#i'm sorry idek what this is

[rillils]

rils, absolutely nothing hurts more than bucky saying "its fine, im used to it, ive had worse.." whenever he gets beaten up a lot

It’s the simple, matter-of-fact way he says it, that makes it all the more heartbreaking.

If he were crying, if he were slamming his balled-up fists into the wall, screaming, rioting at the unfairness of it all, Steve thinks it might be just that bit easier. Then, at least he could wipe Bucky’s tears away, dull the sharp knife-edge of Bucky’s grief with his own hands, hold him in his arms until all the parts of him came back together.

But Bucky keeps his grief under the surface, silent; private, except for those glimpses his body lets slip sometimes, in the traitorous set of his tense shoulders, or the blanching of his knuckles digging tight into his thighs, or the painful clenching of his jaw.

He brushes off the bruises, the cuts, the dark blood crusting his suit, shrugging his shoulder as Steve coaxes him into the chair he pulled up for him from the kitchen table.

“I’m fine,” he says, his jaw blossoming purple and blue in Steve’s cupped hand. Says ‘I’m fine’ and means it, just the same as Steve meant it when he used to say ‘I can take it’ after each beating in a piss-rank alley, back in the day. He recognizes it; the intimate need to believe it, to make it true, speak it true, even on the days when it started to taste like a lie.

“I’m used to it,” Bucky assures him, speaking softly in the homely kitchen glow, hand squeezing Steve’s knee with gentle purpose – as though that wasn’t the worst part. As thought it wasn’t the cruelest piece of truth.

He’s used to it.

He’s grown used to it.

There are so many things humans can grow into. Grow better. Grow kinder. Grow older. But Bucky’s grown into the pain, was raised into it, shaped into it, until pain became a natural presence lingering under his skin, twining its ancient roots around his ribs.

“You shouldn’t be used to it,” Steve murmurs, dabbing iodine over the tender-looking cut cresting Bucky’s cheekbone.

He shouldn’t have to be used to it.

Habit can turn even the most terrible things into day-to-day routine, given enough time.

Habit will see the hurt and whisper, It’s okay, it’s just another Tuesday. It doesn’t matter. But it does. It matters so much, so much it’s all Steve can see right now. That’s what he tries to tell Bucky, with the swipe of his thumb over Bucky’s good cheekbone, seeking the places where touch won’t hurt, where the caress will stir only warmth, no lurking aches: It matters. That’s the salve he spreads on Bucky’s bruised cheek, before slipping the band-aid into place, smoothing it over with the pad of his thumb, tender like a naked heart: It matters.

So what if the black and blue will have faded tomorrow, leaving behind nothing but the olive skin Steve has worshipped longer and more fervently than any gods or holy ghosts? So what if the wounds will heal fast, and the flesh knit itself back together till there’s not a pale scar left behind? That doesn’t mean Bucky’s not hurting now. That doesn’t mean the heart won’t remember, even when all the evidence is gone.

Bucky must read his thoughts on his face, easy as leafing through a book.

“It’s nothing, I swear,” he insists, rubbing soothing circles on the meat of Steve’s kevlar-clad thigh, a small, lopsided grin slanted on his lips. “I’ve had much worse than this.”

He seems to regret the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. Steve sees it, how the grin seals back up and Bucky’s eyes widen for a moment, as if he startled himself. The way his Adam’s apple bobs and his lips part and close and part again, hesitating. “Sweetheart.”

“I know,” Steve says. “It’s okay.”

Worse, in their two-people world, is barely a euphemism for the atrocities Bucky has borne, the likes of which Steve couldn’t have dreamed of even when he used to come home with more black eyes and fractured ribs than his stubborn body could afford to handle. Worse is a sore spot they only ever touch carefully, treading hand in hand on crumbling ground, and doing so takes its toll. There’s a time and a place for Worse, and tonight, Steve estimates, they both lack the spoons for it.

“Tell me something else you’re used to.” He wets his lips. “Something nice.”

Bucky’s eyes soften. In the dim, buttery light, his irises glitter like gems, startlingly pretty, and the corners crinkle just so, roped into a genuine smile. “Something nice, huh?”

His palms curl around Steve’s forearms, pulling him into Bucky’s space; and Steve goes, standing up from his chair only to step into Bucky’s inviting embrace, climbing into his lap, hoarded close in Bucky’s capable arms.

It’s precious, how Bucky has to tip his head back to look him in the eye like this. The way he looks up – looks up at Steve like he’s gazing at the stars, eyes full of wonder, of something soft like Oh, like How. How does something this beautiful exist. How does it bring light here, where the world is at its darkest.

Bucky’s flesh hand comes up to touch him, warm, brushing knuckle-first against his skin to stroke the soft underside of Steve’s chin, his fingers overlapping with Steve’s jawline, raspy with the day’s stubble.

“I could list you a whole bunch of nice somethings,” Bucky rumbles, gaze raking all over Steve’s face to drink him in, here, up close where he won’t miss a single detail. As though he could collect every freckle, every mole and laugh line and tuck them away for safekeeping, treasures that they are.

Steve exhales softly, feeling warmed through. Wanted. Desired. Craved, with that delicate, bone-deep hunger with which one craves a caress from their lover.

“Just give me the first one off the top of your head,” he prompts, whisper-soft, and tastes the word when Bucky breathes: “One”, against the curve of his lips, before capturing them in a kiss.

He lets Steve take the lead, and Steve moves them as he sees fit: slow and gentle, the bruises on Bucky’s face demanding that he take care, softly now, easy does it, as he tilts his head to the side and slips tender into the welcoming heat of Bucky’s mouth, dancing their tongues together.

His fingers sink in Bucky’s hair, cradling the nape of his neck as they part, lingering, close enough to breathe each other’s air.

“'Tell you a secret, though,” Bucky husks, breathing in with his eyes closed, his nose rubbing at Steve’s flushed cheek. He’s so warm, so warm all around him. Holding onto Steve with a need so deep, Steve is sure it’ll bruise him too, heart and soul. “I ain’t ever getting used to this, honey.”

Steve feels himself shiver, heat dripping down his spine. I love you, he feels, starting breathless in his lungs, tingling all the way into his fingertips, straining against the seams of his skin, too big to be held within. I love you, love you, love you–

In a cone of yellow light in their kitchen, he holds Bucky tight, and he doesn’t let go.

[unclewaynemunson]

Was listening to army dreamers by my beloved kate bush and started thinking about Steve deciding to join the military because the kids are growing up, there’s nothing left for him in Hawkins anymore, and all he has ever been good at was taking punches, right?

But when he calls Robin, all excited that he finally figured out what he wants to do with his life beyond working shitty retail jobs that don’t make him happy, she’s horrified. And Steve, expecting her to be supportive of him like she always is, gets mad at her, assuming that she doesn’t believe in him at all, that she thinks he’s such a failure that he can’t even do the one thing he thought he was good at.

‘Steve,’ Robin says, changing her voice to something soft and startled when she realizes that that’s what this is about. ‘It’s not that I don’t believe in you, dingus. It’s that I believe you have so much more to offer. You’re kind, and caring, good with kids, a great listener, you’re creative and smart - maybe not academically, but there’s other ways of being smart, you know. You can do so many things - you could be a cook, a baker, a hairdresser, a mechanic, a social worker, a nurse, a firefighter, a zookeeper - do I need to go on? Because I can keep listing things for hours, seriously. You could be literally anything, Steve, I swear. But please, please, not a soldier. We need you in this world. I can’t - I can’t lose you.’

They stay on the phone for hours after that, drying their tears together and reassuring one another how much faith they have in each other and how much they love each other.

Steve decides the next day that it wasn’t really his dream to join the military, after all. He’s done enough fighting in his life. He can become something new, now. If Robin believes in him, so can he. He’ll find something he loves; and whatever it’s gonna be, he’ll be able to do it alongside his best friend.

[ghostgirl-ward]

requested

[mrsoharaa]

He tells himself that he was in no way infatuated with you what so ever. Not a bit. Has to constantly convince himself within his messy mindset that he was or is, no way obligated to willingly shun his looming presence with yours. None.

But how is it that he now finds himself nestled ever so comfortably in the softness of your cushioned couch. One arm toppled behind his head as the other pets gently, lazily along the prickling fur of your adorable pup resting on him. Eyes closed softly, as his mind now warps solely on you, from your beautiful beaming smile to the supple adorable giggles that swarm his cold heart. It astonishes him of how more frequent you come to his blundering mind, easing him from the overbearing stress that weighs down on him from the insisting impairment of protecting the multiverse.

And you, lurking just at the start of your hallway, lean against the solid wall beside you, cross your arms and smile giddily at the adorable sight bestowing before you. You'd carefully walk over to the two napping babies, bringing a cozy, thick throw over the snoozing companions embracing each others company.

You'd simply, delicately brush some of his gorgeous, thick loose strands of mahogany from his peaceful, stunning face. Thoroughly admiring every intricate, atoning detail that strung along the perfect structure of his restful face.

Absentmindedly, without any realization and lost into the sheer beauty his relaxed face had to offer — you could feel the supple tender of his warm, plush lips graze just ever so softly against the pad of you index finger. A low, inaudible gasp shimmies down the juncture of your throat, blinking rapidly, your eyes gaze down to the placement of your wandering fingertips. A feeble, radiating heat slowly absorbing into your plush cheeks. A low, rumbled chuckle bounces against the flush of your inquisitive digit, igniting a fervent pace of your puttering heart.

Your lashes flutter rapidly, dilated irises now met with a beautiful set of glossed carmine. A playful glint of soft coy and amusement clearly shining through those gorgeous, ruby globes. A gentle touch of his large hand wraps ever so carefully around your slim wrist, pushing his lips more intimately against the warm flesh of your tensed finger. His eyes never wavering from your stunned, embarrassed expression.

How cute.

His own long, thick fingers playing along the silky skin of your trembling wrist. Emits another amused chuckle, pressing another light kiss to your finger.

"You know it's rude to interrupt a mans sleep, cariño"

[elderwispthesecond]

UPDATE: my blog was reinstated, thank u guys!

hai guys, not sure to post this but HI hello i'm elderwisp, my account was terminated earlier this evening so i made this backup account @staff please reach out so we can get my blog reinstated that would be so babygirl of you ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[lunarharp]

into the deep end - 30k T orufrey fic, focusing on memory trauma, disability, and romance.

the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the witch.

for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.

the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.

but they were never whole to begin with, were they?

qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.

olly says nothing.

[weltato]

Ok, I know I myself spam reblog things a lot but-

@noplacelikelondon58 you are insane! no shame, no thought, just reblog two posts a total of 33 times and move on

Damn. This is a skill I must master.

[amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix]

how long can you stand the heat || ot7

Warnings: Uhhh, none I think? Non-graphical smut and slight angst, but that's pretty much it for now since I'm still crafting the next part, and some curse words lmao.

I won't control you, but MDNI. This is not for you, please.

Pairings: OT7/(F) Reader, Jackson Wang/(F) Reader

Plot: The one where your soulmates don't want you in their life, so you give them what they want and stay out of their way.

Genre: not really unrequited love (but they're all idiots), mutual pining, angst, denial of feelings, poly ot7

How do you think I'm going to get along

Without you when you're gone?

You took me for everything that I had

And kicked me out on my own.

Are you happy? Are you satisfied?

How long can you stand the heat?

Out of the doorway the bullets rip

To the sound of the beat.

mixtape: all i have left to give - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - ending 1

I originally posted this on ao3 last April but I've just recently thought, "why not post this on tumblr now that i'm using it again after a few years?"

this fic is v self-serving, and was brought to you by my ✨maladaptive daydreams✨

first fic i posted here. idek what im doing but lezzgawwww

Title obviously came from AOBTD. Thank you, Sir John Deacon. You are heaven-sent for making this iconic and legendary bop.

This will be a part of a multi-fic series and i've already crafted 80/90-ish% of the next part im so sorry my mind isn't cooperating rn

✨️

God must be testing your patience.

I mean sure, you might not also be sure that there is indeed a god out there somewhere. However, you must have pissed off some deity or you had pissed on some old man of the mound. Either way, you don't care. You're pissed off now, too.

You see when they rejected you and asked (read: avoided you like the plague until Sejin spoke with you) not to speak or interact with them, you respected their wishes. It stung, but it's not really surprising.

It's not a secret that the seven of them are soulmates, polyamorous soulbonds not even a rarity in and out of the industry. However, it's also not a secret that they're very exclusive and don't let too many (if any) other people in their circle because of the things they had to endure as a group. It makes sense that they wouldn't want a new person intruding and messing with their dynamics, soulmate or not.

(deep down you want to say it doesn't make sense. you're their soulmate, why can't they accept you like that? but there's still nothing you can do, isn't there?)

And so, you delegated all your tasks related to their group to your most trusted employees completely and avoided them at all costs. And by 'at all costs', you mean everything. You even deleted all their songs on your playlists and blocked them on social media (even on Spotify). You can co-exist with them without interacting, although it makes your chest ache through the bond because of the soul rejection like a 24/7 acid relapse.

It's fine. You can ignore all that. You can handle rejection. You've been used to this since you were a kid; adult you can handle this.

Soul rejection side effects? Nothing meds and doctors can't fix. Technology has never been more advanced and all that jazz.

You're a mature person, and you pride yourself on that. You don't like confrontations that much and would rather step back as much as you can to disengage. If your soulmates don't want anything to do with you, then you'll back off.

But you sometimes wonder if they can feel it too, the soul strings fraying and slowly decaying. After shit went down, it's bouts of nausea and dizziness, and constant chest aches for you. That's not even half of it. It'll take a whole day for you to list all your symptoms.

If they do feel it, does it add to their list of reasons why they hate your existence? You mean, they had been borderline antagonistic since your first meeting, cold but civil at best.

It was a contrast to the way the tiny soul marks on each of your fingers glowed on your first meeting even until after Taehyung and Yoongi fled in what you can guess is disbelief and refusal, the others following suit. The warmth in your hands felt scorching, and you had never wanted to scrub them with water in your life then more than you ever did, your chest beating hard and painfully. You remember feeling like someone slashed your insides with a hot knife, and it has never stopped being in pain ever since.

What else were you supposed to think other than they hate you?

Not wanting to risk another embarrassing conversation with Sejin (bless his heart), you decided to book an appointment and signed up for the relatively new soul-scraping therapy. It's still in its human trial stages and is slowly being recognized as a way of severing soul ties, albeit not approved and sanctioned by the government. Anything to give and honor their wishes. They're your soulmates, and it's innate in you to give people what they want.

(or was it really just that?)

All of that and everything else, you can take. You live and abide by your life motto to stay out of drama, so you take all of it in stride and with dignity because it's all you have left at this point when it comes to them.

This is where you got pissed off, though. This day takes the cake, this sodding party.

Attending the party was certainly not your idea. You're tired from the long-ass meetings you had today—JYP's team asked for a meeting for your agreement with Day6 since Sungjin got discharged a few months ago with Younghyun following suit in a few days. A party is definitely not on your to-do list. If it's up to you, you'll be going home to your phone and fics.

(and if they're bangtan fics, nobody has to know. this, you can let yourself have—you were advised against going cold turkey from them by the doctors handling the soul-scraping therapy, after all. if you can't have them, maybe you can at least indulge in fictional them.)

You have been minding your own business since you arrived at the bar. It's laughable how socially inept you are despite handling your business and meeting the entertainment industry's biggest names and leaders regularly. When being put in parties and other gigs that force you to socialize just for the sake of socializing, you're back to being the fat loser kid that avoided making new friends because the ones you previously had in childhood (if you can really call them that) can't understand how your brain and mouth work. Frankly, you don't, too, so you just preferred to stay in one corner until it's socially acceptable to go home.

"Hey." Jackson squeezes your hand in his and smiles worriedly at you. "You doing okay?"

Jackson had been a long-time friend and is someone you trust your whole life with. Jackson had seen you through your bests and worsts, but had never once turned his back on you or betrayed you as many people did.

Yeah, you would trust him with your whole life. Your panties too, but don't tell him that.

(there's no need to because he knows; he did lots of times before, with his face between your thighs and your undies in his pocket.)

"I'm good." You don't even bother smiling, knowing it won't convince him too much. He knows your stand on parties; you're his polar opposite, after all. "I just really wanna go home."

"Can I come with?" he asks with a salacious smile.

You roll your eyes.

"Stop being horny for five minutes, please."

"You shouldn't have worn that dress, then." He rakes you with an assessing look. "On second thought, that's the best decision you did tonight so far. If you're not going home with anyone tonight, my room's open."

"You up to be my wingman?" you ask.

"Sure. I'll sit with you all night so we can look like a swinger couple scouting for a third we can take home." He waggles his eyebrows.

You snort at that with an amused chuckle, oblivious to the glare(s) directed your way by—who else?—your soulmates.

They (Taehyung) heard from Manager Sejin and Noona Ae-cha that you're not sure if you can come. They didn't know why the two were talking about you, but Taehyung tried to act immersed in his phone while eavesdropping.

Apparently, you had been stuck in the boardroom almost all day with the back-to-back meetings, and you even had to cancel your doctor's appointment. For what the appointment is for, he didn't know. It explains your absence that day, and he files the information away at the back of his head. He can't for the life of him understand why he can't stop trying to spot crumbs about you.

(he does know, but he's in denial about why—and he'll deny both.)

He then told his hyungs and Jungkook, which they just nodded at, seemingly uninterested. But if Namjoon's faraway serious look at times is anything to go by or the way Jimin picks at the skin on his lips as he's lost in thought, he's pretty sure they are also subtly trying to figure out if you're coming.

(but they'll all deny that if asked.)

They haven't seen you that much since they started actively avoiding you months ago and shut down whatever soul link you have with them, and you are damn good at trying to stay out of their way.

It surprised them, they're not gonna lie. They expected you to put up a fight, but all Manager Sejin told them was that you agreed. You never interacted with them ever since unless it was really needed, and you were always wearing your rings and not making unnecessary eye contact even once.

(and that somehow pisses them off and itches under their skin because how dare you not be interested?)

And now you've been here for the past hour or so, Jackson Wang in tow. Or rather, Jackson has his arms alternately snaked around yours or slung around your shoulders. It makes Jackson look like a frat douchebag.

(and it makes taehyung look jealous and interested in you which he is so not, no.)

Hoseok was the first one to spot you arriving, Another One Bites The Dust thumping through the dancefloor that was bathed in red lights. He nudges Namjoon from his seat in their secluded and swanky VIP room that was separated one floor above the bar proper.

"There she is", he says then, gesturing towards you as all seven pairs of eyes land on you as you enter with Jackson. "She's with Wang."

With varying levels of internal turmoil, they all watch as Jackson led you through the throngs of people, presumably to another room like theirs. They see you shake your head and point to the bar, and Jackson's face light up with a wide smile before redirecting your steps.

Yoongi asks himself why you have to wear that dress or why Jackson has to clutch at your hands like a little kid, the others having a similar train of thought. Does Jackson think he's going to be lost in this bar? Is he that plain stupid to be lost in this bar, really?

And why are you letting him?

Jimin tries not to let his eyes wander on your legs, tries not to let his mind wander back to the thought of being choked by your thick supple legs and ripping that off-shoulder dress off you and—

Oh. Woah, there.

Stop it! he thinks to himself and shakes his head.

(this is not the first time he's thought of this, darling. when he first saw those smooth and lovely-looking plump thighs, he knows he was fucked.)

Jin is no better, but he hides it better than the others. After all, it was not his idea to shut you out like that. He was opposed to it and tried to talk some sense into the others, but they didn't listen. He thought back then that Namjoon would at least be reasonable and give you a shot but nooo, the kid was stupid enough to listen to others.

Let them have what they want, then.

(he can feel the pit and longing in his chest some nights and thinks that maybe he can let the others do what they want but still do what he wants too. but he takes a look at the six men who had been there for him through thick and thin, and he can't lose them. he sends you an apology mentally, hoping you can at least feel it through the bond.)

"Calm down," Jin tells them levelly, trying to pry the glass off Namjoon's hand, lest he crushes it and injures himself. "You're crushing the poor thing, Joonie. Don't wanna end up in the ER, do you?"

Jackson's the one to end up in the ER if he doesn't unwrap his arms from your shoulders, that's who, Namjoon thinks to himself bitterly before he can stop himself.

Jin leans back on his seat and watches as you laugh with Jackson, arms slung around your shoulders as the latter listens to you talk. They all wouldn't have to seethe in barely contained anger if they just listened to him though, so who's at fault here?

Aish, these brats.

"I'm going to get more drinks," Jungkook suddenly says, disentangling himself from Taehyung fluidly.

"You can just ask them," Namjoon says, pointing towards the glass doors where their security detail is posed out of the room. "There's no need to go out."

"I'm going to get more drinks," Jungkook repeats firmly, ignoring him. Namjoon's jaw clenches. "Come help me, Jin-hyung?"

Ah, this conniving brat. Jin wants to kiss his pouty lips for this.

"Sure," Jin says easily, much to Namjoon's annoyance. He pats Namjoon's cheeks gently. "No breaking the glass, Joon-ah. We have a photoshoot tomorrow."

He pulls Jungkook out of the room before any of them can disagree further. He loops his arm around Jungkook's petite waist, nodding once to the man stationed at the door.

"You're not just getting drinks at you, aren't you?" Jin asks as they descend the steps.

"I don't know what you're talking about, hyung." Jungkook's smile is sharp. "I just don't wanna get roofied and end up on the tabloids tomorrow, is all."

"You don't have to lie to me," Jin says, kissing his hair. "I wanna see her, too."

Jungkook's smile turns sad at that.

"I just don't understand. [Name]-noona seems like a nice person. They're all being stupid."

Jin has to agree. "But you know why we have to, right? I don't like it, too, but we have no choice."

"But we do!" Jungkook insists. "We can be friends, even."

"Friends don't fuck friends." Jungkook snorts at that. "There's nothing 'friends' about wanting her with us, Jungkook."

"Friends don't fuck friends, my ass," Jungkook mumble mockingly. "That didn't stop Jackson-hyung at all."

Jin stops momentarily, pulling Jungkook to a stop. "Excuse me?"

"They were having sex last week, hyung. When Jackson-hyung came over last Wednesday."

"Was that why...?"

"Yeah." Jungkook takes his hand as they walk again. "I felt it through the strings, too."

Jungkook is suspiciously not meeting his eyes.

"Jungkook-ah."

"What?" he asks innocently. Jin's lips pull into a smirk.

"You naughty cat!"

"I—what? No!" but Jungkook is still not meeting his eyes. "I didn't watch them."

Jin gasps delightedly.

"This is so much better. I didn't even say anything yet!"

Ah, fuck.

In Jungkook's defense, he hadn't meant to listen in. But he had been on his way back to the practice room from relieving his screaming bladder when he heard it. The warmth and arousal that was definitely not his he had been ignoring since that lunchtime was not helping his curiosity.

"Ah!" And oh shit, it's someone moaning and it's you.

That explains the arousal he's been feeling. Oh, and the jealousy now (his), too.

"Yeah?" A deeper voice asked breathlessly. Another punched-out moan from you, and the arousal flares in his chest.

Yup. It's definitely his this time.

"Jackson, please," your equally breathless voice pleaded, and the sound shot to his cock. Jungkook had to stop his hand from going south inside his pants and boxers.

A delighted shriek and breathless laugh, followed by a staccato of 'ah ah ah's and hips slapping against each other punctuated the otherwise silent afternoon he was having.

And what would a self-respecting man do?

Stay and listen to you get railed six ways to Sunday, was what he did.

(jungkook didn't say he's a self-respecting man.)

Jungkook slipped his hand inside his pants and boxers and wrapped his hand around his aching cock. He almost moaned at how your moans quickly reached a whole other level of desperation. He wondered and tried to imagine how you would feel around him if he fucked you harder and deeper than Jackson possibly can.

He knows he can.

"Hands, Jackson." There was a chuckle, then your whine was heard. "Baobei, please."

Jungkook heard Jackson's sharp intake of breath, and he had to internally agree. Even speaking Mandarin, you sound so hot.

He heard you mewl with a choked giggle as the sounds of hips to hips got faster.

"You really like my hands, huh?" Jackson asked.

"Mhm. Want them wrapped around my—ah!—neck all the time."

Fuck.

Jungkook had to bite onto his hands as he came, so as not to give his position away, cock spurting on his hands,. Seconds later and he heard you cry out and Jackson grunt to completion.

So, no. He definitely didn't watch.

"You nasty, nasty boy!" Jin cackles at him and he wants to pout. "You listened in to them having sex?!"

"Hyung!" Jungkook hisses. "Not too loud."

Jin snickers at him, mouth pulled in a tempting smirk he wants to kiss. "Was it good?"

"Hyung," he whines. At Jin's unfaltering smirk, he sighs. "It was. She sounds so good, hyung. I can't take it off my mind."

"Maybe later, we can do something about that." Jin says with a low hum.

He peers at Jin's eyes and almost shudders at the dark and hungry look in them. Jin squeezes his waist, and it takes Jungkook's breath away.

In his silence, Jin nods with a hum.

"Hm, definitely later."

He won't say no to that. If they can't have you, Jungkook's gonna take what he can get, even if it means settling on replaying your moans in his head.

When they reach the bar, you are still sitting at the other end with Jackson. They are careful not to be seen by you or you'll probably leave like you always do when they get within your 10-foot vicinity.

Then Jackson puts his hand on your slightly exposed leg. He feels the others' jealousy through the bond first before he feels his own, and he sees you stiffen in your seat.

Hyungs!

Jungkook quickly looks away, but not before Jackson catches his gaze. He completely misses the way Jackson's mouth pulls into a quick smirk as their drinks are thankfully served at that exact moment.

"Wanna head back to your place?"

You're unexpectedly suddenly close, and it's like Jackson wants him and Jin to hear to rile them up. It works, and he can barely tamp down the urge to pour the drinks over Jackson's big head, being older be damned.

"Sure. I'll just swing by the restroom." You say as you walk away. Jin and Jungkook take that as their cue to go back to their ritzy room.

"That was short," Jin says tightly as they go back. "Was it you?"

Jungkook shakes his head.

Jin's lips quirk into an amused smile.

"Ah, jealous bastards."

"Weren't you too, though?" Jungkook asks with a slightly amused smile of his own. "That was... that was intense."

"That serves them," Jin says as they near the room. "If they weren't just pigheaded, it's my shoulders her legs are gonna be hanging from later."

"Jin-hyung!" Jungkoo huffs, but then deflates. "Yeah."

"Don't worry, we still have later," Jin says with a lascivious smirk.

And he can't complain about that, can he?

"Where's Tae-hyung?" he asks when they enter the room, Taehyung nowhere in sight.

"Went out. Didn't say where." Hoseok says as he accepts their drinks and puts the tray on the table. It takes a few seconds for him to piece it all together, and he mentally facepalms.

"Whatever happened to 'not giving a fuck' about [Name]?" he mumbles.

"Jungkook," Namjoon warns.

It sets him off.

"What? Are you all really going to keep on pretending? You do realize I felt that back there too, right?" he shoots back.

"So the drinks were just a ruse?" Namjoon's face is stormy.

Jungkook holds his gaze steady. "And what if it was? You all know what I felt about this since day one."

"Kook-ah." It's Jimin this time. "Not now, please."

"And when, hyung? When we go back to just pretending an eighth of our soul doesn't exist out there?"

"Jungkook."

He glares at Yoongi. "No, hyung. If you all want to be stupid, I don't! [Name]-noona is going through therapy because of this, don't you know?"

Yoongi scoffs. "She's a big girl, she can handle herself."

"Not soul-scraping therapy, she won't."

They all stop at that. Even Jungkook stops and internally curses.

Fuck, he wasn't supposed to say that.

"What did you say?" Namjoon's voice takes on a dangerous tone.

He huffs but stays silent, not really wanting to dig a deeper hole for himself.

"Jungkook."

"I talked to Jiho-hyung, okay? I bumped into him five months ago when he visited her."

Silence.

"Im Jiho?" At Jungkook's nod, Namjoon's frown deepened. "I didn't know he practices soul-scraping."

"He's co-authoring the soul-scraping study with Doctor Seong."

At the mention of one of their previous soul health doctors, Yoongi raises his eyebrows.

"Our Doctor Seong?"

Jungkook nods with a sigh, plopping down beside Hoseok. "Apparently, it's why he stopped private practice—to focus on the studies. They're also lobbying for fully legalizing soul-scraping in the Assembly. I ran into him, and he mentioned that he was there for noona's side effects from the therapy."

Side effects?

Shit.

"W-wait. Five months, you said?" Jin says with a tremble in his voice. "Is that why I can barely feel her anymore?"

Jungkook's sigh is pained, forlorn. "Apparently, yeah."

They all lapse in complete silence after that, the thumping of the beat on the dancefloor faint through the walls.

"Fuck."

Indeed.

It is then that Taehyung comes back. He takes one look at their varying degrees of solemn and stunned expressions and tilts his head.

"What? What happened?" he asks.

"[Name]..."

Taehyung's eyes widen before his expression smooths into indifference.

"I told you, I'm no—"

"That's not it," Jimin says softly. "She's in soul-scraping therapy, Taehyung-ah."

...

"What?"

(oh, lord. you don't know the turmoil you caused all these pining idiots, darling.)

---

And what about you?

As we said in the beginning, god must be testing your patience.

"Hey," Jackson says softly. He lifts your chin with a gentle smile long after Taehyung fucked off to god knows where. "You good, baobei?"

You didn't even know they were here. You were vaguely aware that yeah, they might be, but it totally slipped your mind. Meetings really did drain your brain.

When you stood up and went to the restroom while Jackson called for the driver, you didn't know that Taehyung was watching you from their room and completely high-tailed it from there just to intercept you when he saw you stand up from the corner of the bar. You didn't know why, but his stupid drunken ass just decided it wanted and it was a good idea to rile you up.

To piss you off is why, you think.

When you exited the ladies' room, Taehyung was standing there by the wall looking lethal. The ache in your chest flared up for two different reasons, but you ignored it. You ignored him and started walking away, pretending you didn't see him.

"So you're really here."

Seriously?

You continued ignoring him and walked on, but he didn't let you get far.

He grabs your wrist. "I said, you're really here."

The spot where he held you burned and you hissed, cursing the therapy's side effects. You were warned that coming in contact skin-to-skin with your soulmates while undergoing the therapy would feel painful (literally), but you didn't heed it then. You had no reason to touch them after all when they didn't even want to see you.

But it is painful, and it burns.

You yanked your wrist away, hiding your wrist behind your back. There's no need for that, though. Taehyung was looking at your face intently.

"Yes, and I was just leaving. See you around, T—"

"With Jackson?"

What's it with this guy?

You looked back at him and squared your shoulders up. "That's really none of your business, Taehyung."

He laughed with a sneer, shaking his head.

"What would people say if they knew you're off gallivanting with men who aren't your soulmate?"

Wow.

The nerve of this asshole.

You can't let him see it affect you though, so you tilt your head with an innocent smile.

"I'm just a nobody. Why would they talk about me? " You smirked in amusement. "I don't think it'll be me they will talk about since I wasn't the one who rejected my soulmate, was I?"

And oh, shit. Where did that come from, [Name]? Feisty.

"And I'm not doing anything illegal. Why should I be scared?" You slightly lean back and tilt your chin up. "I'm not the one between us with a reputation to uphold, a name I should protect."

You paused, a serene smile on your face.

"I'm not a coward. I'm not you, Taehyung"

The smirk on his lips was replaced with a sharp look of disdain, almost like he wants to slap the smile off your face.

(he wants to, darling. trust me. just not in the way you think.)

You knew you hit a nerve and it feels petty and mean, but it's nothing compared to the loneliness and pain they gave you these past few months. It felt satisfying, even if for just a bit.

"You really think you're all that, don't you?" He smiled almost mockingly. "Tell me, how does it feel to be rejected?"

That really stung and angered you, but you've spent all your life hiding your emotions when needed to. Your expression didn't falter.

"It feels good—"

"—because she dodged a bullet."

You internally sighed in relief as Jackson's voice float behind you. You'll forever be thankful for this man's existence, gods or not.

You melt in his arms when he wrapped them around your waist. You chanced a look at Jackson, not seeing the twitch on Taehyung's brows at your body language.

"You really think you're all that, don't you?" Jackson mocked back at him. "Imagine thinking it's the end of the world for your soulmate just because you shut down their bond." Jackson chuckled ruthlessly.

"You're pathetic, Taehyung-ssi."

The two were locked in a glowering match before Taehyung straightened up and spun on his heel without a word.

Jackson let you get your bearings by the wall of the hallway to the ladies' room in silence. But he didn't let you stew in your thoughts for long.

So now here you are, looking at his gentle eyes.

"You good, baobei?"

You don't know how to answer that really, so you pull him by the collar into a searing kiss.

He puts his hand on your waist, the other on the wall by your face, and you tighten your hold on his collar.

You pull away to gasp for air.

"Take me home," you exhale heavily as you lean your head on his shoulder. "Take me home and fuck me 'til I forget, or I might do something stupid."

Jackson's sharp intake of air is your answer before he pulls you away to your awaiting car outside the club.

---

feedback (constructive, please don't be too rude bc i'll cry) and kudos very much appreciated!

[thresholdbb]

Kate's reaction to Time and Again was, "I wore this?" 🤣

[viivdle]

cardan: taryn?

jude, standing in front of the high court:

[mittensmorgul]

i need to know where and how and why the concept of Free Will in supernatural has been erased... like... the whole point of the show is that humans DO have free will! like... that literally causes All The Problems for Chuck in telling his preferred story! He really, seriously leans into it in early seasons!

Chuck's Story doesn't preempt human Free Will! It USES it! He creates Situations™ where he knows what his "characters" would choose! He pushes them into making the choices they do! THAT IS THE POINT!

But then they start seeing more and more behind the layers of curtains! They get bigger and bigger glimpses of what makes their universe tick, open more doors to different parts of existence and still CHOOSE every time to stay in the fight, to not just lay down and give in to the story Chuck spends 15 seasons trying to force them into!

And I appreciate the concept of Castiel "inventing" free will for himself, but he literally did not! He learned it from watching Dean, and figured out how to apply it to himself! It's literally the point of his entire character arc, from following heaven's orders and believing fully in the righteousness of his mission from God, to his disillusionment and increasing curiosity and care for humanity in general and Dean in particular! And he goes through hell! and Purgatory! and the Empty! literally and metaphorically! over and over again! as he GROWS his own identity and learns to make his own choices!

BUT HE DIDN'T FUCKING INVENT FREE WILL!

DEAN (and Sam, and every other HUMAN character in the story!) ALWAYS HAD FREE WILL FIRST!

like... why does a lot of fandom seem to want to erase this fundamental aspect of the story and hand the only agency in the narrative to Cas? Basically erasing everything he actually struggled through to grow into that?

Especially when the final season is essentially Chuck's attempt to break their own belief in their own free will?! And he almost succeeds! BUT ALSO! He is COUNTING ON THEM TO EXERCISE THEIR FREE WILL TO ENACT HIS FINAL STORYLINE.

ugh it just... sucks all the importance of any of the characters' arcs to just say they never had a choice in anything, that none of them were ever "real" enough to have made their own choices at all. I personally find it a horrifying take on the entire narrative.

And yet... i see it stated constantly as an undeniable fact of the story. like i get we all made jokes about this during s15, but... yikes

[duusheen]

KEATON STRATTON for @rainymoodlet | Kiss Me in Komorebi 🌹

If Keaton were to think about his ideal man, he might be... tall, with black hair, with an unconditional love for his family, hot brown eyes... okay, yes, like Daniel Taylor. The first time Keaton saw the man was during his appearance on Jupiter York's bachelorette show, and when found out he would have his own show, Keaton tried to apply. Unfortunately, all the slots were filled and he was put on a provisional "just in case" list, whatever that means. Keaton returned to his ranch and forgot about it. Until now, at least, when the production made him an unexpected offer he couldn't refuse.

"Hello, Mr. Stratton, are you still interested in being on the show?"

More about Keaton 👇🏽

Keaton was born and raised in Chestnut Ridge. He met Margaret, or Maggie as everyone calls her, when he was in school and they had a huge friendship that turned into something more at prom. Keaton wasn't interested in a college degree; he just wanted to run his family's ranch so he did that after highschool. Unfortunately for him, he also discovered his interest was in guys rather than girls just when Maggie told him she was pregnant. He married her out of duty, but was absolutely honest from the start, and from that moment on Maggie became his best friend. She has been his biggest support over the years, and they both worked together to raise their daughter Lara. But Maggie fell in love and remarried, leaving Keaton alone with his ranch. He thought being a rancher would be enough for him, and it was... for a few years at least, but not anymore.

Some facts about Keaton:

He cut his hair just for the casting, as his ex-wife assured him that his normally messy look wouldn't get him a spot on the show.

When he saw on TV what happened with Julian and Julien, a small part of Keaton had hopes that maybe they would open up more slots for other participants, but he didn't allow himself to really think about it until the production called him saying there was a place for him.

Keaton divorced three years ago, but he has an excellent relationship with his ex-wife and her new husband as well.

His greatest pride is his 16-year-old daughter, Lara.

The hardest part of all this has been leaving his beloved horse on the ranch, but Keaton trusts that Lara and Maggie will take care of her in his absence.

[necrotic-nephilim]

back on my bullshit. jaycasstalia (all combinations), cassrose × cheshire, deaddove jaydonna, jaytemis × rose, cass × artemis (that one wfa panel), koricass, jaykori dead dove, jay × jessica cruz

hello welcome back i adore the bullshit. i have to admit that i dislike JayKori and tbh i don't like or know Kori well enough to enjoy any ship with her she just. exists outside of my periphery and isn't the sort of character i'd enjoy. so those i fear i am unable to give thoughts there BUT THE OTHERS-

JayCassTalia is !!! so good? i really like Talia and i've been getting more and more into the al Ghuls so i find that fascinating. i think the respect Talia would have for Cass could almost border on a motherly jealousy, wishing *she* had honed her child into such a perfect weapon. i think CassTalia could be such a fun sort of mother/daughter incest ship of Talia promising to take better care of Cass. and then Jason in the mix is so fun bc Talia rlly shaped Jason for who he is today and i do think she loved him. maybe she loved what she saw of Bruce in him or maybe she loved how he existed outside of Bruce. both work so well. Talia being into both of them and them both falling for the attention of an older woman? yes i love it (also i will one up you with this- JayCassTaliaNyssa. fuck with Talia and Nyssa's complex over each other)

CassRoseChesire is so good from the thought of traumatized daddy issues and all of them being raised to be weapons, not ppl. the solidarity in that combined with feeling like being the only ppl who understand what that's like? it's so good. and it also has such fun conflicts in where they all fall on moral issues. very much a "you don't have to be human around me so stop pretending" sort of throuple and man, the potential in that complex in general. i feel like they'd get cannibalism as a metaphor for love shit.

dead dove JayDonna is VERY interesting, oh my god i never would've considered dead doving Donna. i haven't read a *ton* of comics with Donna but something about Jason expecting her to be a safe person on the Titans he can go to during his very brief period on the Titans and it turns out she's not and she takes complete advantage of him is *so* fun. i like if she's maybe projecting a want for Dick onto Jason too, but she sees Jason as a Robin that she can mold into a better partner than Dick is so this is the even better choice. she gets a blank slate she can make whatever she wants and it's so easy to make him obsessed with her if you lean into the "Jason is a Wonder Woman fan" sort of thing, with her telling all sorts of stories about Diana and promising she'll introduce them someday just to keep Jason coming back around to her.

Jaytemis and Rose truly is a ship that is just "Jason Todd deserves to be torn to shreds by strong woman" and ykw, i support that agenda. i do not think he'd be able to walk half the time but i think he'd enjoy it. i personally enjoy 90s Artemis the most and i think that version of Artemis before DC softened her for Jason could be SO fun oh my god. she would not put up with his shit and would drag him around like a leashed dog. and Rose is a great third for them bc she's also absolutely unhinged and fucked up enough to want Jason on a leash. tbh i see this almost very dark in a controlling with, but that's the fun of it for me. <3

i've not read enough of WFA to know what you're referencing BUT i think CassArtemis could be fun. (tho i hate that one Outlaws comic where Artemis oneshots Cass and calls her a child bc wdym Artemis can oneshot Cass but anyway-) typically i like Artemis and Helena as far as shipping her with a Batfam woman, but there's fun in letting a strong woman look down at Cass and just decide to chuck Cass over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. i think she'd enjoy just how strong of a fighter Cass is. freak4freak but it's sapphic and they're arguing most of the time.

Jason/Jessica is SUPER interesting. i don't know if Jason and Jessica have a ton of interactions in canon? i've not read much of Rebirth BUT i will always love sticking Jason with a Lantern. JayKyle is my personal fave but i'd love to see Jason helping Jessica out of her shell and getting her to be more confident after her trauma. they cope with trauma in very different ways so i find the idea of putting them together sort of fun to see where they'd clash and align. would he scare her? yes but that's the fun of it. fear kink core.

also, i offer you some of my Jason and Cass rarepairs bc i think you would Get It anon:

JasonOnyx (i just wish we got more out of their interaction in UTRH and Onyx should hunt Jason down for revenge and they fuck nasty about it idk)

JasonBette (Bette's whole obsession over Dick when he was Robin, but she's obsessed with Jaybin instead and it carries over when he becomes Red Hood and Jason cannot get rid of her)

CassBarda (all i got out of the current BoP run is "mmm. sapphic size kink.")

[thsc-confessions]

"this fandom is what got me into reading fanfics" submitted by @cyancatart

[theriverpointace]

i feel like i'm reblogging a lot of bmc stuff and like. let me be clear i currently do not listen to bmc or even think about it all that often. i just think you guys have incredible takes and i agree with you.

listen idk what i'm doing. i don't even properly go here anymore. i have different "they're my Little Guys (gn)" nowadays. but my first four mutuals from this site still post about bmc and they're so right about everything they say, yk?? like it's been eight months or something since i listened to the bmc soundtrack, idk what's canon anymore, but if my good friends are going to put all of this delightful fic and art and analysis and all the things onto my dashboard then who the hell am i to not reblog it??

and yeah, there is some creeping suspicion in my mind that everything i see about bmc is some elaborate goncharov-esque thing inspired by the musical which an ever-shrinking attachment to the original. and i adore it. i love it because my friends do. i think everything they say is exactly right honestly. if/when i ever go back to bmc, the music will have all of this fabulous new Lore to go with it that i never could have come up with on my own because it's the result of people who love this objectively poor musical making it into something so much better.

@theabyssgazesalsointoyou, @rising-above-stars, @rad-rat-with-a-tophat, and @lunaryuwu: this is for yall. i love you. i think you guys are geniuses (genii) who have made be more chill into something so much cooler than it used to be. to every other bmc artist, writer, analyst, or other who has helped them and talked with them and been a part of it too, yall are cool too! don't get me wrong! there are so many other Good BMC Blogs i can think of that have added to my current perception of the show and fandom; so many names i see over and over that i don't check out bc simply put, i am not into bmc any more. but abyss, lara, rat, and luna, you guys really shaped it for me. so thanks.

and to other fandom creators, take this as a lesson: even if your source is bad. even if your fandom's insane or scary. even if you're primarily interested in the background characters. you can have an exceptionally fun fandom experience, and you can give one to other people as well. just Go For It. good luck.

[une-sanz-pluis]

The King’s Mother

Did Annie Garthwaite write poorly? I was planning to go and watch it, but some comments said that this Margaret Beaufort close-up is very good and very rare among York supporters

I'll be honest and admit I've not read Annie Garthwaite's The King's Mother in full yet, I've read several sections of the advanced reading copy I got off Netgalley and I've read Cecily, which The King's Mother is a sequel to. The King's Mother is only a good book if you're a Ricardian.

Cecily, I think, worked a lot better because it was about a relatively unexplored area in fiction and pop history and Garthwaite had to develop her own ideas about what happened. By the end, it started to become apparent Garthwaite hews very closely to most of the Ricardian tropes. The narrative of The King's Mother covers the reigns of Edward IV and Richard III so the Ricardian tropes are out in full force now and Garthwaite sticks hard to them. I think Garthwaite writes better than Philippa Gregory and she's slightly more sensible in regards to the witchcraft accusations against Jacquetta of Luxembourg but it's about as feminist as Gregory was. The only women we're meant to like are Cecily and Anne Neville, and Anne's characterisation is "tragically weak and sickly but she has brains so she agrees with everything Cecily says". Richard III is an utterly passive do-gooder who has to be cajoled by his wife and mother into serious action.

From the pieces I've read, Margaret Beaufort is the same old religious fanatic (unlike Cecily who is truly pious) and hypocrite who is weirdly obsessed with her son.The narrative and Garthwaite in her author's notes criticise her for being devoted to her son instead of her husbands (the same criticism is levelled at Margaret of Anjou) which is just blatantly misogynistic to me, particularly when Garthwaite does not make excuses for Edmund Tudor and depicts Henry VI as an extreme misogynist who throws his wife under the bus. Why the hell are we criticising them for not devoting themselves to their husbands who treated them like shit and are terrible people in Garthwaite's narrative?

I don't know what those commenters saw in Garthwaite's Margaret Beaufort that was so good unless it's the fact that Margaret does not kill the Princes in this - but only because Garthwaite follows Matthew Lewis's theory that the benevolent Richard III had them smuggled out to Europe. Garthwaite depicts Margaret as being willing to kill them and then spends some time talking about how utterly heinous she was for it and why Margaret's Damned To Hell because of this.* She is depicted as the lone woman who is able to outmanoeuvre Cecily but, y'know, she's still evil and she can only do it because Cecily taught her everything she knows. I just... look, is the bar that low on the floor that evil girlboss damned to hell but doesn't kill the Princes is actually a good and sympathetic depiction?

* Given Garthwaite depicted Cecily as canonically desiring to secretly give Jacquetta of Luxembourg a non-consensual abortion and willing to "deal with" (i.e. kill) the child Edward of Lancaster, this seems highly hypocritical of Garthwaite and Cecily. But then this is the same author who spends an entire book referring Henry VI with ableist language only to turn around and deliver a chest-thumping screed about the evils of Tudor ableism about Richard III's scoliosis.