you would take it this seriously." 

"It's fine," you assure him. "It was stupid of me to get this jealous." 

"Well, I can assure you that there's no other Y/N, alright?" he teases, nudging your side as you feel your cheeks heaten up once again, a shy smile crossing on your lips.

You have to be honest. It feels fucking great to hear him say that. This way it feels like him having any other possible female friends is no big deal. You've always known what you and Jungkook have is special. You've had that since you met him and her closer. It was dumb of you to question that but well, jealousy is a disease. It's a vile emotion. 

The silence follows shortly after, the memories coming back to you as you let out a sigh. "We fought like petty kids. But you know what actually made me upset? The first night here. In the woods." 

Jungkook looks at you, giving you all the attention as you take the cue to continue. 

"I wasn't upset with you. I was upset with myself for letting our friendship get to this point. Since when do we solve our problems by fucking through them?" 

Jungkook opens his mouth, though no response comes out of it. 

"I don't regret it. I think we acted upon our frustration and damn, we had lots of it." 

"We sure had. The sex was good though." 

You snicker, nudging him this time as he laughs. "It was. But once it was over, I got this anger at myself. I thought 'what did we do with our friendship?'. But thinking of it now, a part of me is like, but what's the big deal? I don't know if I make any sense right now."

"No, you do. I mean... I knew you were mad, I didn't know why exactly but when you said something like this didn't happen, I knew you're upset." 

"I agreed to that sex, Kook. I wanted it." You make sure he knows that. You don't see inside his head, but you need to know that there's not an ounce of regret of what happened in those woods. For a moment it was thrilling and the only thing you felt like you needed. You're upset because you felt that way. Not because it happened. 

"It got all too much for me. From the argument a week ago to the point where we couldn't stand each other. I just asked myself what we have become?" 

Jungkook hums in acknowledgment. 

"Maybe we should take a break?" you ask. 

You've never thought of it earlier on. Damn, you're not even sure how this came out all of a sudden. Just a sudden idea that currently makes sense. Though, you're not sure about it completely, talking to Jungkook about it seems like the first step. 

"A break?" 

"From the sex. Learn how to be best friends again." 

"Weren't we best friends all this time?" he chuckles. 

You know what he means. Regardless of your intimate life together, outside of it you were still the same. Perhaps you're just overreacting and are still upset over how you dealt with things instead. Actually, you're sure that's why. But maybe this could be beneficial for you two. 

So you tell him exactly that, met with a moment of silence before he breaks it. 

"I'm not sure what to say. I don't wanna say anything to disregard you. If this is what you want or think is right, I'm up for it." 

"You don't think a break could be... good?" 

"I mean, we don't know unless we try." he shrugs. "I told you whenever you want to end this, we can. You're in control of this too." 

"I don't regret having sex with you, Kook." 

He chuckles but once he sees your raised brow, he clears his throat and rubs the tip of his nose gently. "I know you don't. I wasn't thinking of that at all." 

"I just want you to know." 

"I know, don't worry." he smiles. 

"So, it's all behind us?" 

"Of course. Fighting with you fucks me up more than you think." he laughs as you join. 

"God, everyone witnessed our bickering and childish behavior." you whine, hiding your face in your hands as Jungkook rubs your back before he retrieves his hand. 

"Fuck them. Who cares?" 

"I do," you whine. "That shit was embarrassing. So embarrassing that I even apologized to Yoongi the other day. He was trying to console me but he's pretty shit at it." 

Jungkook only snickers. 

"That's when you came in. It wasn't what—"

"You don't owe me any explanation, okay?" he says gently, brushing a strand of hair off your face. 

"And he actually fingered me when we—I lied." 

Jungkook chokes on his spit, coughing. "What?" 

"I mean—I lied but didn't realize it. I was so out of it that I couldn't remember properly. It wasn't my fault, it was yours actually." 

"My fault?" Jungkook laughs, amused. 

"Mhm." You don't tell him that his sex capability literally makes you lose your mind sometimes. "I just had to set the record straight."

"Well, thanks for letting me know your co-worker fingered you as well. Thanks for the kindness." he mutters under his breath, shooting you a grin when you slap his thigh. 

"We're good?" 

"We're good, stupid." he laughs, hugging you to him as you hug him back. 

Burrowing your head in his chest, you smile for the first time in a long time. Genuinely. 

"You guys made up?!" 

You slowly pull off from each other, looking behind you to find shirtless Taehyung, very much awake and not hungover like you would've expected him to. He's got experience, you guess. 

"Finally!" 

He claps loudly, catching the attention of others as you slowly make them come closer to Taehyung. Jimin frowns, asking something as Taehyung responds. Jimin shoots you a thumbs up. 

"Now fuck each other's brain out!" 

Looking at each other with Jungkook, you both burst into laughter. 

"I'm gonna kill him." 

You hope not everyone has heard that but luckily, there's only Jimin next to him who slaps his back which causes Taehyung to completely ignore him as he shoots you a boyish grin, not forgetting to wiggle his brows at you. 

"Yup. Me too." Jungkook says, standing up as he offers his hand to help you stand up. 

You gladly take it, the two of you smiling at each other before you join the others.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Prompt: 25.“If I’m being mean to someone, I’m probably flirting.” “Is that why you’re always mean to (character)?”

Charachter: Tolkien - Boromir

The only note I leave you is that the companion for Boromir is a woman, then if human or of a different race I leave it to your imagination to decide 😊

Thanks in advance even just for the attention and compliments for all the stories you always give us, I adore you and your writings 😍 sending hugs 🤗

Teasing As Flirting- Boromir x Elf!Reader

A/N: Thank you for the love! Tiny bit of Gigolas in here too. Italics is in elvish

“If I’m being mean to someone, I’m probably flirting,” you spoke with your friend Legolas, as you sit together on a large rock, watching the other members of the fellowship enjoy a nice break.

“Is that why you’re always mean to Boromir?” Your friend asks with a teasing and knowing smirk.

Turning to him with a shocked expression you slap him across the chest playfully.

“Is it a similar reasoning as to why you’re so mean to Gimli? Yes, see, two can play at that game, my old friend. Besides, I’m not being mean to him, I’m being honest. He does smell and he does need to control his movements with his blade more.” You try to defend your obvious crush to your oldest friend.

“Hmm, I must be confused with another friend of mine, but I remember you once telling me that you found the smell on men interesting, and not as appalling as others complained. And I know you well enough, old friend, to know that you recognising how he handles his blade means that you’ve been watching him rather closely.” Legolas challenges you, as his knowing smile grows

“Shut up, Legolas. You take a chance with the dwarf and I’ll take a chance with the human. Huh, what a pair we are.” You half laugh, and half scoff to yourself as you walk to check on the halflings and Boromir.

Boromir immediately notices your approach and stops helping the halflings. Walking over to you, he has his usual sweet smile on his face that seems to radiate sunshine, and you try your best not to let it affect you too outwardly.

“You know when you talk that elvish language it does sound beautiful, but I often wonder what you say.” Boromir compliments; both his words and the way he says them making you swoon internally.

“Maybe you should learn then, you stupid man,” comes your insult, that is definitely not flirting.

“Well maybe a certain beautiful elf maiden should teach me,” he continues to flirt, his grin widening and his compliment is followed by a cheeky wink.

“If only there were one around who’d have the patience,” you retort with a sly smirk.

You hand lightly touch his shoulder and down his arm as you pass him and make your way to the little ones.

Definitely not flirting.

[draculasfavoritewife]

Hunted

Summary: Tatooine is a planet filled with old ghosts, and when one of yours rears its ugly head again, your Mandalorian takes matters into his own capable hands.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and minor OC death at the end. Allusions to hunter/prey roleplay and bondage, my voice kink makes a couple of cameo appearances. I the writer was particularly thirsty for Din Djarin the day I wrote this and thus take full responsibility for the results.

This is really one of the most blatantly self-indulgent things I've written, born of many long daydreaming sessions and my love for any episode where my man rubs elbows with the delightful and despicable denizens of the OG desert planet. I truly can't explain it, Tatooine Din™️ just hits me different, so please enjoy this very long fic about it.

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

You step into the crowded main street of the city, taking a moment to let all of your senses adjust to the stark difference. The last week or so has been spent on the ship in a cold vacuum, the gleaming blur of hyperspace and the steady thrum of engines a constant gentle halo in the background. It was nice, if a little quiet for your personal taste. Your partner certainly doesn’t talk much, and you tend to spend much of your time alone with him less conversationally inclined as a result.

He’s rubbed off on you that way. 

Now the twin suns of Tatooine scorch down on you from above, making eyes that have become accustomed to soft darkness sting. A throng of street vendors, lowlifes, and ne’er-do-wells streams through the ragtag market on all sides, moving bodies chattering nonstop in floods of Basic, Huttese, Aqualish, Droid, and snatches of more exotic tongues. 

A moment, and you feel yourself suddenly at ease again, as your brain resets back to your old lifestyle in the Core Worlds. It feels like putting on a well-loved shaak-leather coat that remembers all your contours just right. 

“You look happy,” the Mandalorian observes from beside you. 

You always wonder about him, how he's actually faring under that helmet, so shiny in this harsh light that you come away with spots in your vision after glancing at him too long. Din walks with the easy confidence of a man that’s walked these alleys many times before, but you know him more personally than most. He’s a quiet man under that shell, one who vastly prefers his solitude and finds the company of most beings in the galaxy a soul-stealing chore after two minutes. 

And unlike you, he never relaxes. 

“I am.” You side-eye him, briefly admiring his prowling stride as he diligently scans the moving figures surrounding the pair of you. “Sometimes I really like big crowds.” 

“You’re crazy,” he remarks. “This many people add too many variables.” 

“Your comment stands.” You draw closer to him in order to reach into the satchel slung across his body and ruffle the Kid’s long ears. “But to me, it’s almost easier. I can usually read people’s intentions pretty well. Bodies speak louder in crowds.” 

“I suppose.” He hasn’t stopped his surveillance yet. You can guess at how his eyes are darting here and there beneath the visor. He probably has at least two escape routes planned out already, if not more. 

You want nothing more than to tell him to relax and enjoy himself — you’re not even here on hunter business, simply to refuel and stock up on supplies before your next run — but you know that’s a useless endeavor. 

“I found that strangely hot, by the way,” you say instead, since it HAS been taking up space in your mind for some time. 

“What?” 

“Finding out you speak Tusken. That’s VERY attractive.” 

It was. When he had to negotiate with the scouts on your way into town, you couldn’t deny the fluttering in your stomach at hearing his low, smoky voice bark out the harsh sounds as he supplemented his meaning with crisp sign language. 

And besides the sound of it, you certainly find it very hot for a man of his stature to be so willing and ready to communicate and settle fraught situations peacefully. 

“I — what — I don’t — ?” 

It still makes you grin, how easily flustered he is when you catch him off-guard with flirting. 

“Don’t you think so, Grogu?” You poke the Kid’s tiny nose. “Isn’t it attractive when your buir talks like that?” 

The little one squeals enthusiastically in response, probably more to your teasing than the actual question. 

“Stop that, don’t encourage her.” Din casts a disapproving look first at the Kid and then at you; it strikes you as funny how well you can translate such a simple tilt of the helmet. “And don’t you ask him that, he’s just a kid.” 

“I think you’re blushing under that bucket,” you smirk, sidling away. 

“I’m not.” 

You subside with the teasing for the time being, and the Mandalorian releases a sigh of relief as you start wandering, letting handmade jewelry and stoneware snatch your attention away from him. He’s getting better at keeping up with your rapid changes of interest, but somehow your more romantic moods still manage to get the better of him when you’re out in public. 

He blames the environment. When it’s just the two of you alone, he can see what’s coming in the slant of your lips or the way you suddenly decide to plant yourself right in front of whatever he’s working on. And he’s almost as likely to initiate now, so long as the Kid’s not in the same room. But out here, as his field of vision constantly shifts in the sea of bodies, and his right hand drifts between Grogu in his satchel and the pistol at his hip, he just doesn’t possess the bandwidth to also process what the kriff could possibly turn you on so much about his language skills. 

He tucks that particular piece of information away in a metaphorical corner, to dissect and possibly use at a later time. 

You return to him after your little side trip, flirtation seemingly forgotten for now. “I saw a ring at that one booth —” you gesture over your shoulder “— that I’m almost positive is dolovite. So pretty. I’m not even sure the vendor knows what he’s got. It’s tempting.” 

“I bet.” He notes the tone of your voice, the way you glance back one more time as the pair of you move on. 

“But we are here for the essentials, first and foremost. Maybe if it’s still there by the end of the day.” 

He nods thoughtfully, and listens as you ramble through the list of what the three of you need, both in terms of provisions and to keep the ship flying. 

The sooner you’re all able to leave this crowd and noise behind, the better. 

He doesn’t care for the feeling that his little clan’s safety isn’t completely under his control. 

Hours later, stewardship of the satchel carrying the Kid has passed over to you. Din carries the day’s purchases, slung from either end of the pole balanced across his wide shoulders. He watches affectionately from behind his immobile visage of beskar at the sight of you spiritedly haggling with a Twi’lek vendor over the price of fruit. The arm not being used to illustrate your point cradles Grogu, half-asleep, close to your torso, and it touches something deep inside him, to see you care for his foundling so naturally. 

The image almost — almost — lulls him into something resembling a dangerous sense of peace.

Almost, but not quite. 

Which is why, when the blaster bolt narrowly misses your shoulder and instead blows a crate of produce into a violently sticky explosion, he’s only a half-second slower than he normally would be as he pivots sharply and yanks out his own weapon. His shot drops the sniper leaning out of a second-story window across the street, a Rodian crumpling to the ground in a tangle of ragged cloak. 

His armor-clad body is positioned in front of you in another second, keeping you and the Kid sandwiched between the booth and his beskar as he rapidly searches for any more guns to rear their ugly muzzles. 

The market has dissolved into chaos around you, but no more fire is heard. 

You slip your DL-44 out of your back holster with one hand and push the satchel carrying Grogu further out of the way with the other. The road had cleared in seconds, the trembling fruit vendor ducking down behind his wares. The atmosphere is suddenly quiet, too many people holding their breaths all at once. 

“See anything?” you whisper to Din. 

“Negative,” he mutters back. “He was acting alone, or else the others have retreated. Looking for heat signatures is useless, they’re everywhere here.” 

A grim suspicion starts to rise in your chest, but you keep your voice removed as you step from behind him and give him a sharp nod. “Cover me? I need to take a look at our shooter.” 

He stalks behind you as you cross, your trigger finger settling into its well-worn spot in readiness. Grogu is silent; only the tips of his giant ears poke up from the top of the bag. 

For a kid, he’s been in enough firefights to know the drill by now. 

Arriving beside the smoking form of the Rodian, you flip him over and push aside the cloak, your hand drawing back when you see exactly what you were afraid you would find. 

The sigil of a sand ape emblazoned on his jacket in red. 

“Talk to me,” Din urges, voice tight. “Do you know why he was targeting you?” 

You straighten up and bite your lip for a second, struggling over the best way to break the news to him. You’d thought it was long enough ago that old scores would be forgotten, but on Tatooine, grudges rarely die, instead simmering deep beneath the filth like a krayt dragon awaiting its next meal. 

And now you’ve unwittingly brought your riduur and his ad’ika into danger. 

“I lived in Mos Eisley for a bit at one point.” You sigh. “And I left under…difficult circumstances. I’m a bit of a loose end as far as a local gang is concerned, Din. They paid well for some mercenary jobs — it was a nice temporary setup. Last hit I was hired for turned out to have a Guild bounty on him though, and they paid more to have him delivered alive. I saw a business opportunity and didn’t look back. But I made some powerful people here pretty angry.” 

“Dank farrik.” He curses under his breath. You can nearly hear his exasperated thoughts — can’t I have ONE uneventful outing? Just ONE? — but he shakes it off swiftly and is soon all business again, his next query clipped and brusque. “Does he have a tracking fob?” 

You shake your head. “They don’t want Guild here anymore, if you recall. No, it’ll be a more intimate affair, I’d bet my blades on that. This is about revenge and closure; if there’s a reward payout it’s from the boss man himself, and probably only advertised by word of mouth.” 

The Mandalorian refocuses his thoughts from where they ever so briefly derailed at your casual misuse of the term “intimate affair” and grunts his acknowledgment. “I gather the boss man wants you alive, then?” 

You laugh, a dry, ironic sound. “Oh, he will. I have a feeling he wants to watch me suffer a bit before he kills me. Or who knows?” With a shrug, you shove the body into an alleyway and return to where you both left your purchases, only the dance of your tense fingers across the grip of your blaster giving away your readiness to protect yourself. “Maybe he’ll make me his own personal slave instead. I knew all that club dancing I did would come in handy someday.” 

Din makes a hissing sound of annoyance at your flippant tongue as he follows. There’s something about the way you can talk so carelessly about such degrading fates that truly distresses him. He knows you don’t need his protection on the same level the Kid does, but the thought of either of those options actually befalling you under his watch makes his hands clench into fists, leather gloves protesting as they stretch across his knuckles. But he knows too, that dark humor is often your way of dealing with stress, so he endeavors to let it slide and not see red. 

“Do you know where he is?” he demands suddenly. 

“The boss man? I used to. And there are people I could ask.” You take the satchel with the Kid off and hand it back to him, opting to take the parcels instead. He can fight with a baby strapped to him better than you can, and knowing you’re the primary target this time, you’d rather keep him safer. “Why?” 

“Later.” His voice has gone tense again, he must have seen something you don’t. “Right now we have to get out of here. You’re too exposed.” 

Your gaze falls on a nearby speeder bike with no obvious owner nearby. “They’ve gotten lax without me around,” you smirk, straddling the bike and revving its powerful engine. “Leaving their valuables all helpless and unattended. It’s a real shame.” 

The Mandalorian is staring at you, the drop of his shoulders suggesting surprise at your brazenness. 

“Get on,” you encourage him, laying the carrying pole across the seat behind you. “You’re getting twitchy, so there must be trouble. What’s got your cape in a twist?” 

He takes a seat behind you and settles his pulse rifle across his knees. “There’s a couple more in similar jackets closing in,” he reveals in an undertone. “And I just haven’t seen you…steal a vehicle before, is all.” 

A shot pings over his helmet before you can properly react to that. 

“Drive!” he orders, pivoting to return fire. 

You oblige, gunning the motor and tearing off down the main thoroughfare. “There’s still a few things you haven’t seen me do, Cyare,” you toss back as he dusts one of the gang members on your way past. “You and the Kid made me go soft.” 

He huffs doubtfully and nods to a narrow opening between buildings up ahead. “Can you get us out of sight?” 

“If you hang on tight enough.” You execute a tight turn at the last moment and shoot down the alley, glad the bike is compact enough to follow the cramped tunnel between the crumbling dwellings. “It’s gonna be rough ’til we’re in the open, though.” 

Din doesn’t answer in words, but his free arm wraps around your waist and you can feel the Kid’s small body tucked between the two of you. 

And it’s almost an oddly pleasant feeling, outrunning any would-be pursuers with the two of them held so close. 

By the end of the hour, supplies have been loaded into the ship and Grogu has been left in the doting care of Peli, who as always is more than happy to entertain the little guy as long as you and Din keep trouble far away from her repair station. You and the Mandalorian are now camped out on a rooftop overlooking the marketplace, a tattered fabric canopy mercifully providing some scant relief from the sunlight if not the oppressive heat. As always, your riduur appears totally indifferent to such a thing as physical discomfort, leaning out from under the awning to scope the street below through the sight of his rifle. 

Does his armor have an internal cooling system? Or are Mandalorians really just that tough? 

“You know, we could just leave,” you finally suggest. “It’s not like this particular group ever goes off-world.” 

“We could.” 

You can tell there’s a reason why he won’t. 

“But I return to Tatooine semi-frequently. And I don’t want you to constantly be looking over your shoulder every time.” 

You sit back with a sigh, idly tuning up your blaster. His ways are still foreign to you sometimes. Before your partnership, you made a life depending on adaptability and quick thinking. Having only yourself to worry about, and knowing there was no one else out there worrying about you, made it easier to simply uproot and go elsewhere whenever the heat was on you. 

Din is nearly the opposite. If there’s a way he can make things more secure for those in his care, if there’s a good enough reason, he won’t ever back down from a struggle.

He already has his mind made up. 

It’s just a bit jarring to realize that you’re the good enough reason this time. 

“What are you thinking, then?” you prompt. 

He doesn’t break his focus on the area below as he answers. “I’m thinking I just killed a couple gang members and got some interesting information out of them. I’m ex-Guild and looking for work, and being a ruthless mercenary, I might just be willing to turn on a crew member if the price is right.” 

You can’t help your sudden intake of breath at his ingenious plan. “And once we get there?” 

He finally turns to face you, his next words cold and hard as tempered beskar. “Then we kill him.” 

And there’s something a little bit more menacing in there than simple pragmatism. He has taken on the role of cabur for you and the Kid; this isn’t just about keeping trouble off your backs in future. 

Someone has threatened you, and he will not rest until that threat has been put down.

That is his duty, and he will not shirk it. 

“I love you,” you murmur, barely above the hot breeze that rakes through your hair. 

He rises to his feet, shoulders his rifle. “And I you. Which is why we’re going to have to make this look convincing. You get a two-minute head start. Whenever you’re ready.” 

You swipe a dull sand-colored cloak from a stall as you pass, immediately diving into the heart of the throng, which seems to have recovered from the earlier incident. Mos Eisley is nothing if not desensitized to crime and violence, and for a moment, you almost lose yourself in awe at the apathy of the average citizen as you let the flow of movement carry you along. Nobody cares what happens around here, so long as it doesn’t happen to them. 

It’s…odd, to remember how it felt to think that way. 

Shaking yourself back into the moment, you weave between beings of all shapes and sizes, focusing on making yourself forgettable and not appearing in too much of a hurry. You know Din will find you no matter where you end up — he’s just too good at his job not to. So for the moment you let yourself enjoy this little game, a moment spent as the quarry of a very desirable predator. 

It would be a lie to say you haven’t fantasized about this before. 

A ripple passes through the crowd to your left and behind you, people shifting to make room, like river currents split by a large stone. Only one person you know could possibly cause such a stir.

Only idiots choose to stand in the way of a hunting Mandalorian. 

Which means he’s here. 

Your heart accelerates and you try to think of a way to stall him just a little longer. Reluctantly pulling a few credits from your belt pouch, you regretfully let them scatter in the dust, knowing the only thing that reliably beats fear is greed. The people nearest to you devolve into pushing and shoving in their eagerness to get their hands on them, a writhing wall springing up between you and your pursuer. 

With a grin, you slip backwards, drifting in the opposite direction of where you had been headed before, catching the barest glimpse of sun glaring off metal as you pass. 

That's a little longer. 

He’ll expect you to be thinking the way he thinks, not the way you do, so you stamp down the inclination to think that way and instead travel into a seedier part of town, seeking out more raucous company. Wandering through cantinas and gambling dens, you pick up a refreshing blue milk along the way and almost start to let the tension ebb from your muscles. But when you see him emerge from the street and gaze through the window of the same building you were just about to exit, your adrenaline shoots up again. A dash through a maze of alleys and one stolen ride on the back of a droid rickshaw later, and even you aren’t so sure what part of the city you’ve made it to. 

The twin suns are finally beginning to sink lower in the sky as you thoughtfully chew on a piece of bantha jerky and walk through a crowded residential section, no doubt where the lower classes live. It’s much quieter here, the low-income strata not having the credits to spend on frivolities at the market. 

It’s almost…too quiet. 

You hear him before you see him, an almost deceptively musical clink of the explosive charges on his belt against his vambrace as his arm brushes past. There’s nowhere to run anymore, so you pull back your hood with an admittedly dramatic flourish and discard your savory treat, hands sliding to the twin vibroblades sheathed at your thighs. 

“So, its finally come to this, Mando.” You pull your knives and take up a fighting stance. “No use in trying to sweet-talk you out of this, is there?” 

He doesn’t answer, just pulls his own blade and gestures with his chin as if saying “Try me”. 

So you do. 

The pair of you has sparred many times before, and this altercation is brief but outwardly brutal. Finesse is nice, but necessity calls for any potential advantage to be pressed and pressed hard. For the agility your much lighter choice of clothing grants you, you can’t dent him when fully armored, so finally you resort to simple but effective tactics and throw dust in his face. 

Even a visor with a heat sensor takes a second to recalibrate from that. 

You do, however, have a scripted ending for this outing, and as you sprint off, his grappling cable snakes around your hips and down your legs, dropping you in the sand. He strides up to you, tosses a pair of binders down next to you. 

“Cuff yourself,” he orders, breath coming in heavy pants after your scuffle. “I’m taking you in.” 

And since it’s him who just captured you, who would have captured you eventually no matter what because he’s just THAT good, you don’t mind. 

No, you reflect as he hefts you over his shoulder and walks away from the few scattered spectators your fight drew out, you really don’t mind this arrangement at all. 

Maybe you’ll have to tell him that, later. 

Your former employer’s headquarters are still where you remember them, and you almost smirk at the sense of uncomfortable familiarity when Din lowers you to the floor and unties your legs. Still cuffed — and a bit tired after spending the afternoon trying to outwit the best hunter in the parsec — it’s not difficult to look angry and beaten down, kneeling there in the dust. 

The boss man rises from his seat at the table, a hulking Devaronian with a chipped horn and a hungry grimace. He swaggers over, nods at the Mandalorian standing behind you. 

“I suppose I can turn a blind eye at the loss of a few good men for this. You have absolutely no idea how this one little troublesome scavenger has been occupying my thoughts.” 

Din remains silent, simply holding out a hand, a wordless demand for payment. 

Your old boss grins, nods to a couple of lackeys to bring over the credits, hauls you to your feet by the back of your shirt. 

The Mandalorian’s hand brushes past your leg as you move, and one of your knives is quietly returned to its sheath. 

“Since you turned tail and ran so quickly after disobeying me, I assume you have some idea of what I do to clever little turncoats, don’t you?” sneers the Devaronian, leaning altogether too close for your liking. 

Your cuffed hands lower in seeming fear as you shrink beneath his intimidating glare. 

“This is going to be fun,” he threatens, a hand drawing up your neck and along your jaw. “You need to learn some respect, and I’m going to —” 

The vibroblade sunk deep into his chest cuts his words off rather suddenly. 

There’s a lot you can still do, even in binders. 

The outraged lackeys are swiftly dropped by precise shots from Din, and the two of you are left gazing at each other in a now oddly quiet room. 

“I don’t know if I’d call that ‘fun’," you remark to your limp ex-boss, crouching to retrieve your knife. “A little anticlimactic, actually. Bit of a shame I had to do that. But also satisfying to see your plan turn out so well, don’t you think, Mando?” 

Din doesn’t answer right away, tucking away the bounty that he earned by catching you. “We should be on our way,” is what he finally grunts. “There’ll be more gang members swarming this place any minute now.” 

“I agree.” Rising to stand in front of him, you hold out your arms expectantly, casting a flirty smile up at his dark visor. “And, much as I enjoyed being your prisoner for a day, you can let me go now.” 

There’s a long pause. 

He stares down at your bound wrists, up at your face, down at your wrists again. He appears to be pondering something very intently, and your breath turns a little choppy for some reason. 

“I don’t think I will,” he says simply, after a little more consideration. 

“You won’t?” 

“Not yet.” His large hands tenderly find your hips, and he throws you over his shoulder again, walking out the exact same way you came in. “You’ve caused me quite a day here, you know. Keeping track of you like this might be the only way to make sure we don’t run into any more trouble.” 

“What would happen if I screamed ‘Help, I’m being kidnapped!’ as you carry me down the street?” 

He snorts. “No one’s going to help you here, Cyar’ika. Who’s going to challenge a Mandalorian over his prisoner?” 

You smirk. “No one in their right mind.” 

“Besides, you just said you enjoyed this.” There it is, a sly edge to his filtered voice, the indicator that he has more going on in his mind than simply staying out of more trouble. 

“Oh no, caught by an attractive bounty hunter! I’ll probably never see the light of day again.” You groan dramatically and drape yourself a bit more comfortably as he loosens up into an easier stride. “I’m completely at his mercy — who KNOWS what devious things he’ll do to me behind closed doors?” 

“This bounty hunter is hot and tired, and in need of a shower, if that gives you any consolation.” 

“Ah.” You poke him in the back. “Are you saying you’re all sweaty under this shiny shell, Cyare?” 

A hand slides up the back of your thigh, a subtle reminder that you ARE currently at his mercy, as you just said. 

Undeterred, you try again, knowing he must be getting more riled up than he lets on. “Have I ever told you how much I like it, when you take all these awful layers off for me and you’re all sweaty underneath…?” 

“I would rein in my suggestive tongue a little, if I were you.” He’s still looking straight ahead, but the edge beneath his words is a bit more strained now. “If you behave for me until we get back to the ship, maybe I’ll even take those binders off.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

He sighs. “My belt compartment back there. Take a look.” 

You manage to get it open, and can’t quite stifle a delighted sound as you pull out the dolovite ring from much earlier. “You sneaky son of a — ! How — ?” 

“I gave you a two-minute head start,” he shrugs, by way of explanation. 

“I adore you,” you inform him as you slip the ring onto your finger, admiring its burnished color. “I’ll be a good little prisoner for you, Mando, I promise. And who knows…,” you nudge him again. “Maybe I’ll let you keep these binders on me after all, since you’ve been so good to me today.” 

He can’t find anything to say to that, but by the fact that you can see the flush creeping up the back of his neck in that tantalizing gap between cowl and helmet, you know he’s definitely sweating now, if he weren’t before. 

“Is my big bad bounty hunter at a loss for words?” you tease softly. 

He clears his throat. “Just saving my voice, Mesh’la. If you’re REALLY well-behaved, I might — possibly — be persuaded to talk Tusken to you later. Possibly.” 

The idea takes a moment to fully crystallize in your brain; Din, and a shower, and binders, and if you just stop teasing him so naughtily in public he might actually bring that unreasonably provocative language into the bedroom? 

You finally let yourself relax into his hold, and after a bit you hear his breathy sigh of relief that you aren’t going to keep tormenting him anymore for the moment. 

After all, he has put forth an offer you can’t refuse. 

Ad'ika = Little One/Small child

Cabur = Protector

[aflame4goinghome]

Illicit Affairs

d.r.w x reader

chapter ii

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!!! swearing, flirting, power dynamic; SMUT: fingering, touching, sexually implicit language, dirty talk, oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, slight choking, sir kink, spanking, a little bit of degradation, praise kink, hint of dom/sub dynamic

A/N: This story is in collaboration with my wonderful, talented friends @gretavanstink & @childinthegardenn!! Go give them a follow and give @gretavanstink’s fics some love! Thanks for sticking with us! We’re so glad you like the story so far :) Enjoy!

Listen to the official playlist on Spotify here!

chapter i

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

As you stand in the hall waiting for the elevator to open, you pull your phone out and see another text from Rose.

From: Rose🌹

HELLOOOOO? Are you alive?

The doors slide open and you step inside, pressing the button for the third floor and leaning back against the wall as you type a response to her.

To: Rose🌹

He made me stay back after everyone else left. CHECKED THE CLASSLIST LIKE HE DIDN’T KNOW MY NAME and told me to “hang back for a sec”

You press send and shove your phone back in your pocket as the elevator doors slide open. Stepping out, you turn your head to look down both sides of the hall and see a sign that points toward offices 311 to 321. You follow the sign, stopping in front of his closed door, and glance around for somewhere to sit. There’s an uncomfortable-looking bench tucked into an alcove across from his office and nothing else. Better than the floor, you think as you take a seat, plopping your bag down next to you. Your phone buzzes with another text from Rose as you notice the faux stained glass privacy shade Daniel has on his office window.

From: Rose🌹

Oh, he’s evil. What are you gonna do?

To: Rose🌹

I DON’T KNOW. He told me we should talk privately so now I’m just sitting here outside of his office waiting for him to get back from a meeting with another prof

From: Rose🌹

You’re insane, I love you. Keep me updated, I’m heading into another class🩷

To: Rose🌹

Love you too, I will🩵

You slip your phone into your back pocket and cross your legs, unsure of how long he is going to keep you waiting. Ten minutes pass with no sign of him and you let out a sigh, rifling through your bag and pulling out Dante's La Vita Nuova. You flip to your current page and set your bookmark on your leg, letting your back rest against the wall as you skim the page.

After about twenty minutes, you hear the clack of dress shoes on tile from around the corner and your stomach flips, recognizing the sound from class as Daniel paced around the room. You fix your posture and pretend to continue reading even though your brain is too scattered to absorb anything. 

Daniel rounds the corner and sees you waiting, a smug grin forming on his lips as he approaches you. Stopping in front of you, he plucks your book from your hands and glances at it before looking down at you and winking. He leans down and lifts your bookmark off your thigh, slipping it between the pages and placing the book back in your hands. Your eyes follow his every move, focusing on his hands, as he unlocks his office and steps inside, leaving the door open. You slip your book back into your bag and stand, slinging it over your shoulder as you step into the doorway.

 As you look in, you notice a black leather loveseat tucked between two bookshelves against the wall. The bookshelves are filled with different eras; the Italian Renaissance, the liberation of France, and the Industrial Revolution. Your eyes fall on a copy of Voltaire’s Alzire and a smile forms on your lips. The top shelf boasts a scale model of the Duomo di Siena and a photo of himself in his early twenties during what you assume was a study abroad program. Daniel clears his throat, snapping you back to reality, and you turn his way. 

“Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there?” He asks, leaning forward on his desk. His eyes travel down your body before flicking back up to meet your gaze. “Because I’m fine either way.”

You feel your cheeks redden and you step inside, pushing the door closed behind you. You lower yourself into the seat across from his desk and set your bag at your feet. You’re unsure what to say so you sit silently, returning his stare as he looks right through you.

“Well this is certainly a different view than I had the other night,” he finally says, leaning back in his chair. You fight the urge to look at the floor, keeping your eyes trained on him as he stands and moves around his desk to your side. He leans against it and folds his arms across his chest, watching your face for a reaction. 

“Daniel…” You say, your voice barely a whisper. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “We have to stop, right?”

Daniel shrugs his shoulders and lowers his arms, bracing himself on the edge of the desk and crossing his ankles. Your eyes leave his face and focus on how his fingers wrap around the edge of the wood, the way his forearms flex and his veins bulge.

“If that’s what you want,” he says, his tone bordering on indifference. A smirk forms on his lips as he notices you staring at his arms again and he pushes off the desk. He walks around your seat and places his hands on the back, leaning down to speak in your ear. “I don’t think that’s what you want though, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel him brush your hair to one shoulder, his lips ghosting over your neck as he says, “No. I think you like this.”

You push yourself out of your seat and walk to the window that overlooks the quad, the closeness making your head spin. After taking a moment to collect yourself, you turn back to face him again, leaning back against the windowsill. 

“I think you like it,” you say, bringing your eyes up to meet his as he crosses his arms, watching you.

“You’re right,” Daniel says, closing the distance between you. He places his hands on the windowsill, trapping you between his arms, and looks down at you. “But you didn’t deny liking it.”

He captures your lips with his, one hand moving to the small of your back to pull your body against his. You relent, returning the kiss, as if you were putty in his hands. You didn’t deny it because you couldn’t. Something about him made you feel like a live wire, dangerous. You feel his tongue run across your lips and you part them, letting him in. He breaks the kiss and places more along your jaw, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt and resting on your waist. 

“It’s wrong isn’t it?” You ask breathlessly as he continues down your neck. He lifts his head and looks into your eyes but doesn’t let go of you. You can feel your arousal soaking through your panties as he holds you tight to him.

“Says who?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “We’re both adults.”

Daniel lets his hand wander down the outside of your thigh and then between your legs, pausing there and smirking. 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want this,” he says quietly, his hand drifting up to the button of your jeans.

“I do, but,” you sigh and place a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly. “I’m your student.”

Daniel takes his hand off of you and backs up, giving you space to breathe. You return to the seat across from his desk and cross your legs, looking at your hands and picking at your thumb absentmindedly as you think. He takes your place, leaning against the windowsill, and waits patiently for you to continue.

“Like, morally, this is wrong,” you say finally, turning your gaze towards him. “And if we get caught it’ll be a world of trouble for both of us.”

“Guess we can’t get caught then,” he says, sitting back down. He leans forward, resting his arms on the desk. “Just think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” you say quietly, nodding. You stand and slip on your backpack and Daniel stands as well, walking you to the door. He pauses with his hand on the doorknob and looks down at you, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Don’t think too hard,” he says, twisting the knob and opening the door.

“I’ll let you know by the end of the week,” you say, smiling softly and stepping into the hallway.

You make your way back to the elevator and press the down button, standing back and waiting for the doors to open. When they slide apart, you step inside, press the button for the ground floor, and lean back against the wall, letting it hold your weight up as you take a few deep breaths. The doors open and you walk through the lobby and out into the afternoon sun.

You pop your earbuds in and start your walk home, your music picking up where it had stopped earlier. Fitting, you think, blowing a short laugh through your nose, as Should I Stay or Should I Go by The Clash flows into your ears. You hum along to the song, your mind replaying what just happened as you wander off campus. 

You buzz yourself into your building and jog a little to catch the elevator that another resident held open for you. When you get into your apartment, you toss your bag into the chair at your desk and flop onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. You fold your hands on your stomach and close your eyes, realizing how exhausted you are as you start to drift off.

Your eyes open at the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by Rose’s bedroom door closing, and you check the time on your phone, 4:57 pm. You let out a deep sigh and sit up, knowing you should at least try to read the syllabi for your classes tomorrow. 

You walk to your desk and pull the chair out, moving your bag to the floor next to you as you sit down and slide your laptop out of its case. As you type your password in, Rose knocks on your open door and leans on the doorframe, peeking in at you.

“So,” she begins, drawing out the word. “What happened?”

Reading can wait, you think as you turn your chair to face her, pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing heavily. 

“He kissed me in his office,” you say, feeling your stomach flip as you say it. “Against the window that looks over the quad.”

Rose’s eyes widen and she steps into your room, sitting on your bed cross-legged. She rests her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands as she waits for you to continue.

“And all I could think was that I wanted him to keep going,” you add, standing and joining her on your bed. You rest your back on the wall and let your head fall back. “What am I gonna do?”

“What do you want to do?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I want to crawl in a hole and come out when the semester is over,” you say, laughing and shaking your head.

“Well that’s not really an option, babe,” she says. You shoot her a look and roll your eyes, drawing a giggle out of her.

“What if I drop the class?” you ask, rubbing your temples. “Then I wouldn’t have to see him. I could just forget the whole thing.”

“Could you really just forget it all though?” Rose challenges, tilting her head to the side. “I mean…he’s really hot, Y/N.”

“I know, Rose,” you say. “I want him. But I’m his student.”

“Who cares,” she says, lengthening the second word. “It’s not like you have to fall in love. Just have good, hot sex.”

You burst into a fit of laughter at the idea, pushing Rose’s shoulder, and fall to lay on your side.

“Alright,” you relent. “Maybe you have a point.”

“What’s the harm?” She adds, shrugging her shoulders. You roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, resting your hands on your stomach. Focusing on the rise and fall of your stomach with your breath, you let your eyes fall closed and think quietly for a few moments.

“Just good, hot sex,” you repeat, opening your eyes and turning your head to look up at your best friend. “I told him I’d let him know by Friday.”

“See, you have time to think about it,” she says, patting your leg reassuringly. “Was he really that good?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and smirk, feeling your cheeks turn pink as you replay the night in the bar in your head.

“Best I’ve ever had,” you say, tossing your head back. “Like…unforgettable.”

“I could just forget the whole thing,” Rose teases, doing her best impression of you. You snap your head back up and slap her arm.

“Shut up,” you giggle. “Get out. I have some things to think about.”

“Oh you mean Dr. Wagner,” she says as she stands, running out of your reach before you smack her again. “I’ll leave you to it.”

She winks and walks out of your room, closing your door behind her and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sigh and sit up, your mind reeling at the way this semester was off to a start you couldn’t have imagined in your wildest dreams. Hopping off your bed, you grab your laptop and crawl under your covers. You give a quick skim over your syllabus for the rest of your classes, trying your hardest to focus as you add some important dates to your planner.

After an hour, your focus is shot and you decide to grab a quick shower, as you always do your best thinking in the warm steam. You strip out of your clothes for the day, deposit them in your laundry basket, and stand looking at yourself in your full-length mirror. Your hand finds the fading purple mark at your collarbone and your cheeks flush as you imagine Daniel’s lips on your skin. You turn your back to the mirror and look over your shoulder, seeing the bruises on your thighs and thinking of the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh. 

You let out a shaky breath and slip your robe on before making your way to the bathroom. Shrugging the robe off, you start the shower to let it warm up before you step in. You sigh as the hot water hits your muscles, the tension leaving your body and flowing down the drain with the water. Your mind wanders back to Daniel’s office as you wash your hair and a chill runs down your spine, bringing goosebumps to your arms and legs.

I think you like this, you hear him say in your mind. Tell me you don’t want this.

You rinse out your hair and lean against the wall, your hand reaching down to massage your clit. A sigh falls from your lips as you set a quick pace of circles with your fingers. You imagine Daniel’s fingers working you, his strong hands bringing you closer and closer to release. The hot water beats at your skin as you let your head fall back against the tiles, moaning softly as you feel the familiar tingle in your abdomen. 

Come on, sweetheart, give it to me, his voice echoes in your mind, sending you tumbling over the edge as your thighs quiver. You squeeze your eyes closed, his name tumbling from your lips as you ride out your orgasm. Once you’ve collected yourself, you finish your shower and slip your robe back on, wandering back to your room and slipping into your pajamas. 

You crawl into bed and close your eyes, making a pros and cons list in your head as you try to find sleep. Pros: hot guy, hot sex. Cons: getting caught, trying to focus in class, morality.

You scoff at the last one. Can you really say you have morality about this when the only thing you wanted in his office was for him to keep going, right there against the window? 

What’s the harm, you hear Rose say. Maybe she’s right, what harm could a little fun do?

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

You wake up to your alarm early Friday morning and immediately feel a tight knot in the pit of your stomach. You have to face Daniel again today and finally tell him your answer. You feel slightly giddy over the prospect of getting him alone again, though you do hope that he isn’t going to treat you any differently in class now. You’ll find out soon enough.

The first half of your morning goes by in the blink of an eye. Next thing you know, you’re on your way to the other side of campus for his class. Despite the nervous energy, you still managed to get your assigned reading done. You’re nothing if not committed to academic success, regardless of the situation with Daniel. 

Surprisingly, you rather enjoyed the assignment. Since you were taking the course as a core requirement and not as part of your major, you’d never studied art history before. The level of analysis behind different works of art and how they reflect the social and political climate at the time was fascinating to you. You were surprised by how it ended up connecting well with what you’ve learned in your philosophy classes before about politics, so the subject ended up coming rather easily to you.

You walk into the building and open the door to the lecture hall, thankfully not running late this time around. You have about five minutes to spare before the class begins, giving you a better choice of where to sit. You stand there at the top of the stairs for a moment, looking around for a good place to sit, not wanting to be too close or too far from the front. Finally, you decide to take a seat in the middle somewhere, hoping you might possibly be able to blend in with the rest of the crowd. 

As you bend over in your seat and take your notebook out of your bag, you start to hear the familiar sound of Daniel’s shoes descending the stairs. Here we go, you think, trying to prepare for the awkward class that’s ahead of you. You place your notebook on the small pull-out desk attached to your chair, then decide to suck it up and look up toward the front of the classroom.

You watch as he sits down at the desk and pulls his laptop out of his leather bag. He doesn’t look up once, focusing on connecting his computer to the projector screen and pulling up his presentation for the lecture. After the presentation pops up on the screen, he pushes his chair back and stands up, finally catching your gaze.

One corner of his mouth turns upward into a half-smirk as his eyes meet yours. He goes to push the rolled sleeves of his black button-down up a bit further on his arms, causing your eyes to drift downward. His biceps peak out of the bottom of his sleeve and you can see the muscles flex slightly as he adjusts the sleeves. You bite your lip almost out of instinct, leaning your arm on the desk and resting your chin on your hand. 

Figuring out that you’ve definitely been staring for too long, you look back up to see a full-on smirk across his face. When your eyes lock again, he shoots over a subtle wink before clearing his throat and getting on with the start of class. There’s a lot of chatter going on throughout the room, making it difficult for him to get their attention at first.

“Okay, everyone, settle down,” he says, projecting his voice loud enough to quiet down the room. “Let’s jump right into this first chapter, shall we?”

Daniel uses the remote in his hand to transition to the next slide of the presentation, which shows the first painting from the reading. He starts pacing around the room, walking over to stand on the first step of the stairs as he asks the class for their initial thoughts.

You take the opportunity to look at him closer, thanks to this new proximity. He paired his black shirt with dark gray slacks and his usual black shoes. Your eyes fall on the gold chain around his neck, wondering how much it might have cost, considering how high-quality it looks. He really knew how to put an outfit together, looking expensive yet casual all at the same time– yet another thing that made him annoyingly attractive. You’re still lost in thought when you suddenly hear your name being called, snapping you back into reality.

“Y/N? Are you still with us?” Daniel asks, standing with his arms crossed as he raises an eyebrow at you. You sit up straight in your sight, clearing your throat before answering.

“Oh, um, yes. I’m sorry,” you say, which comes across as almost a mumble.

“I was asking you about what you thought about Liberty Leading The People,” he says, leaning back against the side of the chair on the aisle across from you. “From last night’s reading, assuming that you’ve completed it.” His voice is very matter-of-fact, almost as though he’s catching you in a lie. You won’t give him the satisfaction of embarrassing you in front of the class, that’s for sure. 

“I did do the reading, professor,” you answer, your tone having a bit of a bite to it unintentionally as a result of your frustration. “And I thought that the painting was a perfect representation of the heart of the French Revolution. They united as one and fought together to take down their oppressive government.” The smug look on his face immediately disappears as you continue sharing your analysis with the class.

“Liberté, égalité, fraternité, or liberty, equality, fraternity– the phrase that would end up defining the entire future of the French Republic. It represents the foundation of democracy in France and how it united the entire country, despite their differences. The painting symbolizes these founding ideas of democracy and freedom, which we know is still a prevalent theme in France today.”

You finish speaking, looking up at him as you cross your arms over yourself in your seat, waiting for his response. He wanted to catch you unprepared, which he has failed to do. A small smirk starts to appear on his face as he turns around and walks back toward the front of the classroom, pressing the button on the remote to switch to the next slide.

“Very good analysis, Miss Y/L/N. Outstanding, actually,” he says after turning around to face the class. If he’s feeling embarrassed, then he certainly isn’t showing it, but you’re glad to have been able to put him in his place. He uses the small laser pointer on the remote to point to the short bulleted list on the slide as he starts his lecture on the painting.

You hate how much this act of academic praise satisfied you, especially coming from him. You think to yourself that you’d do anything to have it happen again— to be the one that he compliments in front of the entire class. Despite whatever your relationship with Daniel may be, the desire for your knowledge and thoughts to be appreciated and acknowledged by him was intense. You wanted to please him, in more ways than one.

The rest of the class goes smoothly, thankfully. He manages to leave you alone, choosing to call on different students as you discuss other Romanticism paintings from the reading assignment. His eyes drifted to you every once in a while, but you could tell he was pulling his gaze away almost immediately. You knew that he was trying to give you space, which you appreciated. Finally, he dismisses the class and everyone starts to pack up and leave the hall. You’re putting your things back in your bag as you hear him say your name.

“Y/N,” he says, looking up at you from behind his laptop while sitting at his desk. “Good job today.” 

You smile at him, picking up your bag and putting it on your back. “Thanks,” you say, approaching his desk at the front of the classroom. Most of the students have dispersed by now, besides a few stragglers. “Do you have time to talk, professor?” you continue, biting your lip afterward as you await his answer. You tried to sound as sweet as possible, knowing that it was unlikely for him to say no. 

He smirks, closing his laptop and slipping it into his bag. “Sure, Y/N,” he says, standing up and putting his bag on his shoulder. “Let’s go up to my office, yeah?” He then walks around the desk and begins up the stairs, with you following shortly after him.

As you walk behind him toward the elevator down the hall, you can’t help but notice how much confidence seems to pour out of him as he walks. It was like he owned the place, walking around as though it was second nature to him. You hate to admit how attractive it was, but it was undeniable.

He presses the “up” button for the elevator and you both stand there silently for a moment as you wait for it to arrive. Standing on his left with still a couple of feet between you, you turn your head to look at him. As his head turns to return your gaze, the elevator dings and the doors open.

He walks in first, pressing the button for the third floor and then stepping back as you both watch the doors close in front of you. When the elevator begins to rise, you’re taken aback by his lips crashing onto yours. His hands are planted firmly on your hips as he turns you slightly, putting your back against the wall of the elevator. Your hands begin to tangle in his hair as you feel his tongue collide with yours, making you whine quietly into his mouth. 

His lips turn upward into a smirk against yours at the sound of your pathetic noises, but you’re quickly taken out of it as you hear the elevator ding and immediately stop on the second floor. Shit. 

You scramble to get untangled from him, stepping a few feet away to the other side of the elevator. The doors begin to open and a professor steps in, seemingly going up to the third floor as well. The professor stands between the two of you as the doors begin to shut.

“Ah, Dr. Wagner!” he says, turning toward Daniel on his left. “Good seeing you! How’re your courses faring so far?” Daniel is calm and composed as he turns to his colleague with a grin and answers him. 

“Professor Thomson, it’s great to see you. It’s all going well, but it’s still early,” he jokes, making the professor let out a fit of loud laughter. You, on the other hand, are a total mess. The back of your hair has a slight bump from it being slammed against the wall and your cheeks have turned a deep shade of pink. You just try to avoid the interaction altogether and stare straight ahead until the elevator dings once more and the doors open to the third floor. 

The professor steps out first, bidding Daniel a farewell before turning off to the left corridor. Daniel walks out next, turning right and heading toward his office. You can’t help but feel a bit of deja vu as you follow him to his office. This time, however, you were feeling much more confident. You want to show him that you weren’t just a timid, innocent student like he might think you are.

He holds the door open for you and allows you to walk in past him before shutting the door behind you and locking it. You turn on your heels to face him and see his eyes boring through you– you suppose your moment in the elevator affected him more than he let on. Daniel takes a step toward you, leaving only less than a foot of space between you as his eyes study you. The feeling of him looking at you like that almost takes over you and before you even know you’re doing it, you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him close to you, connecting your lips with his.

He groans into your mouth as your hands find their place within his curls and you push his back against the office door. His arms wrap around your waist and his hips connect with yours, bringing his hard, long cock to your immediate attention. Your hands leave his hair and travel down his chest, finally planting on his hips as you slowly lower yourself onto your knees– a position that both you and him were already familiar with.

You look at him through your eyelashes as your hands start to fiddle with his belt, pulling the end through the loop and unclasping it. “Fuck, I could get used to this,” he mutters, reaching a hand down to push some of your hair out of your face. You continue, pulling down his zipper and unbuttoning the top button of his slacks. He helps you the rest of the way, pulling down his pants and briefs just enough for you to be able to pull his cock out of its confines and take it in your hand.

You pump your hand on it a few times before lowering your mouth onto him, licking a small stripe on his tip. He groans, throwing his head back onto the door and using his hand to hold your hair back out of your face. Thoroughly enjoying the effect you seemed to have on him, you decide to take him completely into your mouth until your nose connects with the smooth material of his shirt resting on his stomach, taking him completely by surprise. 

“Oh my– fuck!” Daniel mumbles, struggling to even get any words out. His hips thrust into your mouth roughly at the sensation of filling your mouth completely, hitting the back of your throat. You begin to move, taking the lead as you retract your mouth slowly and then push him back down your throat. 

The sounds coming out of his mouth as you set a steady pace is enough to get you close to release just by hearing it. You swirl your tongue around his tip and then take him completely into the back of your throat again, gagging around him slightly. As you start to pick up your pace, his hands are pulling your hair back, yanking you off of him. He tucks himself back into his boxer briefs quickly, then brings you up on your feet and his hands cup your cheeks, keeping your attention on him.

“If you keep doing all that, this is gonna end before we even get started, baby…” he says sternly, starting to place hot, wet kisses along your jawline and then down the side of your neck as he pushes you back further into the room. The backs of your legs hit his desk and your hands grip the edge, bracing yourself. “We can’t have that, can we?” 

Daniel continues his attack on your neck, beginning to suck on a sweet spot on your bare collarbone. The feelings are taking over all of your senses, overwhelming you so much that all you can muster up is an enthusiastic nod. He pulls his lips off of you, straightening his back as he towers over you, placing his hand on the back of your neck firmly.

“Words, sweetheart,” he says, scolding you. “You’re a big girl. Act like one.” Your eyes widen at his words, though you have to admit that it has you completely dripping wet.

“No, sir. We can’t,” you answer. His lips turn upward into a slight smirk as his hand moves from behind your neck toward the front. His thumb strokes your neck softly before his hand tightens a bit. “Good girl.”

His lips connect with yours once more and you moan into his mouth as his hand tightens a bit more around your throat. His other hand moves up your side to cup your breast, snug inside your tight ribbed tank top. He makes quick work of that, reaching into your shirt and squeezing your breast, then rolling your nipple in his fingers. You whine at the sensation, making him smirk against your lips. 

“Yeah, you like that?” he asks, pulling his face back a bit, rubbing his nose against yours as his fingers pinch your nipple again, eliciting another moan from you. “Yes, sir, feels so so good,” you whine, as he places a few soft kisses along your jaw.

Suddenly, he spins you around and pulls you against him, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he presses his lips against the shell of your ear. “I’ve thought about doing this again ever since you walked out of that bathroom,” he mumbles, kissing your neck roughly. His hips buck into your ass as you brace your palms against the wooden desk to keep your legs from crumbling beneath you. “Fuck, so have I,” you utter, leaning your head back against his shoulder. 

One of his hands moves from your waist and pushes your back down so that you’re bent over the front of his desk. He lowers his mouth to your ear briefly and whispers, “I’m not gonna be gentle… okay, sweetheart?” You let out a soft moan as his hips press into your ass and you feel his hot breath against your ear. “I don’t want you to be gentle,” you say. He smiles as he places a soft kiss on the shell of your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You whine at the sudden loss of his body against yours as he backs away from you. But that feeling soon changes as you feel his hands back on your waist and his fingers dip into the waistline of your leggings. He bends down and pulls them down over your ass, letting them sit at your ankles. You hear him groan and curse to himself when he sees that you decided to forgo any underwear, since you typically liked to avoid unflattering underwear lines when wearing tight pants like leggings. 

His large hands grip your ass firmly, pulling your cheeks apart as he takes in the view. He starts gliding his fingers through your wetness with one hand as the other comes down and smacks your ass, hard. You bite your lip to stifle the loud moan that almost escapes your mouth, being mindful of the need to keep the noise down considering the location. He places a kiss on the spot on your asscheek, soothing the stinging sensation. 

He stands up and pulls his briefs back down, taking his cock in his hands and pumping it a few times before towering behind you once again. He brings his mouth back down to your ear as his hips buck into yours and you can feel his painfully hard cock against your ass behind you. “You asked for it.”

Daniel lines himself up with you and pushes himself into you fully. You can feel yourself stretch around him, the sting of it feeling almost welcoming. He grips your waist in one hand as the other holds firm against the small of your back, keeping you still on the desk as he sets a relentless pace inside of you. 

The movement of his hips is quick and harsh, the only sound in the room being the sound of his hips smacking against your ass, loud and wet. He’s hitting your cervix repeatedly, and you start to have no control over the noises you make. His hips slam hard into you, causing you to curse loudly. His hand moves from the small of your back to the back of your neck and pushes your head down, making you have to turn it sideways with your cheek flush against the wood. His hand then slides over to cover your mouth, pushing two of his fingers past your lips.

“As much as I love those sweet sounds, you gotta keep it down, baby…” he says as he slams his hips into you again. You groan around his fingers and catch his eye from behind you, seeing a smug smirk across his face. You suck on his fingers as he continues his quick pace inside you and your walls flutter against him, eliciting a moan from him as well. “Goddamn, you are so fucking tight,” he groans, removing his hand from your mouth and moving it to grip your hair tightly, pulling you up from the desk as he slides out of you. 

He turns you around and captures your lips for a moment before pulling away. You watch as he quickly rids himself of his pants and boxers entirely, dropping them on the floor and then stepping out of them. He lowers himself to remove your pants from around your ankles then attaches his lips to yours again. His hands grasp your ass and lift you up, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you over to the far left wall of the office, directly in front of the window. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck as his lips stay attached to yours and he places your back against the wall.

You have half a mind to get self-conscious about the proximity to the window but you’re too intoxicated by his touch to care. With your back now flush with the wall, he lifts you up for a moment then pushes himself back inside of you and picks back up on his relentless pace. 

His hands grip your ass so tight that you’re sure it’ll leave a mark come tomorrow. You’re genuinely surprised by the strength he must have to be able to hold you up as he fucks into you, which makes your head spin. His lips leave yours and work their way down your neck. When they reach your chest, he halts his hips to bring one of his hands up to pull your breasts from your shirt and bra, allowing them to spill out of the top of your tank top and giving him full access.

“Fuck, what are you doing to me…” he mutters, holding onto you tightly as he starts pounding into you again even harsher. His lips wrap around one of your nipples, sucking and biting on your skin and completely taking you over the edge. You can feel yourself getting close as his hips slam up into you, his tip hitting your sweet spot over and over again from this new angle. He can feel you tightening around him, making him groan against your skin. 

“Come on, baby. Make a mess all over my cock, I’m right there,” he urges, attaching his lips to yours again as one of his hands moves from your ass and slips between you, starting to rub quick, rough circles against your clit. It sends you over the edge and Daniel swallows your moan in his mouth as his tongue collides with yours. 

He fucks you through it, his pace never slowing as he reaches his own climax shortly after you. He moans against your tongue as you feel his release coat your walls. His hips start to slow, fucking his release into you before lowering your legs to the ground and pulling out, allowing you to stand. Your knees buckle as you get your bearings, but you quickly recover and wrap your arms around his waist pulling him in for a short, soft kiss.

“I guess I got my answer then, huh?” he jests, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he looks down at you with a smug smile. “You’re such an idiot,” you laugh, shoving his shoulder softly, walking past him to pick up your leggings, then sliding them back on. He follows, pulling his briefs up over his hips and then picking his pants up off the floor. As he pulls his pants on and starts to fasten his belt, you decide to speak first.

“I want to do this with you. I do. But we have to set some ground rules,” you say, leaning against his desk and looking up at him. He raises his eyebrows at you as he tucks his shirt back into his pants and then walks toward you.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” he asks, cupping your cheek with his hand and rubbing his thumb softly against your skin. You almost melt into his touch, but you want to stand your ground before you get too soft on him.

“Well,” you start, “First of all, this should be no strings attached– purely physical. I’m not gonna be your girlfriend.” He chuckles to himself before crossing his arms and leaning against the chair next to him. “Who said I wanted you to be my girlfriend?”

“Shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. He laughs again, then answers, “Okay, okay. No strings attached. Shouldn’t be a problem. What else?”

“No telling anyone, besides people who already know. My best friend knew about you immediately after we left the bar last weekend, so it’s too late now,” you continue. He hums and nods his head. “Mine too. Can’t hide shit from Sam even if I tried.”

“Okay, so we keep it a secret. No one else has to know,” you assert. He stands up and puts his arms on either side of you, leaning onto the desk behind you. 

“Okay. One more thing,” he says, towering over you. “No falling in love.” You take a deep breath just at the thought of it– falling in love. Yeah, right. As you look up to meet his gaze, you smile softly and nod. “No falling in love.” 

After a few more minutes of sharing kisses and continuously attempting to say goodbye, you finally peel yourself away from Daniel and leave his office, heading out of the building and walking in the direction of home. You can’t help how flustered you feel after leaving him, almost not even believing that it even happened. You exchanged numbers before you left, promising to see each other again soon.

You’re feeling anxiously excited to fill Rose in on today’s events when you get home. There were a lot of details that you fear you may need to leave out, things that were too vulgar to even speak out loud. This idea makes your cheeks flush as you think about it on the walk home. You know that you’re way in over your head but hopefully, with the boundaries you’ve set, you won’t get caught up in it all too intensely. As long as you both follow the rules, no one will get hurt… Right?

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

chapter iii

Thank you for reading!! Leave a reply if you want to be added to the taglist!

Taglist:

@peaceloveunitygvf @mackalah @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @spark-my-nature @dannys-dream @violetstarcatcher @demonrat444 @heheheheheheheurmum @theres-a-tvjoe @bladenotblaze @gardensgatekeeper @gretavanomens @whimsiliz

[legitalicat]

Player 3 Found (mixed media AU) - part 3, Aemond 1

AN: This series tickles a special part of my brain, thank you guys for loving it! This is a standard form fic entry into the series, the first!

Series Masterlist here!

Summary: A video call with Aemond.

CW: Flirting, language, talks of previous infidelity, slightly dirty flirting?

Word Count: 1.2k

Previous part Next Chapter

You got on the call with Aemond precisely on time, and he was already well invested in the game that he was playing. You were his only audience, but that didn’t seem to matter. His two screens showed different view points entirely.

As he played Elden Ring, his character was flawless. There was no hesitation in his attacks or jerking of his movements. He played as he did on streams, with a level of control you were in awe of.

But on the screen that showed his camera view? You noticed how, when you joined in, he immediately looked over, doing four takes to make sure it was really you. You couldn’t help but notice the little smile that spread across his face. It softened the angles of it, making him feel less intimidating.

“Evenin’ gorgeous,” he said. This was your fourth call with him in as many days, and you had been messaging him near constantly. Even so, you felt your nerves cause your mouth to run dry.

Right now he was on a trip, which you had thought would make it harder for him to message you. But he almost always answered within minutes. You wondered at times if he ever actually slept, or if he just was still running on Westeros time. It was almost godlike, the way he seemed to be functioning better than anyone you had met when you weren’t even sure he was functioning on all cylinders.

“Is it even evening in New York right now?” you asked him, chuckling.

“No, but evenin’ gorgeous sounds so much better than the alternatives,” he told you.

“Okay, it does sound pretty good, but so does good morning beautiful,” you told him.

A smirk played on his lips as he gave you another glance. You noticed the camera was on his right side, as it always was. One day you would have to ask him about it.

He was about to say something when a large of horde of putrid corpses surrounded his character. He managed to fight a few of them off easily. Slowly he started to get overwhelmed as they seemed endless.

“Oh suck my cock,” he muttered to them. His lips wrapped around the word cock almost sinfully.

You let out some sort of noise before turning away from your whole computer in embarrassment. While you prayed to the gods that it wasn’t a moan like you feared it was, you missed the way Aemond shifted. His ears had noticeably perked up, his lips once again quirking into a smirk. When you looked back to his screen, though, he was as he was as focused as he was before you turned away.

“I missed your pretty face today,” he told you.

“Lucky for you, I missed you too. Thought of you all day in fact,” you told him, smirking as his ears went a bit pink.

This was just the way of you two. From your very first call, he flirted with you. And you flirted back. It was easier that way, you thought, than to constantly remind yourself of the mess that was your life.

You were recently single after an eight year long relationship with Erik Martell. You had been together since before you began your career. You were high school sweethearts. You thought he would be who you married, going so far as to buy a house together. Well, you bought the house, saying it was the least you could after how supportive he had been through your humble beginnings of streaming to two people to being an internationally known gamer in league with people like Markiplier.

You had thought, anyways.

Turns out, he was using his adjacency to your popularity to find girls to cheat on you with. It was only by chance that you had found this out. You had come home a few weeks ago, early, after a convention you had been invited to attend. He had spared you the cliché of walking in on him in the throws of passion, instead giving you the entirely unexpected experience of running into him while he was on a date with someone else when you had stopped to pick up take out.

You parted ways that night, and he was out of the house the next morning. You had slowed down your streams since, only really picking them back up in the last week or so. You didn’t think you were ready to put eight years behind you.

And then you actually started talking to Aemond. You knew a fair bit about him, having followed him a few years ago, and then later following his nephew Jacaerys who he would collab with at times. You knew he came from a really well off family, so typically any proceeds made from either of them went to some charity or another.

What you hadn’t known was that you would click with him so effortlessly. You hadn’t known that you could spend hours upon hours just sitting in a call with him, talking or gaming, sometimes both, sometimes neither. You hadn’t known you would become so enticed by him.

So, you let the flirting continue. It was all in good fun, you thought. It didn’t need to be more.

“You’re thinking awfully hard over there baby girl,” he said to you. You certainly wouldn’t put that to an end.

You smiled up at him, giggling at his words. You enjoyed him.

“Just missed you today, Aemmy,” you told him. “You make the days a little easier right now.”

Given your popularity, you knew your break up wasn’t exactly private news. You were aware of how many online publications covered it. Aemond had made sure to never bring it up. He kept it light between you both, offering your heart a much needed reprieve.

He logged out of the game a few moments later before turning his full attention to you. You then realized why he kept the camera to one side, even if you didn’t quite understand. He was shockingly handsome in his entirety, even with the scar through his left, obviously blind, eye. You imagined he was insecure about it, but you couldn’t imagine disliking anything about him.

He noticed you looking at him, staring. You saw his cheeks begin to flush pink again. You started to try to stammer out an apology. You wanted him to realize this didn’t change your desire to have him in your life.

“No, it takes everyone a moment first time they see it. It’s okay,” he told you. “Got into an accident when I was a kid. Fell down the stairs, fell through a window and wound up with a glass shard in my face. Was able to keep the eye, but I am completely blind in it.”

You simply nodded and bit your lip. You appreciated the way he explained himself even though it wasn’t at all necessary. You just wanted to admire him every moment.

“You’re beautiful, baby girl,” he told you.

“ You’re a flirt,” you told him, smirking.

“Gods, the things you could make me do,” he said softly. It was mostly to himself. But you knew he liked watching the way a shiver made its way through your body.

“I’m going to get on and play Stardew, wanna watch?” you asked him as you began to fire up your favorite game.

“Of course, baby girl,” he said, smiling as he grabbed his laptop and settling further into the bed.

><><><><><><><><><><><><

Taglist: @zaldritzosrose @lady-phasma @fan-goddess

[splendidlyinlove]

O’Knutzy Week Day 1!!!!!

I’m not late because I said so also time is a concept. A huge thank you to @oknutzyweek2023 for organizing this fest and to the lovely @lumosinlove for the creation of these characters!!! 

Day 1 Prompt: Smile 

CW for mentions of food/drink and depictions of internalized homophobia/negative self talk

When Logan was four years old smiles were as simple as breathing. He was all scraped knees and grubby fingers, trailing behind his three (which comes after two and before five…he thinks) older sisters. All he knew was dress up and pirates and that was enough for him.  

He had lost his first tooth last Tuesday, La Petite Souris had reimbursed him kindly with several shiny new coins. He had run down the stairs with them clasped in his hand and shouted “Look!” at his maman. His cheeks were round and rosy, indents from the pillowcase still stretching across them, and smiling so hard it almost hurt. There was still blue on his lips from where he had accidentally drawn on his mouth with a marker while rubbing his eye and his mouth made a faint whistling sound when he exhaled through his teeth. His maman smiled back. And that was how life worked at four. 

Smiling was a language like French or English. On humid summer days in France, he and his sisters would sit on sticky hardwood floors and sound out vowels through box fans. The giggles and smiles were I love yous, just with fewer syllables. His sisters forced him into dresses and called him gross, but it was okay. They smiled at him like he was theirs forever and he trusted them enough to know it was true. 

Smiles were opening presents on Christmas and jumping through the sprinkler outside. They were storytime and birthday cakes and good night kisses. They were stitched onto his favorite stuffed animals and frozen in time in pictures covering the wall on their stairway. 

One time he snuck out of bed to sit on the stairs and watch TV through the railing over the backs of his parents’ heads. The man on the TV looked sad and said a lot of big words. He didn’t smile much, he said something about life not making sense. Logan didn’t understand that. Living was about love and love was where home was and home was where he smiled most. 

There was a creak from behind him and when he turned around he saw Noelle smiling while holding her finger up to her mouth with a silent shh. Logan smiled back when she sat down next to him. Yeah, it all seemed pretty simple to him. 

___

At thirteen years old the world was not simple. It was messy and confusing, it was like someone had paint splattered across walls and asked him what the shapes spelled out. Logan didn't know, and they would smile. But not the smiles that he was used to, no, smiles were different now. 

Smiles could be sharp, pointed weapons. Looks shared between boys with letterman jackets across the halls, the ringing laughter after a slam against lockers. Dirty jokes, ego, us vs. them politics, mental gymnastics, I know you are but what am I?, thinly veiled insults, banter, and “locker room talk.” 

There was a sense of panic building up inside Logan that he couldn’t pinpoint. He smiled along, though he could feel it not reaching his eyes. Did they see it not reaching his eyes? Is his hair weird? His shirt feels too small, why’d he wear this today? Purple is a stupid color. Stupid. This is stupid. He’s stupid. 

He walked into his algebra class and sat down next to some boy he didn't recognize with a huff. 

“Bad day?” 

Logan’s head snapped to look at him. “Huh?” 

“I was just wondering if you were okay. You seem…grumpy.” 

And then the boy smiled at him. He smiled. 

His eyes crinkled up at the corners and the freckles on his cheeks stretched out. There was a light that seemed to shine outwards from his irises, his hair looked soft and his jaw was somewhere between round and angular. Logan wanted to reach out and touch, and why did his stomach feel like-? 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Smiles always had teeth, but they had never bitten until then. Logan didn't smile back, he clenched the feeling between his fists and made it as small as it could be. 

___

Finn was something impossible. He was a broken clock right three times a day, a city with no people, lightning in a bottle, a tsunami with no casualties, dressed in socks with Adidas slides and brown eyes that felt like a sacrament.  

He gave smiles away like old furniture. Here, you’ll get more use out of this than I will. He was unguarded and open and free and if Logan was honest Finn terrified him. Finn was the sun. Logan could already feel his eyes burning, he really should look away, but oh, didn’t it feel so good to be warm?  

Logan was cool green stares with walls miles high surrounding them. But, Finn was well equipped with inside jokes, memorized coffee orders, delirious late nights, no-look passes, adrenaline highs, and shared greasy breakfasts. Finn poked and prodded at the hard shell Logan had so carefully put together over four years. Slowly, piece by piece it wore down, floating like wilted flower petals to the floor. Logan could feel himself loosen, feel the tense muscles relax, his fists unclench. 

At seventeen, inside a rundown frat house, in their messy, poorly decorated room, Logan couldn't help himself. He smiled, but he swore it didn't mean I love you. It didn’t.  

___

Leo was simple. He was like thunder after lightning and the rainbow after a storm. He made sense, slotted into place like he always belonged. He was loud sort of quiet, he had a presence about him that you didn't realize how much room it encompassed until it wasn’t there. 

Leo let Logan talk. Just talk. And the best part is he would listen. Logan felt heard when Leo was around, Finn listened too but sometimes he didn’t understand. Maybe it was because, for Logan, English never seemed to be a good medium for explanation, it always seemed one size too small. Leo understood, though, both in English and French. Leo could read between the lines, sometimes Logan didn't have to say anything at all. And that, that was ecstasy in itself. Logan could get so tired of explaining, sometimes he just wanted to be. 

If Finn was the sun and Logan was the moon, then Leo was the night sky. Vast and all-consuming in a quiet sort of way, comforting like a blanket, pretty to look at. God, was he pretty to look at. 

In a hotel room in a city that Logan had visited several times but never got to know, Leo answered a knock on the door and brought in a tray. He picked a mug up off of it and handed it to Logan. 

“Here, I got you some mint tea.” 

Logan smiled. He couldn’t lie to himself this time, he knew it meant I love you. And didn’t that just make it all the more tragic? 

___

Smiles weren’t as simple as breathing, they were as simple as atoms. They made up everything around Logan and were everywhere. Logan would wake up and smile, eat breakfast and smile, pay taxes and smile. He would stay up late in the night with Leo, fighting with insomnia together and he would wake up sleep deprived and the happiest he's ever been.  Finn would come home from a run sweaty and hug him and it would be gross, and disgusting, and really, Logan should be screaming in terror but, against all odds there he was smiling. 

It was convoluted, but then again, it was the most understandable thing to ever happen. He was right when he was four, smiles meant I love you and there was so much love to give. In the dead of night, in the blazing afternoon, love was exchanged like playground, pinky-swear promises. Logan would keep every one. 

He had been planning it for months, he nearly wore a hole in the rug from the pacing back and forth. He sat in front of them on a blanket in the middle of a field and pushed two small velvet boxes toward each of them, along with letters that bared his soul. He had opted for letters instead of some big speech, he was terrified of not getting the words out right and of switching to French halfway through. Words had always been Finn’s department anyway. 

They both looked back up at him with tears in their eyes.

Logan smiled and said, “I love you.” 

They knew, of course they knew. Logan said it out loud anyway. 

___

The wedding was a summer affair, chairs were set outside by a big tree. Finn had put on sunscreen in preparation. 

“This is a setup” he had said. Logan and Leo had laughed so hard that they almost fell off the bed. 

“I don’t see what’s so funny about it.” It would have sounded serious if Finn wasn’t smiling, and he was smiling. 

After a coughing fit Leo gathered himself enough to say, “You don’t want to marry us outside, Finn?” 

Finn paused at that. He was still smiling but it changed into something soft yet sure, like faith. 

“I’d marry you anywhere and nowhere at all.” 

So it was settled. The wedding would be outside, and if Finn had more freckles on his nose during their honeymoon, it would be a burden Logan and Leo would gladly carry. However, the sunscreen turned out to be unnecessary. Dark clouds had rolled in and rain trickled down around them. 

It was perfect, unexpected, but perfect. Like a child, they loved the moment anyway. There was no world where it could be bad, because it was theirs, and it was them, and they were together, and wouldn’t that always be beautiful? 

They got married in the rain with wet hair in front of all of their friends and family. Their smiles said I do well before their mouths did, and though Leo and Logan would miss Finn’s extra freckles, it was a small sacrifice. 

___

The hospital room was white and smelled sterile. It was much different from the shade of pink that the guest bedroom in their house had been painted. 

Daughter. 

You’re having a daughter. 

Logan had been drowning in shades of pink for four months and he never wanted it to stop. He wanted tea parties, and race cars, and doll houses, and dress up, and pirates, and math homework, and sleepless nights, and play pretend. He wanted it all. He put all of his excited energy into planning the nursery and buying toys. Now, sitting between Finn and Leo in hospital room chairs, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He bounced his leg up and down and tapped his fingers on the armrest, Finn and Leo had grabbed his hands several times to get him to stop. 

Time seemed to stop when the door opened. A nurse walked in holding a bundle of blankets. 

“You ready to hold your baby girl?” 

Before Logan could process, the baby was placed into his arms. She was the tiniest thing he’d ever seen, with a button nose and round cheeks. She fussed a bit, her arms wiggling and feet kicking, and for a moment her eyes opened the smallest amount. 

Two pairs of green eyes met.

And Logan cried.

But mostly he just smiled. 

[oliviabutsmart]

Physics Friday #5: The Wonderful World of Programming Paradigms

Welcome to the first actual post on the dedicated blog! This will be continuing on from what I started over on my main account @oliviax727. But don't worry, I'll still repost this post over there.

Preamble: Wait! I thought this was Physics!

Education level: Primary School (Y5/6)

Topic: Computer Languages (Comp Sci)

So you may be thinking how this is relevant to physics, well it's not. But really, other adjacent fields: computer science, chemistry, science history, mathematics etc. Are really important to physics! The skills inform and help physicists make informed decisions on how to analyse theoretical frameworks, or to how physics can help inform other sciences.

I may do a bigger picture post relating to each science or the ways in which we marry different subjects to eachother, but what is important is that some knowledge of computer science is important when learning physics, or that you're bound to learn some CS along the way.

Also I can do what I want, bitch.

Introduction: What is a Programming Language?

You may have come across the term 'programming paradigm' - especially in computer science/software engineering classes. But what is a programming paradigm really?

Computers are very powerful things, and they can do quite a lot. Computers are also really dumb. They can't do anything unless if we tell them what to do.

So until our Sky-net machine overlords take control and start time-travelling to the past, we need to come up with ways to tell them how to do things.

Pure computer speak is in electrical signals corresponding to on and off. Whereas human speak is full of sounds and text.

It is possible for either one to understand the other (humans can pump electrical signals into a device and computers can language model). But we clearly need something better.

This is where a programming language comes in. It's basically a language that both the computer and the human understands. So we need a common language to talk to them.

It's like having two people. One speaks Mandarin, the other speaks English. So instead of making one person learn the other's language, we create a common language that the two of them can speak. This common language is a synthesis of both base languages.

But once we have an idea of how to communicate with the computer, we need to consider how we're going to talk to it:

How are we going to tell it to do things?

What are we going to ask it to do?

How will we organise and structure our common language?

This is where a programming paradigm comes in - a paradigm is a set of ideas surrounding how we should communicate with a device. It's really something that can truly only be understood by showing examples of paradigms.

Imperative vs. Declarative

The main two paradigms, or really categories of paradigms, are the imperative vs. declarative paradigm.

Imperative programming languages are quite simple: code is simply a set of instructions meant to tell the computer specifically what to do. It is about process, a series of steps the computer can follow to get some result.

Declarative programming languages are a bit more vapid: code is about getting what you want. It's less about how you get there and more about what you want at the end.

As you can see imperative programs tell the computer how to do something whereas declarative programs are about what you want out.

Here's an example of how an imperative language may find a specific name in a table of company data:

GET tableOfEmployees; GET nameToFind SET i = 0; WHILE i < tableOfEmployees.length: IF tableOfEmployees[i].firstName == nameToFind THEN: RETURN tableOfEmployees[i] AND i; ELSE: i = i + 1; RETURN "employee does not exist";

And here's that same attempt but in a declarative language:

FROM tableOfEmployees SELECT * WHERE firstName == INPUT(1);

Note that these languages aren't necessarily real languages, just based on real-life ones. Also please ignore the fact I used arrays of structures and databases in exactly the same way.

We can see the difference between the two paradigms a lot more clearly now. In the imperative paradigm, every step is laid out clear as day. "Add one to this number, check if this number is equal to that one".

Under the declarative paradigm, not only is the text shorter, we also put all of the instructions about how to do a task under the rug, we only care about what we want.

With all this, we can see an emerging spectrum of computer paradigms. From languages that are more computer-like, to languages that are more English-like. This is the programming languages' level:

Lower level languages are more likely to be imperative, as the fundamental construction of the computer relies on a series of instructions to be executed in order.

The lowest level, the series of electrical signals and circuitry called microcode is purely imperative in a sense, as everything is an instruction. Nothing is abstracted and everything is reduced to it's individual components.

The highest level, is effectively English. It's nothing but "I want this", "I'd like that". All of the processes involved are abstracted in favour of just the goal. It is all declarative.

In the middle we have most programming languages, what's known as the "high level languages". They are the best balance of abstraction of reduction, based on what you need to use the language for.

It's important that we also notice that increasingly higher-level and increasingly more declarative the language gets, the more specific the purpose of the language becomes.

Microcode and machine code can be used for effectively any purpose, they are the jack-of-all trades. Whereas something like SQL is really good at databases, but I wouldn't use it for game design.

As long as a language is Turing-complete, it can do anything any computer can do, what's important is how easy it is to program the diverse range of use-cases. Assembly can do literally anything, but it's an effort to program. Python can do the same, but it's an effort to run.

Imperative Paradigms: From the Transistor to the Website

As mentioned previously, the imperative paradigm is less a stand-alone paradigm but a group of paradigms. Much like how the UK is a country, but is also a collection of countries.

There are many ways in order to design imperative languages, for example, a simple imperative language from the 80's may look a lot like assembly:

... ADD r1, 1011 JMZ F313, r1

The last statement JMZ, corresponds to a "Jump to the instruction located at A if the value located at B is equal to zero" what it's effectively saying is a "Repeat step 4" or "Go to question 5" type of thing.

Also known as goto statements, these things are incredibly practical for computers, because all it requires is moving some electrical signals around the Registers/RAM.

But what goto statement is used as in code, is really just a glorified "if x then y". Additionally, these statements get really irritating when you want to repeat or recurse over instructions multiple times.

The Structured Paradigm

Thus we introduce the structured paradigm, which simply allows for control structures. A control structure is something that, controls the flow of the programs' instructions.

Control structures come in many forms:

Conditionals (If X then do Y otherwise do Z)

Multi-selects (If X1 then do Y1, if X2 then do Y2 ...)

Post-checked loops (Do X until Y happens)

Pre-checked loops (While Y, do X)

Counted Loops (For i = A to B do X)

Mapped Loops (For each X in Y, do Z)

These control structures are extra useful, as they have the added benefit of not having to specify what line you have to jump to every time you update previous instructions. They may also include more "safe" structures like the counted or mapped loop, which only executes a set amount of time.

But we still have an issue: all our code is stuffed into one file and it's everywhere, we have no way to seperate instructions into their own little components that we might want to execute multiple times. Currently, out only solution is to either nest things in far too many statements or use goto statements.

The Procedural Paradigm

What helps is the use of a procedure. Procedures are little blocks of code that can be called as many times as needed. They can often take many other names: commands, functions, processes, branches, methods, routines, subroutines, etc.

Procedures help to organise code for both repeated use and also it makes it easier to read. We can set an operating standard of "one task per subroutine" to help compartmentalise code.

Object-Oriented Code

Most of these basic programming languages, especially the more basic ones, include the use of data structures. Blocks of information that holds multiple types of information:

STRUCT Person: Name: String Age: Integer Phone: String Gender: String IsAlive: Boolean

But these structures often feel a bit empty. After all, we may want to have a specific process associated uniquely with that person.

We want to compartmentalise certain procedures and intrinsically tie them to an associated structure, preventing their use from other areas of the code.

Like "ChangeGender" is something we might not want to apply to something that doesn't have a gender, like a table.

We may also want to have structures that are similar to 'Person' but have a few extra properties like "Adult" may have a bank account or something.

What we're thinking of doing is constructing an object, a collection of BOTH attributes (variables) AND methods (procedures) associated with the object. We can also create new objects which inherit the properties of others.

Object oriented programming has been the industry standard for decades now, and it's incredibly clear as to why - it's rather useful! But as time marches forward, we've seen the popularisation of a new paradigm worthy of rivaling this one ...

Declarative Paradigms: The World of Logic

Declarative languages certainly help abstract a lot of information, but that's not always the case, sometimes the most well known declarative languages are very similar feature-wise to imperative paradigms. It's just a slight difference in focus which is important.

Functional Programming Languages

Whereas the object oriented language treats everything, or most things, like objects. A functional language uses functions as it's fundamental building block.

Functional languages rely on the operation of, well, functions. But functions of a specific kind - pure functions. A pure function is simply something that doesn't affect other parts of the computer outside of specifically itself.

A pure function is effectively read-only in it's operation - strictly read-only. The most practical-for-common-use functional languages often allow for a mixture of pure and impure functions.

A functional language is declarative because of the nature of a function - the process of how things work are abstracted away for a simple input -> output model. And with functional purity, you don't have to worry about if what takes the input to the output also affects other things on the computer.

Functional languages have been around for quite a while, however they've been relegated to the world of academia. Languages like Haskell and Lisp are, like most declarative languages, very restrictive in their general application. However in recent years, the use of functional programming has come quite common.

I may make a more opinionated piece in the future on the merits of combining both functional and object-oriented languages, and also a seperate my opinions on a particular functional language Haskell - which I have some contentions with.

Facts and Logic

The logic paradigm is another special mention of declarative languages, they focus on setting a series of facts (i.e. true statements):

[Billy] is a [Person]

Rules (i.e. true statements with generality):

If [A] is [Person] then [A] has a [Brain]

And Queries:

Does [Billy] have a [Brain]?

Logical languages have a lot more of a specific purpose, meant for, well, deductive/abductive logical modelling.

We can also use what's known as Fuzzy logic which is even more higher-level, relying on logic that is inductive or probabilistic, i.e. conclusions don't necessarily follow from the statements.

Visual and Documentation Languages

At some point, we start getting so high level, that the very components of the language start turning into something else.

You may have used a visual language before, for example, Scratch. Scratch is a declarative language that abstracts away instructions in-favour of visual blocks that represent certain tasks a computer can carry out.

Documentation languages like HTML, Markdown, CSS, XML, YML, etc. Are languages that can barely even be considered programming languages. Instead, they are methods of editing documents and storing text-based data.

Languages that don't even compile (without any significant effort)

At some point, we reach a point where languages don't even compile necessarily.

A metalanguage, is a language that describes language. Like EBNF, which is meant to describe the syntaxing and lexical structures of lower-level languages. Metalanguages can actually compile, and are often used in code editors for grammar checking.

Pseudocode can often be described as either imperative or declarative, focused on emulating programs in words. What you saw in previous sections are pseudocode.

Diagrams fall in this category too, as they describe the operation of a computer program without actually being used to run a computer.

Eventually we reach the point where what were doing is effectively giving instructions or requesting things in English. For this, we require AI modelling for a computer to even begin to interpret what we want it to interpret.

Esoteric Paradigms

Some paradigms happen to not really fall in this range form low to high level. Because they either don't apply to digital computing or exist in the purely theoretical realm.

Languages at the boundaries of the scale can fall into these classes, as microcode isn't really a language if it's all physical. And pseudocode isn't really a language if it doesn't even compile.

There are also the real theoretical models like automata and Turing machine code, which corresponds to simplified, idealised, and hypothetical machines that operate in ways analogous to computers.

Shells and commands also exist in this weird zone. Languages like bash, zsh, or powershell which operate as a set of command instructions you feed the computer to do specific things. They exist in the region blurred between imperative and declarative at the dead centre of the scale. But often their purpose is more used as a means to control a computer's operating system than anything else.

Lastly, we have the languages which don't fit in our neat diagram because they don't use digital computers in a traditional manner. These languages often take hold of the frontiers of computation:

Parallel Computing

Analog Computing

Quantum Computing

Mechanical Computing

Conclusion

In summary, there's a lot of different ways you can talk to computers! A very diverse range of paradigms and levels that operate in their own unique ways. Of course, I only covered the main paradigms, the ones most programmers are experienced in. And I barely scratched the surface of even the most popular paradigms.

Regardless, this write-up was long as well. I really wish I could find a way to shorten these posts without removing information I want to include. I guess that just comes with time. This is the first computer science based topic. Of course, like any programmer, I have strong opinions over the benefits of certain paradigms and languages. So hopefully I didn't let opinions get in the way of explanations.

Feedback is absolutely appreciated! And please, if you like what you see, consider following either @oliviabutsmart or @oliviax727!

Next week, I'll finish off our three-part series on dark matter and dark energy with a discussion of what dark energy does, and what we think it is made of!

[darkwood-sleddog]

I just watched some of your bikejoring (?) videos, and I was wondering if you could talk a little about the commands/instructions you're giving them? I know absolutely nothing about dog sports, but they're really cool to watch!

I scooterjor (it's like a large, beefed out razor scooter, but for dogs) when there's two dogs in the video dryland and I'm on a steel cart when there are 3 dogs. When we have enough snow, we're always on a sled!

I use traditional english language mushing commands which are taken from horse driving, since this was the closest context to animal directional commands white colonizers (often missionaries...) had when first coming across dog sledding in the Americas. Traditional Indigenous practices typically still use their own languages.

What I use:

-Hike: meaning "go" (although I rarely if ever have to use this command, they will go regardless)

-Gee: meaning turn right

-Haw: meaning turn left

-On-by: meaning keep going past that distraction (if still moving).

-Line-Out: meaning lean into harness and hold the line tight until release. This is super important to reducing potential for tangles as well as having the dogs stay in place when asked (they are strong enough to pull through every brake I have with the exception of my snow hook and that's only dependable under certain weather conditions that are becoming rarer with climate change).

-Woah: meaning stop

The reasons these commands are used, besides tradition, is that they all end on different sounds and/or are quite distinct which makes it easier for the animal to learn and employ what is asked of them. With training animals, be it dogs or horses or cats or rats or anything else, clarity is KEY. It also ensures that when discussing directions with others in your group you aren't accidentally commanding your animals as you can say "right" and "left" freely before a decision is made.

Woah, said in a long slow tone, is universal amongst many languages and amongst many animals that work together with humans. Patricia McConnell goes over this in her book "The Other End of the Leash", which if you have any passing interest in animal behavior and the communication between people and dogs, is a good read.

Even Indigenous language commands are meant to be distinct such as in Greenlandic where they typically use "ILI" for right and "IJU" for left. (Notice how even in Greenlandic the command for right ends in that more "eeeeee" sound like "gee" vs the command for left is a more low tone. Language surrounding such simple things, such as directions, is super cool imo.

Regardless of traditional commands mushers may choose to use their own entirely. It's really up to personal choice. A lot of us also bulk out more typical commands with others that suit our specific needs.

Additional commands that i've trained:

-leave it: meaning leave that distraction alone (if already distracted and stopped). I brought this command in from regular daily obedience training. If they don't leave the distraction at this command in harness we stop them running and reset them which they do not want (stopping = boring for sled dogs) so they're usually pretty motivated to avoid having this told to them and will react pretty quickly.

-Gee over: meaning get to the right hand side of the trail (useful on walks as well)

-Haw over: meaning get to the left hand side of the trail

-Trail: get on the trail (if dog is off the trail, usually after holding them in a stay when asked to go over). We run on a multi-use trail that often has bikers and snowmobiles. Having my dogs get to the side and hold themselves there is crucial not only to the team's safety, but to be conscious of other trail users.

[ao3feed-zukka]

Didn't Know What I Was Missing (But I Guess I Found It)

Read now on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/fTAoKRg by Erisenyo [“Oh,” Zuko says as he sticks his head into Sokka’s bedroom—vaguely wondering, suddenly, at the blanket permission he’s had for years to come in without knocking—and sees Suki unmistakably post-bath, her robe loosely belted around her waist and open across her chest and Sokka half-naked and clearly in the process of working his way across her tits. “Uh,” Zuko continues eloquently, trying to not immediately lose his sense of purpose to the sight, or to wondering about whether the two of them together like this with just each other means they’ve already— “Sorry,” he manages to get out, mouth dry, inner fire buzzing in his ears, “I can—I can come back when you’re—” “Zu!” Sokka pops off Suki’s nipple with an audible sound, grinning. “I thought you had a meeting!”] OR, In some ways, everything stays the same once Zuko starts fucking Sokka and Suki. In other ways, things become very, very different. Words: 23131, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 8 of All Along You Were There (But I Missed It) Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi Characters: Zuko (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar) Relationships: Sokka/Suki/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki/Zuko (Avatar) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Getting Together, idiots to lovers, Feelings Realization, Realizing you're in a relationship and have been for years, Porn with Feelings, Service Top Zuko, Soft Dom Suki, Having a Great Time Sokka, Sokka gets his turn in the middle, Multiple Orgasms, Spitroasting, Dirty Talk, (light) praise kink, Kink negotiation on the fly, The mortiying ordeal of asking for what you want in bed, being used Read it on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/fTAoKRg

[hhighkey]

Haunted // Chapter One, state of dreaming

Inumaki Toge x OC (female)

Chapter Rating: general

Story Contains: unhealthy relationships, strangers to lowkey!friends to lovers, family issues, OC is in high school going into university after summer, she thought curses were ghosts, bad parents want their child dead, 18/19 character ages, toge is so in love, eventual sex prior to relationship, soft dom toge, dacryphylia, over protective/ possessive toge, jealous toge, just both super clingy (refer to my toge headcanons ‘if you're in school’)

Word Count: 1955

KEY: ‘text written with single quotations are writing/typing in notes or messages by toge' and bold text is when japanese sign language comes in

Tags: reply if interested in being tagged :)

Masterlist

-

Keiko had no idea who or what her family really was. Her whole life she'd been locked away- private schooling, hand picked friends, odd interactions... all of it that made the poor girl wonder what was wrong. So much so that everyone in her life treat her with the utmost delicacy. Her parents only gave a simple answers when she asked if they saw what she could. It was never talked about again.

For so long her answers came from sneaking out of her room to listen to grown-up conversations. She'd heard voices, some recognizable, some not, talking about sorcerers, curses, and a prophecy.

The oddest part about the treatment sent her way, was that it all changed two weeks ago on her eighteenth birthday. They'd pulled her aside after her celebration to tell her "You've gotten older our dear, we want you to be able to experience as much as you'd like. Feel free to do as you please and don't worry about us." It was so strange; strange with how they almost seemed melancholy about it. But in all her excitement about the news, Keiko forgot to truly pay attention to the interaction. A regret of hers in hindsight.

The sun was already set, Keiko was sitting at her desk where she just finished up her final homework for the term. She felt an involuntary yawn come over her as she pulled her legs to her chest, heels digging into the edge of her seat. Spinning her chair slightly with her hand against the desk, her headed her head on her knees where she glanced at her bed. On it resting was her black cat, Jelly, laid curled up sleeping. She smiled.

Suddenly an impatient KNOCK sounded at Keiko's door immediately followed by it opening, with no permission to enter came in a young girl staring down at her phone.

"Keiks, we need to plan a trip or something for break or else I'm going to die of boredom." Aki said just barging in and heading straight for the bed.

Sato Aki was Keiko's best friend, practical sister in lame terms. She wasn't someone her parents would have picked for her to spend her time with, but fortunately it was her dad's best friends daughter- he couldn't say no. In every way the two girls complimented each other, their strengths and weakness helped to uplift the other to be their very best. Aki wasn't scared of anything it seemed; she was patient, a little wild, and always pushed Keiko out of her shell. Much different to Keiko who was raised to question everything and be scared. If it hadn't been for the bright girl becoming her best friend five years ago, Keiko probably would have struggled to form sentences or make eye contact.

Aki had the prettiest green eyes, light brown hair to her shoulders that was always wavy. She could always brighten up someone's mood if they were down with her jokes or simply helping them out; whatever they needed.

"Of course, where ya thinking?" it wasn't unusual for her to do this, it actually made Keiko happy that she did.

"Well with your new found freedom we really need to take advantage of it... hmm what about Kyoto?" Aki took a seat on Keiko's bed across from where she sat at her desk, making sure not to wake Jelly or else he'd be in a mood.

"I don't see why not. I'll look into hotels."

"Awesome." Aki smiled, "my grandma was telling me some stuff we could do, said she may want to come with just to see friends. Could help convince our parents."

"That would definitely be ideal. I've also never been so if she can show us around a little?"

"She would love that oh my god." Aki always forgot that Keiko was never allowed to leave Tokyo proximity- which she found insane for the longest time. Keiko needed more experience with the world it wasn't her fault she'd been too sheltered.

"Let her know so then I'll tell my parents. Pretty crazy to know they'll actually say yes too. I feel so much lighter these days. In a way," Keiko laughed. Just knowing she could leave her house without asking did wonders for her mental health already. Was this what other kids experienced? Because it was lovely.

Aki shot her a smile before taking a deep breath and going on to completely change the topic of conversation,

"So I've been doing some snooping for awhile, wanted to wait to actually have something before telling you about it... which might I add was a hassle not telling you I've been itching too,"

Keiko cocked her head to the side with confusion, "and?"

"Well, there's this school called Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College... a mouthful to say I know, that's got some odd dealings. I don't think it's a normal school actually."

"So?"

"Remember that one time I went through your dads office-"

"- Oh you bet I do," Keiko grumbled, "thought I was going to get killed."

"Still surprised we didn't get caught... but! That's asides the point," Aki proclaimed excitedly, "this school has to do with those sorcerers you talked about overhearing once. Every time something weird happens in the city they're there."

"What do you mean by weird?" at first Keiko thought this was just another one of Aki's

"That night all those explosions happened by my apartment, sightings of these weird humanoid things marching about... remember that?" Keiko nodded and her friend continued, "reports about it were on your dads desk. Sort of like I was meant to see it in a way.. and well, your dads signatures were all over the thing like it needed approval from him."

Keiko frowned, "like he's some important person?"

"I think we can conclude that from where you live," Aki laughed, "you've always wondered where your family money came from! Maybe this is it."

She gulped feeling slight hesitancy as it was something she liked not to think about, "I- uh, never told you this but.. years ago I asked my parents if they could see what I can and they nodded a 'yes'." Aki's eyes bulged at what she heard as it was all new, "but basically were like never bring it up again."

"Oh shit.. and this whole time I thought you were crazy... just kidding." she laughed as Keiko shot her a look.

"I mean I guess there's times I still think that I am."

Aki shrugged, "don't think like that. There's actual crazy people out there, like murderers and all. You just uh.. see things."

"And they're scary too.. like they can't be cute?" Keiko asked in a joking tone, "like spiders had to be made scary."

"Practically I guess. If one of those things were latched onto me like... you'd tell me right?"

"Oh of course. Well— I'd text you I wouldn't go near you." she laughed.

"Some friend you are. But Keiko think about it, besides a small trip what else are we going to do for break?"

"Um, I don't know? Go somewhere else?"

"No no, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Aki said with a devilish grin.

"Huh?" Keiko cocked her head in a confused manner,

"Seriously? Ugh..." her friend sighed, "we need to investigate this school! Your parents!"

Keiko's mouth formed an 'O' as she understood now, "I mean, I don't see why not.."

"We have to use your new found freedom somehow! Our first big adventure Keiks."

"And perfect timing too, tomorrow's the last day before break." Keiko grinned feeling excitement rise in her chest.

"That's the spirit!"

The two girls went on to attempt to plan the start of their investigation. It was all silly, them thinking they could play detective to solve their life issues. It was all in fun but they didn't know how real it would get. Keiko thought she had it bad now, she was wrong. A small part of her brain told her that going around asking questions she may not want the answer to was a bad idea, a tiny gut feeling perhaps. But Keiko really wanted to see if the two of them could find out even the tiniest shred of information to help her.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow.. we'll go get food, talk to my grandma and have an awesome break." Aki's smile could just melt every worry Keiko had, she was so reassuring, keeping her up and out or else she'd stay in bed all day.

"Sounds good. Love you bye," Keiko called after her friend who was already halfway out the door already on to the next thing. As fast as she was there she was gone.

Keiko watched with small dismay as Aki left her room knowing she'd be alone now. She sighed, spinning around in her chair as once again her thoughts dove into her life. Keiko lived in a mansion, yet she had no idea where her family got money. There were even parts of the estate she wasn't allowed to venture into. The gardens in the back where she knew was an old, abandoned temple was the main area. She always wondered if living and growing up on these grounds is why she can see ghosts or feel energies from others, and rooms. It was painful to worry about every place or person she met. Scary to walk out her door to go about her daily routine and wonder if she'll see another monster that day. She hated losing sleep or even her sanity over her little gift...

Sometimes Keiko felt like she was dreaming all day everyday. There were times in her life that she had to pretend she was elsewhere, someone else so she could escape her current life. All by herself she had to deal with the emotional toll of seeing ghosts/monsters that took on someone and thinking she was nuts. Sometimes she'd be in class and the hairs on her body was stand straight up as a powerful wave of remembrance of fear would hit her making her dread.

At the age of eighteen she felt on fire. Lost in her own world so she didn't have to deal with her reality. Anywhere she went she was terrified she'd see one or feel death, she was terrified to be alone as it seemed to get worse by each passing week. Her perfect world would be where she didn't feel haunted by ghosts; by the shame, sadness, anger of others.

-

That night Keiko dreamed that she was in the vast garden behind her home, slowly creeping down the paths she was forbidden from. Her form was elegant in a milk white dress with no shoes but the ground with rocks didn't hurt. From above the light of the moon shone a perfect path for her to follow, little lightning bugs fluttered around, and the flowers swayed in the wind. It was ethereal, she felt like she'd been walking on air as she began to hurry to her destination.

Suddenly she dreamed she was inside the abandoned temped with overgrown vines and weeds sprouting from the ground. A spiral staircase was in the center and her body instinctively moved to it and then down. Once she was down, down what seemed miles below the entrance... it was surprisingly light, a large pedestal in the center of the room.

Like she watched from first person view, her dream took her to the pedestal. On it was a young girl with pitch black hair, pale skin, and fast asleep. She looked familiar. On her frail wrist was an outline like a scar, a birthmark.. a sliver of a moon.

It was her.

[justwriteryan]

CAPTAIN MARVEL WALKS INTO A BAR

Exterior shot. Night. A starry sky wheels over a rocky desert landscape. The only signs of life are the lights and sounds coming from a squat building decked out with neon lights. There’s a sign on the roof displaying words in an unintelligible language. Different types of spacecraft sit parked outside. It’s pretty obvious what we’re looking at.

A biker bar.

In space.

Another spaceship gently comes into land beside the others. A shuttle door opens and the pilot emerges. It’s a blonde woman in a uniform of red and blue with a golden star emblazoned across their chest. She is CAROL DANVERS aka CAPTAIN MARVEL. She enters the building and walks straight to the bar. A large surly alien is cleaning glasses. It turns to the newcomer and growls.

CAROL: Gimme something strong.

She slides some coins across the counter. The barkeep produces a green bottle and pours the contents into a small glass. Carol sniffs it suspiciously, then takes a swig. Her face curdles.

CAROL: Tastes like Brood spit. 

The barkeep laughs. Carol turns away from him. She catches snippets of conversation from a table behind her. Two aliens are talking amongst themselves, but they aren’t being discreet about it.

ALIEN: Where do you wanna hit next?

ALIEN #2: Chitauri-Space will have a few abandoned outposts after the Terra invasion.

Carol freezes. She sets her glass down and marches across the room to their table.

CAROL: Tell me everything you know about this Terra invasion.

ALIEN: Frakk off, blondie!

Carol slams her fist on the loudmouth’s hand, crushing it into the table. Her fist begins to glow and the alien starts to whimper in pain. His companion jumps to its feet. Carol raises her free arm at them and they freeze. She shoots them a warning look. Her eyes are glowing like hot coals.

ALIEN #2: It’s you! You’re that Kree renegade!

Carol turns her attention back to the alien squirming under her grip/

CAROL: Talk.

ALIEN: Two cycles ago… a Chitauri fleet invaded Terra.

CAROL: Impossible!

ALIEN: Its true!

CAROL: There’s no way an alien armada gets near Earth without the Nova Corp or freaking Asgard noticing first. No way.

ALIEN: They used some…weapon…or artefact. Used a portal to move from Chitauri-Space to Terran orbit. I swear!

Carol goes quiet as her captive writhes beneath her. They aren’t lying. Carol whispers a question to herself.

CAROL: Why didn’t he call?

Carol intensifies the light and heat emanating from her clenched fist. The alien shrieks in pain.

CAROL: What happened?

ALIEN: I don’t know the details! The Chitauri were beaten back, their mothership destroyed! Nobody knows how the Terrans did it! All we know is some word!

CAROL: What word?

ALIEN: Avengers!

Carol’s face breaks into a smile. Then a grin. The other alien uses this moment to pull out a blaster. Carol jerks back her raised arm and fires a photon blast, knocking her would-be shooter onto the floor. She turns back to the alien she’s been interrogating.

CAROL: One last thing.

ALIEN: I’ll tell you anything! Please!

CAROL: Who gave the order?

ALIEN: Some Asgardian outcast was with them-

CAROL: I don’t care who led the charge! Chitauri are spineless pirates, they aren’t smart enough to pull off an attack from one end of the universe to the other! I’m asking you: who ordered the invasion of Earth?

The alien stops squirming and looks Carol directly in the eye. She looks back at him. Suddenly she understands.

CAROL: Oh. Him.

Carol lifts her arm off the table. The alien clutches it’s hand and collapses in a heap on the floor. Carol turns and marches out the door.

CAROL: You’ll get your turn one day, you son of a bitch. One day.

                                                    END.

Like all of us, I wondered what Captain Marvel was doing during the Chitauri Invasion. While I don't quite answer that here, I thought it would be cool to show her learning about it and tying things back to her own story as well.

[chimericchaos]

Minor rant, yes I did just come from the Big Tugg video on how english is stupid and I entirely agree with him on that

What I do not at all agree with is the opening of the video entirely dedicated to hating children - he just goes out of his way to say "oh yeah before I start this video, I fucking hate kids" and then gives a list of things kids don't know, (because, they're kids) and dunk on them for not knowing stuff

And I find it kinda ironic the person who says that kids should not feel proud of learning- sorry, memorizing- the alphabet, also mispronounces the word Celtic not ten seconds later. Perhaps we all could learn a thing or two by expanding our general knowledge and studying cultures and languages outside our own?

Speaking of languages, side-tangent-within-a-side-tangent, removing s or k and compounding them both into c is a shit take that I'm seeing way too much, when the obvious answer is to get rid of c, it only functions as a replacement for s or k and in either function it creates unnecessary problems (it's really unnecessary for "unnecessary" to be spelt like that but different topic) and that's why a Bunch of fucking languages around the world do Not include a c, such as the language I was forced to learn since birth and Still cannot speak: Afrikaans. There is not a single c in that language and I have never had a spelling mistake from s or k ever. Other mistakes sure but not concerning those.

And you may be wondering "well why can't we just contract the sounds into less letters to save space in the alphabet?" Because while that would not necessarily be so bad, that shit gets real out of hand real fast the more you do it, and all I'm saying is don't come knocking when you can't spell doodle when your a's are also e's and your u's are also i's

Anyway back to the topic of hating kids

This may seem like a wildly specific rant about one youtuber mentioning it offhand once, but I assure you this is not the first time today I've heard this. I hear this multiple times a week. From different people

For some damn reason it's kinda always been a popular take to hate kids and openly talk about how much one would like to see them suffer, and I don't fucking understand it at all???

Like, ok, you find their constant questions and mumbles and movements and other weird sounds very annoying, cool, I find the several cats outside my window doing many unsavoury things to each other each and every night annoying but I still don't talk about it like it's ok to hurt them

And maybe we can take a moment to rationalize the fact that kids tend to ask a lot of dumb things and say a lot of dumb things, because they're dumb?? they have far less experience on this earth than anyone who knows the definition of "economy", and do not yet know how to do basic living shit like how to cook a whole ass chicken, and they don't need to just yet, that's the point

People who don't know shit are going to do and say things as a consequence of not knowing shit

And this is very much a long-winded vent about something that doesn't really effect me at all, but I do in fact see it as a personal problem because not too long ago I too was a kid that didn't know shit, and I was a piece of shit because of it, sure, but something I very much remember is having to deal with people who hated me simply for existing, and I no longer have to deal with people hating my existange as a child, yes, but I still have various other unchangable things about myself that people hate me for, so through that experience I don't think it's a good thing to hate kids just because they're kids, regardless of how annoying the youtube comments are, and at the very least if you're going to think the spawn of your fellow humans are actually the spawn of satan, please do not talk about like it's a normal ass thing

And hey, maybe there's also a part of my brain that has yet to even fucking register that I'm in my roaring 20's now, so that may be why when I come across people hating kids I feel personally attacked

So with that knowledge, if you say to me that you hate kids, for whatever reason, rest assured I already hate you