#im gonna have to do a full re-through after i re-write this opening of my current 70k words until i can write more ...........

[stvp1dbl00dslvt]

RE2 Leon x Goth M!Reader ☆

⚠️: alcohol use

TW: none (I dont believe)

It was just your typical routine, you went out to one of your favourite shops to grab something before leaving yet unfortunantly you bump into someone, dropping your bag..

He looked up at you immediately and started profusely apologising whilest picking up your things off the ground, honestly at that point you were just a little shocked you weren't yelled at to 'watch it'.. "Im really sorry, I didn't see where I was going.." he mumbled, picking up your things and giving them to you, but before he did he looked right at you and his cheeks lightly glowed red, "Woah your make ups really cool!" He cut himself off, smiling.

You chuckle lightly, finally getting a chance to respond.. "Its fine and thank you- uhh" you didn't know his name regrettably, "Leon" he smiled at you, putting his hand out.. "Leon Kennedy" his smile somehow managed to grow wider, "Im Y/N.." you smile back at him, shaking his hand. After you both dropped your hands he speaks up, "Y/N's a pretty name.. but I wasn't lying about your make up can you do it on me?!" He was like a puppy almost, just so full of energy and so excited you could've sworn you saw a tail wagging behind him.. "Im a bit busy today but I can give you my number?" You smile at him softly, getting a sticky note from your bag and writing your number on it and a little bat drawing next to it.. he couldn't stop smiling and took the paper, putting it into his pocket.

"Thank you so much, you're really cool.." he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly whilest kicking the ground, "Thank you, but I really do need to head off" you chuckle in response, "Im free Saturday." You tell him before walking off and waving goodbye. He kept standing there like an excited puppy, just smiling hard until you were out of his view so he could make his way to where ever he was headed.

Friday.

It was Friday, a day before your next encounter with 'Leon'. You managed to rub the sleep from your eyes since it was around 3am before getting a notification on your phone.. It was a new number and all it wrote was, "Hey its Leon, sorry for the late message:'C Is this Y/N?" 'He uses emoticons? Thats cute' you thought to yourself before replying to him saying that it was fine and that yeah its you.

You kept messaging for awhile just talking about the new remake of the game Evil Residence, you were always a big fan of the originals and turns out so was he. You never thought you'd get on so well with a man you bumped into on the street.. but you could definitely say you were gonna enjoy hanging out with him tomorrow. You found out he was a rookie cop and it was his first day TODAY even though it was already 5 in the morning, you laughed at him and told him to sleep for the next hour just so he can have some sort of energy.. 'Actually texting you has made me pretty hyper so im okay(^w^)'... you re-read the message a few times wondering how to respond, 'doesn't matter! You still need your beauty sleep.' You argued, chuckling on your bed.. 'Finee(╥﹏╥) I'll see you tomorrow:D' he finally agreed, so you both went to bed. You laid there awhile just thinking of tomorrow, smiling to yourself and giggling.. you both kept messaging through out the day when he was on break or just taking a sneaky peek at his phone to see if you'd messaged him, which you always were. You could confidently say you were excited to hang out with him tomorrow, including the other things you both wanted to do.

Saturday.

You both accidently did it again, staying up until 6am calling and messaging.. you agreed he'd come over at 11am with the drinks, you both decided that having a few drinks together and watching a movie would be great.

11:12 am

There's a knock on the door, you already know who it is, you run over to the door and open it, a smile already plastered on you're face. "12 minutes late" you chuckle, staring down Leon sarcastically, "Oh come on, I had to get the very specific whiskey you wanted.. its hard to find!" He laughed at you, holding 2 bottles of Diageo Whiskey whilest you had already stocked up on 3 bottles of Coke. "Diego or whatever it is wasn't easy to find.." he mumbled, walking inside your apartment, you laugh at him before correcting him about the name, "Its Diageo not 'Diego'". After coming in, pouring yourselves a nice mix of Whiskey and Coke you both finally sat down and agreed to watch *Halloween*, Rob Zombies specifically since Leon argued it was the best one, "I love the Halloween movies.." he whispers smiling at the TV, as the day went on and you continued watching more of the Halloween movies before you knew it it was already 9pm, and you both had downed a bottle of the whiskey with only 1 remainder not to mention drunk.. Leon was on the verge of passing put while you were enjoying the movie, you felt a weight shift onto your shoulder.. it was Leon, and he was out cold. You chuckle to yourself quietly before wrapping your arm around him and bringing him in closer.

The movie finished and Leon was still out like a light, you sigh and gently get up.. laying him on the couch and grabbing one of the square pillows and putting it under his head aswell as a spare blanket. You give yourself a quick pat on the back for helping this drunk get more comfortable.

You start to walk off with the idea of heading to bed and checking up on him in the morning.. that was before you felt someone grab your wrist. Leon was still half asleep, mumbling.. "dont.. dont go." His eyes were still shut, and maybe it was the alcohol that made you stay.. you stood there for a few seconds before he pulled you onto the couch with him.. almost immediately wrapping his arms and legs around you with his head digging into your chest.. "Leon?" You whisper, in hopes to not disturb him much.. he grumbled in response, "Do you want me to stay?" You ask again, your eyes drooping due to the long night behind you, he shook his head on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him and laid for awhile before finally falling asleep, with Leon in your arms..

DONE!! IM SO SO SO SORRY FOR NOT UPLOADING OMFG. I MIGHT MAKE A PART 2 IF ITS HIGHLY DEMANDED LMAO:3

[mrghostrat]

ok gamers lets Interact

(answering asks) (bc i get self conscious abt spamming the dash)

@goblin-named-sam: oh my goddd that would be SO RAD!!! i would love to see this, you have my full permission! (and same re: reading everything out loud omg i do that too htphfpt)

also my bestie is the same with human AUs so i completely get it, and am so pleased & proud my work can be considered so in character to bypass that worry. i agree that the 6,000 years of pining, as well as their separation from the rest of humanity, is a massively integral part of what makes aziraphale and crowley. but imo their lil everyday interactions are just as important, like their flow of conversation and all the temptation vs resistance.

so as long as human AUs recreate that dynamic in some way, they can be sooo fun to read. and then you unlock a whole new range of stories for when you get tired of the same/similar End Of The World narrative. it's hard to get it right, especially when writing a completely different medium like twitch chats and discord messages, but soooo rewarding when it lands 😭🙏 thank you again.

@froggyliciouz: thank you so much holy shit!!

Anonymous: i live for this. ur sustaining me. every time i open my inbox and look at this message, more of my age lines disappear

Anonymous: thank you for telling me so! 🥹

Anonymous: dying over all the ppl rereading it even when it's just come out!!!! so freaking flattering i can't even describe <3

Anonymous: it's lil messages like these that i worry im gonna be annoying if i publish them all to my dash but they bring me SO MUCH LFIE i love every single one kiss kiss thank you for messaging me 🥺

Anonymous: oh how naive i was to think that all this positive reinforcement wouldn't make me keep writing at such a desperate speed 😂

Anonymous: I SWEAR I REPLIED TO THIS ONE... well i hope the cards turned out well! i am 100% here for dangling my fic like carrot and string to get you through chores and tasks >B) phase 2 of the plan is getting us all on a healthy sleep schedule

Anonymous: all hail the stream worm 🙇🪱🙇 and you can thank all the tasty comments people are leaving (and asks like this!!) for making me doubly feral about getting new updates out. must--please--the worms--

Anonymous: AYYY THERE YOU ARE I'M SO PROUD OF YOU 🎉 thank you so much for comin on back and sharing such lovely thoughts about my work 😭💛

Anonymous: ty for reading!! so many fics have done the students' reaction to their relationship better than i ever could 💛 but i love it when they're in total shock and maybe don't even believe it at first 😂 adam would definitely think crowley is pranking them at first (but it would also be so sweet if they all started being a little more personable with aziraphale — i imagine that after the trip, they already would, since they got to see this fun snarky side of him. but even moreso once they realise he's their favourite teacher's husband)

@quinnie28: thank you soooo muchhh for recommending it!! some of my favourite all time fics were sent to me by my bestie. very honoured to be read by someone who doesn't usually read wips <333

Anonymous: he'll always be our lil meow meow

Anonymous: I'm so happy i could bring you a lil joy 🥹 lots of love to you

[lordsardine]

.

[tgttos]

THE sbi crit post (reupload)

after the original and the iconicmcytblrposts version both being deleted, i was pretty sure the sbi crit post was gone permanently. thankfully, after a good amount of digging i was able to find an internet archive version, which im posting here for accessability (and because the archive version mentions op by name.)

op has since abandoned their blog, but please, still dont seek them out to harass them. im not posting this as much to mock as i am because i think even dumb fandom history shit deserves to be preserved. this is the full text of the post, minus the requesters url removed by me.

———————————————————————

cw, critical of sbi

as requested by @/[url removed], a SBI critical post. Going from youngest to oldest. None of this is satire, no matter how silly these points seem

TommyInnit

A kid. He is arguably too young to be doing what he does.

Twitch is a site that’s quite adult, even with many streamers being minors, and many of the people watching the streams also being minors. Swearing, sexual jokes, etc. are (if we’re looking at the definition of it) nsfw, and let’s be real, if you can’t have a job, you shouldn’t be probably shouldn’t be engaging in NSFW things. Yes this includes making stupid little sex or penis jokes, since they’re being broadcasted to thousands of people.

Many of his friends are adults and they have to watch themselves around him, which is something they shouldn’t really have to do due to their line of work. They should be able to make shitty sex jokes and flirt with their peers because that’s their job, but around Tommy they can’t. Bonus points for befriending a fucking 32 year old. Remember that one John Mulaney set? Where he talks about how fucking weird Back to the Future is? Sorta the same thing only we know how Phil and Tommy met so not nearly as weird. But still a little weird.

Technoblade

This one was the hardest, and I thought about it for a good bit. Hard to write, but I think I’ve got it.

He is glorifying his ADHD. I know it’s not purposeful. I know ADHD isn’t bad. But by doing what he does open and in the public (just look at the potato war) he is making it seem as if hyperfixation is the Best Way to win something. He spent months holed up in his room, farming potatoes in a block game. 10 year old kids are going to see that. And they’re gonna want to do it too. And it is not good for you

Wilbur Soot

are you gay or not.

We all agree that he’s bi coded (not saying he is, saying that he presents as bi). He’ll, someone on the Projekt Melody LoH straight up called him a “bi-guy”. Because of this he often gets away with his more Home of Sexual jokes, yknow, like the same ones we hold Dream accountable for? Just look at the entirety of him asking Dream on the pizza hut date. Most definitely queerbaiting but we ignore it because he just seems like he’s LGBTQ. Hell, this is where I get my definition of Soy-Boy from; “a man that seems bisexual, so you just kinda assume it and then one day you find out he’s actually straight. The fact he’s straight sits in your mind, but the fact he’s not bi is constantly dancing at the front of your head. There is nothing you can do about this. Also soy-boys have good fashion senses”

ALSO he is fairly open about his political beliefs (re: Piss Speaks Louder than Words cover, calling Sapnap (who at the time was RPing a cop) a pig, calling himself a liberal), and yet he doesn’t say anything about his fans that are racist or such (please just go look through the comments of the Piss Speaks Louder than Words cover. It’s a hell).

Ph1lzA

“Sir that is my emotional support block man!” all the kids with fucking terrible parents say. Trust me, I know because I am one of those kids.

He is an escape for many of us, a father that will always care, a father that won’t hurt us (or in my case, threaten so much I’m afraid to be around him). And Phil is also an unhealthy coping mechanism.

He is “trapped” behind our screens. He can’t actually comfort us. He can’t give you a hug, or ruffle your hair, or anything that a good father could because you don’t know him. You can call him dad in donos. You can ask for life advice. But he’s not your father. And we all need to realize that, I think.

None of SBI is your family. They have family dynamics with each other, but you don’t have family dynamics with them.

[19cb97]

CB's Room 🐺 Ep. 41

Genre: SMUT(ish?), Camboy!Chan

Warnings: shitty writing 100/10, dirty talk kinda, handjob, daddy kink debatable tho, mentions of a blowjob??? I don't know how warnings work sorry,,,

A/N: its SUNNYS BDAY HAPPY BDAY BABY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH IM SORRRY I SUCK AT WRITING THOUGH @starrychannies MUAH

A/N 2: I tried to add the read more three times but my computer won't save the editions please bear with me until I wake up 🤩

A/N 3: hehe i fixed it

(I don't remember who owns the gif sorry sighs)

CB97 is now ONLINE.

"...and I guess that's how I ended up producing music." The boy finished his rant with a cute smile before biting his lip and moaning softly, the pace of his hand going down a little as he rolled his chair closer to the computer, trying to catch on another comment.

You see, for anyone who didn't know how "Chan's Room" worked, it would have been weird seeing the boy talk about his passion for ten minutes straight while jerking off, but for his loyal subscribers shows like this one were the most special. The feeling of intimacy between those who watched him and himself caused him a different kind of excitement.

"Hm... You guys have any more- ¿Am I coming soon? Nah, not yet, don't think so. Just edging at the moment. Anyway, ¿Have any more questions?". Chan had been live for about half an hour now, the head of his cock giving it away as it became redder and redder each minute that went through. "Doesn't it hurt?" some asked, and yes. Of course it hurt, "But that's just part of the fun" Chan would answer.

As much as he understood why some viewers wanted him to end already, it was not on his plans to do so... yet. He wanted to have some fun, maybe tease his subscribers before allowing everyone to cum with him.

Chan loved talking to his followers, anyway, be it about sex, life, space or whatever, and as long as there were no private questions about his personal life, he was fine with answering pretty much anything.

Reading through his comments, he answered a few he found fitting. "How big is it?" Someone said. Chan laughed and winked before answering "Come over and find out.". That way he went on a few minutes until a question caught his attention.

Chan's hand pressed around his cock a little harder, eliciting a moan to slip past his lips once he re read it.

"Wha- What's been my best sex experience...?" He read, stuttering slightly, as he bit his bottom lip, a shaky breath making its way out when his hand moved slower along his shaft. "Well... thats a good one..." The boy chuckled and rolled his chair back once again, letting his viewers have a full view of his naked body. "Uh... There was a girl back in the day... Man, she was one fo a kind..." A breathy laugh found it's way past the boy's lips and his hand halted its movements. "I don't know if I should tell you this... but I'll do anyway, so let's keep it a secret, yeah? Be good and keep this secret for me..." Chan said as a smile creeped onto his face. He took a deep breath before beginning his story.

"So, this girl, we'll just call her... Petal." The young boy gripped his dick from the base while his other hand started rubbing at the tip with his palm, a sigh resonating in the room right before he continued speaking.

"Petal was good, too good for her own sake. She always knew exactly which buttons to press and she had me mad crazy, head over heels for her." The boy bit his lip, his cock twitching in his hand at the memories. "My best experience was definitely with Petal. We were out supposed to just have dinner, yknow? Haven't seen each other in a while... But then I feel how she's touching my leg under the table, and a second later she's also under it undoing my pants..." Chan sighed again, his fist now focusing on the head of his dick as his story went on. "Just imagine, there I was trying to keep my cool, ordering the food, while my babygirl was under the table sucking me off. She was usually really well behaved, and I never found out what went through her head that night, but it was great. Not long after I took her with me to the bathroom and fucked the audacity out of her, if course, I had her bend over all prettily for me, we almost got caught, even... Fuck, she was just stunning. That night was out of this world, guys... Out of this world..."

A loud moan made it past the boys lips, just recalling that night was enough to help him end most times and right now wasn't the exception. Resting his whole weight on the backrest of the chair, Chan's grip tightened around his hard cock and he started jerking off again, while his now free hand started playing softly on his balls. His closed eyes and slightly parted lips making him look angelic, contrary to what the rest of his body gave away. His hair was all messy, some locks already sticking to his forehead due to the sweat, and his cheeks were flushed a pretty red alongside his ears, chest and dick.

It was a sight to behold, and his viewers didn't hold back on letting him know this.

"Daddy looks so pretty" said some, "I can see you throbbing!" said others.

His laborated breathing gave away just how close to release he was as his hand started moving as fast as possible. Rolling a little closer to his computer as to give his viewers a better look, Chan spoke again.

"Fuck angel, daddy's gonna cum so good... So so good..." He finally opened his eyes again looking directly at the camera, a silent reminder of who was in charge "Am gonna cum for you and you're going to take it as the good dirty slut you are. You're gonna take all of it and thank me for it, is that clear? Now cum with me baby, let go..." He spoke sternly but agitated, and after just a few more seconds the boy's hand and chest was painted on white stripes.

Everything went quiet for a second, and then plenty of "Thank you's" and tips started rolling into the chat.

Chan smiled as he watched his computer screen and whirled slightly on his chair. After a few more minutes, he finally said his good byes, and with a last thank you, ended his live.

CB97 is now OFFLINE.

[thequeendesi]

Take A Bow

Title: Take A Bow

Warnings: swearing, cheating, mentions of sex and alcohol ( just a mention ), baby

Pairings: N/A

AU: Grown Up

Disclaimer: i dont own you or the Twilight Saga franchise, i do own the writing.

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Im thinking of making a part 2! If i should lemme know! Also let me know who should be the true love!!

Part2

….

You let out a dry laugh as the scene unfolded in front of you. Now, him doing this to you, didn't surprise you. Hell, Paul was one of the more popular boys in college. Fraternities, parties, alcohol and sex seemed to be the one thing he was known for. When you two first met he totally posed as a good person. However after a couple years, a house and a baby on the way in the up and coming weeks he definitely seemed to have started to drift.

Oh, how about a round of applause, yeah

Standing ovation

Oh, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

"Don't leave! We can talk this out!" Paul chased after you, throwing on his robe. "Talk what out Paul?" You scoffed, throwing a couple of shirts into a bag. "I didn't mean it!" He huffed. "Oh, so you didn't mean to shove your dick repeatedly in her or…?" You looked at him. "If you leave we will never be able to fix this!" He said, exasperated. "Maybe I don't want to fix this."

You look so dumb right now

Standing outside my house

Trying to apologize

You're so ugly when you cry

Please, just cut it out

You tossed your phone onto the old bed. It was yours when you were 16… however you were far from 16. "Paul's outside." Your dad, Charlie, walked into the room. "Of course he is.." You scoffed. "Do you want to see him?" Charlie asked, scratching the back of his neck. Paul moved to where your window was, waving his arms around. You growled to yourself, as you opened the window. "I don't want to see you Paul! We can discuss anything but the child, but it's over between you and me!"

Don't tell me you're sorry 'cause you're not

Baby, when I know you're only sorry you got caught

"Does Paul keep texting you?" Bella asked. "I only answer about the kid." You shrugged, sitting on the Cullen's couch. "Are you and the dog finally done-zo?" Rosalie asked, walking into the room. "'Fraid so." You said softly, pushing your hair from your face. "Least you'll get something out of the relationship." Rosalie said, a sour attempt at trying to make you feel better, but an attempt none the least.

But you put on quite a show

Really had me going

But now it's time to go

Curtain's finally closing

That was quite a show

Very entertaining

But it's over now (but it's over now)

Go on and take a bow

"I really feel bad crashing here." You sighed, however Esme hushed you quick, handing you a sandwich. "Nonsense. You're a sweet girl and we want to help anyway we can." You smiled as you took the sandwich. "You look like you haven't slept a wink." Esme said in a worried tone as she moved behind you to fix your hair into a clean ponytail. "I really haven't." You sighed as you ate some of the sandwich. "Do you have anything for us to do?" Emmett asked, walking over with Jasper. "I still need to grab clothes from the house." You finished the sandwich. "Say less."

Grab your clothes and get gone (get gone)

You better hurry up

Before the sprinklers come on (come on)

Talking' bout'

"Girl, I love you, you're the one."

This just looks like a re-run

Please, what else is on (on)

"Open up, Paul!" Emmett knocked on the door. "What do you need?" The tanned man asked, opening the door. Disheveled and shirtless. "We were sent to get clothes." Jasper said, pushing past Paul, up to the bedroom, completely ignoring the naked woman on the bed. "You never learn do you?" Emmett rose an eyebrow, grabbing a suitcase as they packed it full of clothes. "It's hard to keep your hands off of your real mate. You'd know Emmett." Paul said.

Don't tell me you're sorry 'cause you're not

Baby, when I know you're only sorry you got caught

"Real mate..." You repeated what Jasper said. "I wasn't... you mean… oh my god." You let out a choked sob as you sat on the floor. "Emotions…" Jasper nudged Emmett as they walked out of the room backwards. "Oh dear..." Alice sighed, walking into the room, sitting on her knees next to you. "I assume you've found out something?" She asked, pushing stray hairs from your face. "He didn't love me." You said, the tears streaming down your face.

But you put on quite a show

Really had me going

But now it's time to go

Curtain's finally closing

That was quite a show

Very entertaining

But it's over now (but it's over now)

Go on and take a bow

You leaned your back against the cold wall as you looked forward. "You gonna get out of bed today?" Bella asked, sitting next to you onto the plush bed. "I gotta... I got work." You sighed. "Do you think I'll find my forever?" You asked, halfheartedly. "I think anyone can." She half-smiled at you. "Now you're dead- well, undead, with a husband for life and a daughter. I got a son with no one." You looked at your stomach.

Oh, and the award

For the "Best Liar" goes to you

(goes to you)

For making me believe

That you could be

Faithful to me

Let's hear your speech

"Please. Just hear me out. I couldn't control myself." Paul walked behind you as you walked through the isles of the store. "You slept with her and didn't even have the decency to tell me... for weeks this went on and I can't believe that you had Seth cover for you!" You kept a hushed tone as you turned your back towards him, putting a pack of newborn diapers in the cart. "I can't help that I don't love you the way I love her!" He shouted in the middle of the aisle. "I hate you." You said lowly, pushing the cart to the register.

How about a round of applause

A standing ovation

You sighed. "Thank you guys." You said, sitting on the bed. "No problem. We made the same one for Renesmee when she was born." Carlisle smiled fondly at you as he stood up. "I really appreciate you letting me stay here." You said. "You don't have to thank us. We love having you around. You're good people." He nodded at you. "Carlisle… do you think everything will be alright?" You asked, looking at him. "I know it will be."

But you put on quite a show

Really had me going

Now it's time to go

Curtain's finally closing

That was quite a show

Very entertaining

But it's over now (but it's over now)

Go on and take a bow

But it's over now

[prissypickle]

Ill be talking about my growth over the year. There will be sensitive topics but I want to share what I have overcome.

The past 12 months have been so hard to deal with. But Ive overcome so many challenges

. May 18th I had a major attempt. I was in the pcu for 2 days. I wrote my parents a letter saying that Im going to the hospital to get some help. The last time i ever attempted like this was in 2014. My parents didn’t realize how much I was struggling despite telling them daily.

I was admitted into the psych unit a 3rd time. Those 7-10 days is where you grow so much. The people surrounding you at the hospital is one of the most comforting things. The paitents, (most) staff they are always there for you when it feels like no one else is. Ive been there twice since 2019. Recently ive been considering going back (for a psych eval) due to how the past 5 months have been one event after another

. I was supposed to get out of the psych unit on Saturday but I voluntarily checked myself out as we thought my bearded dragon was going to pass. My mom told the staff not to tell me unless they really thought it was over for him (sloppy writing rn Im crying over how I thought I was gonna lose him) rafiki is my rock. He knows how to calm me down. The staff allowed me to have my phone for 2 hours while I called 20 different vets to find a place to Euthinize Rafiki as that was pretty much the only reason my mom told me. I called for 2 hours and there was only one place that would do it. It was an inhome euthanasia. And I have that numbered stored in my phone. God forbid I need to use it. Its there

. I took him to the vet and we decided that if the antibiotics that we were giving him wasn’t working we would euthanize him. But it worked and my boy is happy and alive.

Things started to get bad again when my sisters boyfriend moved in. I began disociating and maladaptive daydreaming to the extreme.

I relapsed.

But I got back up. Then come January and I decided to open up my shop. @delicate.littlespace.shop its one of the best thing I could have done. I had severe struggles. Etsy started taking me down for copyright infringement because I was selling deco popsocket. They took the whole They took my whole account down because of the popsocket deal. That fucked me up a lot. I was able to get it back once I showed etsy that what i was selling isnt really a popsocket. I just buy it in bulk. I got my account back. But one night I was on Facebook and someone took my photos and put it on a child protective services group. It was the most painful thing ever as it could’ve showed my location full name etc. but they crossed off all my info. Still extremely upsetting. Ontop of my etsy issues. Someone started a roumor saying I support minors in kink so on and they told all my promoters and one left and blocked me without me able to defend my side. So im watching out here and there to make sure roumors aren’t going around about me.

A series of events happened that day. My etsy account got suspended, posted in a cps group, crisis line hung up on me not once but TWICE there were more but that was the main 3. I took 2 days off work. Then the series of events get worse. I dislocated my shoulder. It took 3 months for me to get to see a ortho who just spent 5 minutes with me and told me to go to pt. I was waitlisted on pt. I went and saw a second opinion for my shoulder. Same things. Pt.

I reinjured it severely the other day as I lifted up something that I shouldnt have and I popped my shoulder put of place. I went to urgent care the next day and found out my shoulder was re dislocated, fractured, and deformed. January to April I was in a sling. Then I was out and them on my 2nd I injured it. I was supposed to start PT finally on the 13th but my referrl never went through so I dont know what to do anymore about pt. Im just thinking how this may be a sign that pt isnt gonna help.

With my worsened injury I cant do basic needs. Washing hair, chores, cook, I can barely pull up my pants. Its horrible. I dont wish this on anyone. So Ive been struggling with major hygiene and didnt wash my hair for 2 weeks. Today I finally got it washed and it felt so good. I nearly released the other day but I was able to stop and think. Hey a year ago it would be different. Ive overcome so many things this past year. My life has been 10000years too many. Im just proud of how far I have come and Im finally safely coping. I still have a whole bunch ahead of me but Im finally going in the right direction.

[faroutharry]

You feel, I feel

Hey guys, this is my first Harry writing, sorry if it is really shit, feel free to send me ideas for more writing, im very excited to get into this.

length: 2.7k

---------------- 

Harry’s new album was coming out in less than a week and he was going crazy thinking about how his fans were going to react. “But baby what if everyone hates it?” Harry pouts at me from his spot on the bed, his eyes still puffy and his voice groggy from just waking up. “They aren’t gonna hate it H, they will love it because it comes from you and your heart” I give him a big smile through the mirror across the room. “Hmmmmp” He flops back onto our bed with a big grunt. “Maybe I would be more confident if you listened it to first…” Harry quietly says as he pokes one eye over the duvet. I spin around quickly looking at him as if he has two heads. “What?” He’s using those little puppy dog eyes and staring up at me with hope. “You really want me to listen to it?”

I can’t even begin to explain how tense I feel about his question, On one hand of course I want to listen to it, because he’s my loving boyfriend and he had already told me that there were certain songs that I had influenced. But on the other hand he had also stressed to me that certain songs have been influenced by “other people”. The second he said “other people” like that I knew exactly what he meant, and as heart breaking as it is to me that he has obviously had previous partners, I knew this day would be coming and as selfish as I am, I have been trying to put off listening to the album in fear that I would ruin it for him. I know I’m nothing compared to his pervious relationships and that’s something I need to work through and definitely not something he needs to worry about. Another reason for me avoiding the album is well, I just love him so much that even hearing him talk about his previous pains gives me pain, I can’t even begin to explain how sad it makes me to think that someone has broken his heart like that. Before we started dating we were amazingly close friends, and I cant even tell how many times I walked into his place to hear his strangled cries from shower or his angry yelling in the kitchen. I just want to cuddle him in a big blanket and shelter him from the worry and hurt.

“Of course I want you to listen to it, your opinion is one of the only ones I truly care about baby” He slowly rises from the bed and walks his way over to me, wrapping his hands around my waist and staring at me in the mirror. I try my absolute best to seem as excited as I can be, because I am excited, well for most of the songs. “I would be honoured to hear your album H” I wriggle around in his arms and kiss his lips briefly before hiding my face in his neck. I can hear his heart start beating faster as he says “Really? Thank you so much petal, I can go and get my laptop and show you now if you’re free?” With a pleading look on his face how could I possibly say no? “Yeah sounds good bub”. He runs off without another word into his office.

I try to prepare myself by focusing on my breathing and counting to 10 slowly. By the time I’m done Harry is racing back into the room with his laptop secured in his arms. He jumps onto the bed and pats the spot next to him. I carefully walk back over to my side of the bed and hesitantly get back under the covers, if I’m going to do this I’m gonna be as comfy as possible on the outside, because my insides are going to be a wreck. “You ready baby?” H looks over at me with his childlike grin and I shake my head yes “Just don’t interrupt though, I wanna hear it the whole way through”.  As the intro to Golden starts I breathe in quietly and silently pray it’s not about someone else. Harry stares at me intently as I try not to focus on him right now. I close my eyes and lie down to try to distract him from my anxieties. As Golden ends and Watermelon Sugar starts I start to calm down and juts enjoy his heavenly voice as I know the next 3 songs are ones I have already heard and, from what I think I know, they aren’t based on any ex’s of his. But then Cherry starts…

This is what I was worried about. As soon as I hear her voice I know I’m screwed. My heart is going crazy in my chest and I struggle to keep my tears to myself. I slowly look over to Harry and see that he is staring up at the ceiling and I am grateful he’s not looking at me right now, cause I know he would stop the music and ask me what is wrong. So I suck it up and try to listen to the song over my rapid heartbeat. Hearing him say he misses certain things about his ex is never easy and I swallow down my insecurities and try to focus on the guitars or backing vocals, so I don’t have to listen to the words. Just when I think the gut wrenching song is over, I let out a small sigh of relief. But then her voice fills my ears again, her gorgeous accent and girly laugh flow through me like an alarm, only I can’t wake up from this nightmare because it’s happening in real life.

I look to the computer screen as I now see Harry has also closed his eyes next to me, and see the next song if Falling. If the song title is anything to go by, I think I’m in for a sad time. Harry’s phenomenal vocals distract me long enough to not really listen to the words, but I get the gist and it makes me sink further into my miserable state. I can hear Harry slightly sniffling and so I take that as an okay to silently cry myself. I get through the rest of the songs relatively easy, my heart gets a break during Sunflower Vol.6 and Treat People With Kindness, and right when I think it’s over, Fine Line comes on.

As I’m listening I slowly start to piece things together and realise that, hopefully, this one is about us. Our relationship had a rough start with mixed communication and missed opportunities, but I very clearly remember rocking him in my arms as his drunken tears covered my shoulder, and I repeated the words “We’ll be alright” until he fell asleep in my arms on his kitchen floor. I can’t help the tears flowing down my face anymore and Harry finally notices as I feel his arms pull me onto his chest and he kisses my forehead. As the song fades out I sniffle back my tears and turn to shove my arms around him in a giant bear hug. I push all my feelings aside and look him dead in the eyes as I say the one sentence I know he really wants to hear. “I am so proud of you H”

The next week Harry was super busy leading up to the release of Fine Line and, as I promised him, everyone loved it. His fans were going crazy about it and about a certain song as well, clearly I was not the only one shocked to hear her voice on Cherry. The fans quickly figured out what it translated to in English and though it was a pretty meaningless conversation it still kind of hurt that Harry kept it.

Being the loving supportive girlfriend that I was obviously I played the album around the house, mostly when Harry wasn’t around so that I could skip a few songs to save me the heart ache. But a certain night, when Harry wasn’t due home till late, I was washing the dishes whilst singing to Lights Up and I didn’t hear Harry sneak in the front door. He stood by the doorframe behind me so I couldn’t see the smug look on his face as he watches me sing and dance slightly to his song. When I heard that the song was ending I spoke up. “Alexa, skip 2 songs”. I am a little grateful that I didn’t realise Harry was there cause the look on his face would have shattered me. He slowly turns back to the door with a dejected look on his face. He re opens the front door and shuts it louder in hopes that I will hear it. I turn around with a smile on my face and call out to him. “Hey baby, I’m in the kitchen”. He walks into my line of vision and I can see he looks upset. “You okay H? Bad day?” He shrugs slightly at my question and he quietly states, “Yeah it was alright, I’ll just be in the shower”. His usual loving self is nowhere to be seen and I start to worry. He should be happy, his album is amazing and all his fans love it. So I hurried to dry my hands and race up the stairs after him.

I can hear the shower already running so I open the bathroom door quietly and stick my head in. “H baby are you alright?” I can hear him whimper gently and I waste no time in opening the shower curtain and hopping into the shower fully clothed to hold him. When I do I see he didn’t manage to get his clothes off either and it makes me seriously start to panic because Harry was always the stable one holding me usually. He cries are like daggers to my heart as I plead with him to tell me what’s wrong. “H are you alright? Are you hurt? What’s happened?” He just sobs louder and can’t even get his words out. So I just hold him tightly and slowly try to get him out of his clothes while he cries in my arms. Once I finally get both our clothes off I quickly reached down to plug the bathtub so we can have a bath, because all the crying and water is making it hard for H to breathe.

Once the tub is full, I slowly move Harry down into the water, situating him in from of me so I can wrap him in a giant bear hug. After a while his crying subsides and I ask him again quietly “Harry you wanna talk about it now?” My quiet voice startles him and he slowly lets out a big sigh as he whispers, “I knew this would happen” His voice sounds so broken I just want to take all his pain away. “Baby what are you talking about? What happened?” He gently turns around in my arms so he is facing me. “Cherry” he huffs dejectedly, my breath catches in my throat and I look at him confused. “I know I should of warned you about her being on the song and I swear I was going to I just didn’t know what to say and I know how awful it must have been to hear me sing about her and then hear her at the end and I even…” His rambling is making me confused and he’s starting to speak faster and I can barely understand him towards the end. “H” I try to cut in on his outburst but he can’t even focus on me as I see him start to crumble again. “Harry… Harry!!!” I grab ahold of his gesturing hands and get him to look at me. “It’s fine baby, it was a shock but it’s fine I promise you, it’s a great song”. He looks at me like he knows I’m lying and says, “You don’t mean that” I go to open my mouth to rebut him but I can’t get any words out. “I heard you skip my songs when you were in the kitchen before…” The look on his face makes me hate myself; I quickly shake my head as I feel tears start to escape from my eyes.  “Baby I only skip those songs because it makes my heart hurt to feel you sing with such emotion and pain. I physically can’t listen to you sing about your heartbreak because it breaks mine right back. I can’t even explain to you how mad and upset it makes me that she ever made you feel that way and I don’t ever want you, or me for that matter, to ever feel that way again because my heart can’t take it.” He slowly looks up from the bubbles in the bath to meet my tear filled eyes. “I just love you so much H that I don’t want to ever hear or see you in pain, I swear I think it’s a great song, almost too good, because it makes me feel so emotional” Before I can continue Harry cuts me off with a kiss so deep I cant even think straight. He slowly leans back and pulls me on top of him so im straddling his hips. His hands move around my waist as I grab hold of his neck. I can feel all our love in this kiss and even though both of our tears and some snot is mixed in, it’s the best kiss we have ever shared.

As I pull away, I look into Harry’s eyes and I see his smile start to come back as he kisses my forehead before I place my head onto his chest. And for that moment we just sit there in a comfortable silence and bask in out love. After a while I slowly pull myself up out of bath and with my pruned fingers I grab ahold of Harry and help him out of the tub too. We both dry off and get each other into our pyjamas. As we both get in bed we lie facing each other and I give him a small nose kiss as I say “ H, I so sorry I didn’t tell you about your song, I didn’t wanna upset you about it because its only my opinion, not every ones” Harry pulls me into his chest as he rests his head on top of mine. “I know baby it’s okay, I just love you so much that I couldn’t stand you hating my songs, I know it sounds stupid but I just adore you and your opinion is so important to me, and I know I should of told you about her but I knew it would make you upset and I promised myself I would never do that” I can feel his tears falling onto my head and I lift mine up to look at him. “I just can’t live without you petal and I couldn’t stand to see you mad at me, I’m so sorry” I kiss his tears away and then plant one on his lips before I say “I love you too much H, you could never say or do anything that would make me want to leave, and I know how pathetic that sounds but I just think you’re my soul mate and I couldn’t live without you either baby” His eyes spew more tears, this time of happiness and his grin spreads to his cute little dimples. “Just incase you were wondering Adore You and Sunflower are about you, about how happy you make me and how you make me feel.” I smile up at him with a shocked look on my face; a cheeky grin spreads across my face as I giggle to him “What? You mean Watermelon Sugar isn’t about me?” Hearing his infectious laugh warms my heart and he starts tickling my sides. “Of course its about you petal, im addicted to your taste you know that” And with that he starts sucking on my neck making me laugh as his prickly bread tickles me. I may never be able to go back in time and un-break Harry’s heart, but I can always ensure it doesn’t happen again.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS!!! LOVE YOU ALL VERY MUCH, IF YOU COULD PLEASE SHARE THIS OR LIKE IT, IT WOULD MEAN ALOT TO ME!!!! Don’t forget to send me ideas pleaseeeeee!! :) 

[arthurflecksgirl]

Hi sweety!🥰 could you please develope a prompt where x reader goes to Arthur's apartment for a coffee (they're only friends maybe?) and then she forgot her sweater (🥺) by him. so the next day he goes to her apartment to bring the sweater back to her. And idk if you want to add some cuddles or a cold weather and a warm tea🥺🥺🥺 thank you so much

Oh sweetheart, your request warmed my heart and it was so much fun to write it.  You know I have a weakness for sweater stories when it comes to our sweet Artie.Thank you so much. I really really hope you like it.

Pressing that elevator button felt different, knowing that you wouldnt go into your own apartment but ringing the bell on Arthur`s door. You knew each other since you moved into this building a few months ago but it took you weeks to finally make the first move and talk to him.

Arthur was a very shy man with intense eyes and a beautiful smile, which was hiding so much pain. You could tell from the way he was making jokes that he was sad. He was the kind of person who wanted to make others happy because he couldnt find happiness himself. Observing his loneliness made you sad. It hurt you to see that a wonderful man like him was all alone. Every since his mother was commited to Arkham state hospital he lived a lonely life in his dark apartment. Sometimes you could hear him laugh through the walls. It was a different kind of laughter, almost like he was in pain. One day he started laughing out of the blue and he handed this card to you, which said something about a condition. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he was too shy to interact with people. You have never seen him with someone else. Being his only friend felt special. Thats what you were. Friends. At least you thought so. Arthur never showed any kind of interest in being more than that. He was always very friendly, awkwardly shy and incredibly sad. Even when he was funny. Especially ehen he was funny.

You walked down the halls with a racing heart. You fell hard for this beautiful, sad soul. Just the thought of meeting up with him for a coffee made your knees weak. If only he knew if you were in love with him. But how could you vere tell him without risking his freindship? Maybe he prefered to be alone. Arthur always seemed like he could be scared away easily and you didnt wanted to. Just sitting beside him on his couch, feeling his presence was a gift. You could never risk to lose that.

Meeting up for a coffee after work was something you used to do pretty often now. Sometimes he would take you to the donut shop, even though he never ate one, but this time he invited you to come over to his place. Which felt so much more intimate.

You took a deep breath as you rang the doorbell.

"Coming" Arturs soft voice sounded like he was already smiling.

He opened the door. His brown curls matched his worn out chestnut sweater. A cigarette was tugged between his thin lips. He looked tired but his natural beauty was almost hurtful.

"Hi Y/N." his smile exposed his crooked tooth, which reminded you of how many nights you yearned for him to kiss you.

"Hey Arthur. I`m sorry I´m a bit late. I had to work longer today. "

"Its fine. I mean...I won`t go anywhere. I`m....here..." for a brief moment there was an awkward silence between the two of you. Then he turned around "Sit down...I mean....." he ran his fingers through his hair, appearently nervous ".....make yourself at home. I`ll make some coffee."

He headed into the kitchen while you sat down on the couch and took off your sweater.It was cold outside.Gotham city wasnt very pleasent during wintertime. The cold easily managed to get to your bones.

It was the 3rd time you every sat here. The fabric was old and faded, yellow and blue pillows decorated the corners. Along with  flowery and green sheets. Everything smelled like him. The scent of passion and romance. You always imagined Arthur to be a very romantic lover. The thought of that made you blush while he came back from the kitchen to hand you a hot cup of coffee.

"I`m sorry I only have these self made Murray Franklin show cups to offer you. Kinda embarassing." He took a sip of his own cup which looked exactly like yours , except for the handwritten letters looking a bit more shaky.

You turned the cup in yor hands "I think thats pretty sweet actually. Making your own cups of your fave tv show".

Arthurs eyes pierced you while he took another sip. The color of his eyes was everything.

"Yeah?"

"Sure!"

"You`re the only one who thinks so" he lit himself another cig and took a deep drag. His eyelids fluttered for a second. Details. details everywhere. Arthur was like a museum of details.

"My mother thought it was stupid. She said it reminds her of the fact that we dont even have enough money to buy the real cup."

You gave him a serious look "No, I really think its a creative thing to do. You are a creative guy."

His face lighted up "You think i´m crative? "

"Sure. You do write your own jokes, right?"

"Mhhh hmmmm, yeah"

"See? Very creative."

"Maybe I am" Arthurs left leg started bouncing and you caught yourself thinking how nice it would be to place your hand on his knee and make it stop by calming him down. You imagined how the fabric of his blue pants would feel under your fingertips. Or his naked skin...

Arthur sat close beside you, yet not close enough for his knee or arm to touch yours. You thought about how you could possibly touch him by accident. Feeling the fabcric of his clothes or his bare skin stroking yours was all you could think about.

He put the cup back on the table and looked at you in a way he never did before. His eyes focused you without blinking. Like the shyness within him was gone for a brief moment. You tried to mirror his stare, but it was impossible to look into his eyes without fighting  the urge to grab his face and kiss him. So you focused on the curl that was dancing in his neck instead. Not a good idea as well. Looking at this vulnerable part of his body only made you yearn for more.

You caught yourself looking away, which made you hate yourself. How could you possibly turn your head away when he was finally looking at you like that?

"You`re a party clown right?"

Arthur finally blinked "Yeah."

"I`d love to see some of your acts some day"

"I also do stand up comedy. Maybe you`ll come to Pogos when I perform next week?"

"Ohh Arthur, I would love that" and all of te sudden your hand was resting on his thigh. Arthurs muscles twitched under your soft touch. Like he wasnt used to being touched at all.

His smile said more than a thousand words "Wow, thats great news. I would love to see you in the audience. I will try to give my best performance for you. You know what Y/N? I´m gonna write a joke especially for you. Would you like that?"

Your hand was still on his leg. Touching him was magical. Like your hand was always supposed to be there. You nodded. Unable to say a word.

He looked at the back of yor hand like he couldnt belive that someone was actually resting his hand on him. You could tell from his eyes how touch starved he was.

All of the sudden Arthur got up. Your hand falling off his leg felt wrong.

"So I think I better work on that jokes now." he mumbled while he headed to his desk.

Right now? You felt the disappointment rising in your heart. He wanted you to leave?

"They better be good if you`re gonna be a part of the audience!" he added.

"Okay Arthur. It was nice to have a coffee with you. Im sure your new jokes will turn out incredibly funny.""

He smiled his sweetest smile while he grabbed the pen, looking like he was already about to concentrate.

"You know, I wrote this joke last night but I havent figured out the punchline yet. Punshlines are important. And facial expessions. I feel like I always get them wrong. And I have to look into peoples eyes more often."

"Sounds like a great plan, Arthur. "

"Thank you Y/N. I`m trying. I really do."

"I know"

"I want my stand ups to be good enough for the big clubs." he pressed his journal to his chest.

"I`m sure some day you will be well known. Everyone will  know the name Arthur Fleck and think of a grea comedian".

You noticed his eyes watering as he walked you to the door "Even kids?"

"Sure?"

"That would be sweet"

You wrapped his arms around him as you said our goodbyes "So, I`ll see you next week at Pogos?" he asked.

"Definitely!"

Your hug felt a little too tight for being just friends and you hoped he didnt noticed.

It felt a little too long too, but you couldnt help but trying to get a nose full of the smell of his soft curls.

Arthur looked after you before he closed the door behind him.

You walked down the hallway to get to your own apartment and immediately missed him.

Twenty minutes later you found yourself lying on your bed, realizing that you forgot your sweater on his couch. Should you gt over and  get it? You decited not to. He porobably was working on his jokes right now and you didnt wanted to bother him. So instead of visiting him one more time you just disappeared under the blanket and dreamed of him for the rest of the night.

The next day felt like a fever dream. Fantasizing about Arthurs lips and hands for the whole night left you with a strange feeling in your chest. Was it wrong to think of him that way? You thought about your sweater and how it was lying in Arthurs apartment for the whole night. You wondered if he left it lying on the couch and if he was still sleeping on the couch now that Penny was at the hospital? You couldnt concentrate while working at all. Your beautiful neighbor filled your mind with so many questions and daydreams. Daydreaming about him became something that helped you to get through the day. Just thinking of him chuckeling made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, like nothing could harm you anymore.

This man was magic.

And you wanted him so bad.

Somehow the day passed by like every day does and you found yourself alone in the bathroom, looking at the mirror, wondering if you were even his type of girl. You had no idea in what kinda girls he was into.

And just as you started wondering someone knocked at your door. Was it possible...?

You nervously hurried up to open it.

It was him.

Arthur was standing in front of you, holding your sweater in his hands.

"Hi Y/N. I dont know if you noticed but... you forgot your sweater yesterday and I didnt wanted to bother you and...."

"Ohhh Arthur. Thats so sweet of you. Yeah I noticed. Thank you."

You could swear that he was about to blush.

"You wanna come in?"

Arthur nodded while he stumbled through your door.

"Make yourself comfy, I am right back" you smiled as he sat down in the living room.

You disappeared in the bathroom, pressing your face into your sweater to see if it smelled differently. It did. There was a hint of Arthurs cologne on it. His flowery shampoo and the smell of smoke. Your sweater smelled like him.

You buried your face deeper into the fabric and breathed in.

It was your piece of clothing but it felt like it was his. Breathing in the scent that was so him was the most intimate moment of your entire life. Was that what it feels like to fall asleep in his arms? To cuddle with him on the couch while watching his fave comedy shows on the screen? Was that what he smelled like under his clothes? His bare skin? Was that the scent that would surrowd you while making love to him?

Your thoughts went all over the place while you rubbed the fabric against your blushing cheeks.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

Arthurs voice woke you from your daydreams "Oh, yeah sure. Just got to use the bathroom. I´ll be right back"

"Okay! "

A minute later you sat beside him on the couch, the sweater still in your hands.

Arthur stared at it. His hands lay on his lap while he played with his own fingers.

"I have to admit something" he said "It`s so embarrassing. I dont even know how to tell you...."

"You can tell me anything, Arthur"

"There is a stain on your sweater now. It was me. I`m so sorry. I ruined it. Its face paint. I still got it on  my fingers after I cleaned my brushes. " he showed you the spots where he stained it.

Traces of him.

This somehow made you very emotional.

Its was his sweater now.

Through and through.

"Thats okay, Arthur. Dont worry. I dont mind."

"Really?" he seemed surprised.

"I dont mind at all !"

He shrug "Well there is another thing.... after I noticed you forgot your sweater on my couch... there was a reason I didnt came over to hand it to you last night. Its so embarrassing, oh my god..."

You giggled "Okay? Why didnt you?"

"I....put it on" Arthur buried his face in his hands "Sorry, dont hate me. Please. I put your sweater on and I slept in it." His legs started to bounce.

You coudlnt belive what you just heard. That was the cutest thing you could have imagined.

"Arthur,really? You slept in my sweater?"

He exposed his face.

"I know...I know....its...I`m sorry. Now you must think I`m a total freak or a stalker or something." He looked down on the floor, way too shy to look you in the eyes while he started to bite his nails.

"Actually I think thats pretty cute." you chuckled. The blood was rushing to your face. This man really got under your skin.

"What? Are...are you serious? You´re not mad at me? You dont think i´m a freak?"

"I could never think you`re a freak. I´m glad you told me. Now I`m going to tell you something much more embarrassing, okay? So you see that you are not the only one."

Arthur gave you an insecure look "Okay?"

"When I was at the bathroom before, I sniffed my sweater because I hoped it would smell like your apartment."

"I`m sorry if it smells like smoke now."

"Noooo not because of that! I wanted it to smell like... you!"

Arthurs eyes filled with love "You mean...."

You nodded as your eyes watered "I`m in love with you ever since I saw you for the first time. I just didnt knew how to tell you."

Arthur fell into your arms "Me too Y/N. Oh god.....me,too."

You pulled him closer. You never noticed how tiney he was in your arms. How fragile.

"Why havent you told me?" you asked him, while his face was buried in your neck.

"I didnt wanted to boter you. People often feel bothered by me. They think I`m weird. I was glad you even talked to me. Those short coffee breaks meant the world to me."

"Artie, this is just....I`m speechless."

He chuckled, now facing you "You just called me Artie".

"I know. Thats what I called you in my head all the time".

"I could get used to that" he smirked, which made his lip scar show even more intense.

"I cold call you Artie all night if you want to stay. " you whispered into his ear.

"I would love to. I mean its cold outside and some cuddles and warm tea would be nice..."

"Or some kisses" you added.

"Or some kisses....." Arthur turned his face to the left and put your face between his gentle hands.

His lips on yours felt even better than in your fantasy.

His taste filling your mouth was all you ever wanted.

And as you both fell into the pillows  you buried your face into his curls and took a deep breath of Arthur Fleck.

@impulsiveclown @ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokerownsmysoul @missjoker96 @arthurskitten @lynnesm @nonnymousse @gwynplaine89 @damnrightobsessedwithim @sgtsavoytruffle  @duhliriouss @sadjesterautumn @therealjokerking10 @flowerglitterwoman @thirstforfleck @spookyhome @iartsometimes  @you-cant-cry-in-here @bustafatclownnut @jokerismyhubbie @jokerflecker  @check-out-this-joker @darknessisafriend  @nicoleverse @mdme-rosary @arthurhappyclown    @neon-umbrella-for-stella   @cherrymoon75 @call-me-harley-quinn  @arthurjokersgirl

[boywivlove]

| Title | Lost My Way |

| Pairing | Min Yoongi x Reader

| Word Count | 1K

| Genre |  Pianist AU, fluff, slight romantic moments, slight angst

| Summary | Min Yoongi was a rising prodigy in the pursuit of his career as a musician, but after a car accident his hands are left with severe injuries. It takes years for him to find his way again, and he will never give up his dream, no matter what life throws at him.

| Warnings | descriptions of accidents and injuries.

| AN | My second drabble for the `BTS Bingo Collaboration` with `ficswithluv` and I’m really glad to get this out!! Im going to be posting a lot more drabbles in the weeks to come !

----- “Even if Im slow, I will walk with my own feet Because I know this path is mine to take. Even if I go back, I will reach this path Eventually  I will never   I will never lose my dream” ----

If you asked Min Yoongi before graduation, where he thought he would be in two years, it wouldn't be here. He would have answered that he would have liked to be training with the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra, having been offered a place with them straight after graduation. He never could have guessed he would be sitting in a physiotherapy clinic , his hands barely able to hold a pen, all because of a head on collision with a drunk driver. But fate has a weird way of messing with people's lives, doesn't it? 

He hadn't always liked piano, in fact, up until he was 15, he had never touched a key. Yoongi had grown up streetwise, not classically trained. But during a summer school program, he thought what the hell and took it as an elective. It was either that or track… no thanks. Yoongi was quick to learn how to play, his teacher noting that he was the quickest student to learn the ins and outs of playing. After he had been given the confidence to play, he had started to pride himself on his dedication to his skills, and to have it taken away from him because of one stupid, selfish ass hole… it burned him. It made him angry. He was supposed to make something of his life, to be recognised for his skill and get off the streets. 

The crash happened one night in June, he had stayed late to practice for his upcoming exam. The driver sped right through a red light, and right into the front of Yoongi's car, he couldn't remember exactly how he got to the hospital, but they said he was lucky to be alive, his head had been split open upon impact, his face and body had been scraped by the glass from the windshield. But the injury that he felt the most were his hands, severely impacted by nerve damage, when he first woke up he had thought they had been amputated, not being able to feel them at all. The doctors had said there was a 40% chance he would be able to control them again, but it wasn't 100%. And to Yoongi, that wasn't enough.

“How are you feeling Yoongi?” He didn't look up to address you, but he nodded his head in acknowledgement. You were the newest in a string of physiotherapists assigned to help Yoongi try and work through his injuries. The others Yoongi had driven away from his outbursts of anger. You were younger than the others, only a year or so older than him, and he had to admit you were pretty to look at. And you hadn't asked for a replacement therapist for him yet, it had been 6 months and you still stayed with him. Yoongi was grateful, even if he had a hard time showing it.

It wasn't that Yoongi didn't want to get better, he wanted nothing more than to be able to use his hands again, but at the same time, he was tired of trying and getting nowhere. He was angry. 

He hated that what happened happened to him, after he had worked too hard to get to where he was. He would never, ever get an opportunity like that again, it wasn't just his slot in the symphony and his ability to play he lost, his friends, he had eventually pushed them away one by one. He couldn't stand the sympathetic way they spoke to him, giving him advice they found on google on how he could get his hands back to the way they were. What the fuck would they know about anything. The only person he seemed to open up with was you, you didn't push him, but you did challenge him to do the exercises. 

The therapy was slow, infuriatingly so. It was like no matter what he did or how much he tried, he was incapable of the simplest of things. His writing looked like chicken scratch, he would barely grip onto anything without dropping it, even getting dressed took twice as long and made his hands ache, 

“You've made some great progress in the last year, I know it's not as much as you want it to be, but progress is progress.” 

It was a slow process, painstakingly slow. But after months of you challenging Yoongi with the physiotherapy, Yoongi could finally see some progress. He could write his name in a somewhat presentable way, he could fully grasp anything without it aching, but he would hold things slightly. It even hurt less to button up his shirt in the morning. You were so proud of Yoongi for sticking at it and trying as much as he can muster. The whole reason you took this job was to help people get their lives back on track, and to see Yoongi smile when he was able to do something with his hands made it all worth it. 

You had decided to pay Yoongi a visit today instead of being cooped up in the clinic for hours, there was no reason you couldn't do his exercises at home afteral. Yoongi had given you a spare key to let yourself in, and had told you the flat number that was his. You had brought him some lunch from a bakery you remember him saying was his favourite place to go after practice. 

Fiddling with the key in the lock you made your way inside and set the lunch on the kitchen table. You heard a soft off key melody being played in the next room, re must have not heard you enter. Making your way slowly to the door, you spot him sitting at his piano, his hands tentatively playing the keys. You could see the concentration that was etched onto his features, and the shaking of his hands. It was a serene moment that you loved to see with him, but it was cut short when you heard another off key moment, and his hands slammed into the keys, causing him to cry out. You rushed over to where he was in an instant, afraid he had hurt himself, he seemed to only then notice you as he let you inspect his shaking hands.

“You know better Yoongi, no straining your muscles!” You look over his hands, gently turning them over in your own.

“Whats the point of trying to get better if Im NOT getting better, what the fuck am I suposed to do! I'm no closer than I was when all this shit first happened!”

Your heart went out to him, it really did. You knew Yoongi's background from your little conversations during your sessions. You knew where he'd come from and how hard he'd trained and worked for this chance.

“That's not true, you've made great progress, a year ago you couldn't even pick up a pen, let alone play the piano like you just did . Yoongi I know it's hard, but a big part of recovery is the patience and time you put into it. It's not an overnight thing. You know that..”

He said nothing, just breathing through the numb feeling he now felt in his hands. He nodded slowly and looked up at you, your hands still holding his own. 

“What if it never goes away… Y/N what if everything I've worked for can never come true, and I'm stuck with a bunch of what ifs for the rest of my life….”

“Is that what you're most afraid of?”

He nodded, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I've worked so hard… I've put so much energy into this, I can't imagine doing anything else…”

“Yoongi, I know you can do this, you just need to give it time. And I know you're gonna get back on your feet, and you're gonna get over this… you've just got to give it time.” 

He was nervous. He was so fucking nervous. It had taken him years after the accident to get here. Watching just off the stage as the audition before he finished up, he was good, his melodies were flawless. Yoongi had to commend him on his steady hand. Looking at his own, he was full of doubt. He wasn't sure he would be good enough to do this audition. 

He walks out in a daze. The nape of his neck started to feel hot. He introduces himself, and he takes his place on the bench. He swallows, and looks out to the crowd. It was then he saw you enter quietly, taking a seat in the empty isle. You came. He suddenly thought of everything you'd said to him through his recovery, the promises of staying by his side, the encouraging smiles when he started practising again. Even when his sessions were over, you still stayed in touch with him and encouraged him even more. It wasn't until the judges panel motioned for him to start that he gave his hands a small squeeze.

Life hasn't been easy for him recently. Everything had changed for him. It was a slow process. But he's here, he made it. 

One step forward, two steps back. He'd never lost his ambition, it was just buried under fear and doubt. But now, he was ready to reach his dreams, and he had you as his light in dark times to guide him.

[wolf-stark]

You ask I deliver — both tfatws asks in one!

tfatws weekly ask 1

i finally saw ep1!! i wont be able to see ep2 until thursday at the earliest but i already have some Thots on this ep. here are the ones I remember

first is, and i'm so sorry for this, a grammar lesson. an appositive is when you stick an additional phrase in between commas, dashes, or the like. i actually just used one! the "and i'm so sorry for this" in the first sentence of this paragraph is an appositive. thing is, most english speakers don't normally use them when they speak, only in writing. so i'm always on high alert whenever i hear somebody in tv or movies use one. (it's generally a marker of bad screenwriting). anyway there was one right in the beginning of the episode. the white army guy yelling at sam wilson said "first lieutenant Torres, our intel officer, will be helping on the ground." yeah so. the writing of this series started out on the wrong foot for me. but the rest of the episode was obviously tons and tons better (every interview i see with malcolm spellman makes me love him more and more)

the contrast between the opening minutes (falcon action sequence) and the rest of the ep.... i would 100000/10 rather watch a series with just sam and bucky dealing with life. i dont give a single crap about the flag-smashers or any of that. i just want sam, sarah & fam getting their boating business back on the ground & yeeting racist dickwads, bucky going through therapy and making amends, sam and joaquin being bros, sambucky homoerotic tension, etc.

the cinnamontography! wandavision mostly used cinematography to signify era n stuff. tfatws doesn't have wv's premise to go off of, so here's some tricks i noticed:

with sam there's obviously all sorts of shots with the captain america iconography next to his face, but he hasn't totally claimed it. there's the mural of steve rogers in the background; there's sam staring into the shield like it's a spectre of steve's face; there's sam looking into the exhibit, the shield and sam separated by glass and a layer of camera focus. steve is a constant spectre, always there, an idea, a symbol himself. sam's relationship with this iconography is distanced. he is separated by glass exhibit walls. by painting canvases. he doesn't yet feel worthy to take on that iconography. this whole thing was pulled off quite well but also a bit on-the-nose if only in quantity. there's just sooooo much fancy iconography stuff

speaking of the exhibit, there's something that i get real pissy about. it's when like, there's an action going on you're supposed to be paying attention to but the cinematographer is like,,,, hey! check out this location! or this headline! or something! there was a lot of that in the exhibit. the camera was like, you could focus on sam and rhodey's convo (which was fine but could have been so much better with an extra like 10 minutes of deep character study talk) but noooo you want me to look at the symbol for the united nations and read all the text about bucky who hasn't even showed up yet. shut up i know the lore and ill watch the shot-by-shot breakdown yt vids you don't have to make the shot this long jkdsalcjklasejf

my fav trick was with bucky and the therapist. i had seen a clip of the scene with bucky and the therapist beforehand and i thought the cinnamontography was super obnoxious, but then i was like, oh duh. the shots frequently change the distance between the camera and its subject. sometimes it's uncomfortably close and sometimes it's really far. a clear allegory for the duality of therapy, esp for bucky! therapy is an invasive process wherein he is ruthlessly examined, picked apart, and berated for his trauma (this therapist is crap in every way btw, "mean therapist" works for greg house and greg house only). so the camera goes close. it makes the viewer claustrophobic like bucky. but when he's like "no i haven't had any nightmares" the camera suddenly goes really far. we see bucky as this tiny head in the center of the bottom of the frame. we are distanced from him. he has pushed us away. we cannot see him. he lies because he is vulnerable. so yeah, amazing work there. the therapy scene was hard to watch on purpose!

did bucky slip a note to yori inside the dollar bill? bucky stop making me emooooo. the suuper awkward fake smile has me 😭 (veteran trying to adjust!)

mark my worrrrds when sam asks someone y the govt picked john “white bread” walker they’re gonna say “we needed somebody everyone can get behind....someone uncontroversial, someone everyone can see themselves in” like that exact racist dog whistle

tfatws weekly ask 2

just saw ep2 so im taking advantage of the 2 seconds i can be on tumblr without worrying about tfatws spoilers before new episode drops

when isaiah said "your people put me in prison for being a hero" and bucky thought "your people" means hydra. 🤦‍♂️

speaking of racism, the interplay between sam being Black (anti-Black racism) and sam being the Falcon (negrophilia, "can i take a selfie w you as i deny you a loan?") and the intersection between the two (j*hn lichrally called sam "steve's wingman"! he takes the crypto out of crypto-racist in like 2 seconds!) !!!!!!!! a Black celebrity's Black experience, the separation of man and identity!!!! (thinking about vanessa bayer in snl in that skit "beyonce is black" telling her black friend "you're not black, you're...my girl!")

after sam gets racially profiled by cops we see j*hn standing in front of cop cars cinematic parallels turns out j*hn is racist who knew

this therapist sucks major ass but she got bucky and sam together in the same room and ready to collaborate...that's something ig. it was lichrally couple's therapy she said she used her miracle exercise with couples sambucky antis get blended

bucky says "he was wrong about you so maybe he was wrong about me"...that's not how people talk. when therapist asks bucky, the guy who doesn't talk at all about himself, "y do you hate sam", the last thing bucky's gonna do is actually connect his hatred of sam to his own self-worth issues. bucky generally refuses to talk about himself, so why would he talk about himself in the one context that nobody ever links back to their own neuroses: hatred of other people? one thing human beings hate most is admitting we're wrong. admitting you hate someone because of your own issues? that's a major therapeutic step. bucky would absolutely have to be prompted to do that. even like one or two lines of dialogue more would have set up that line better. but in terms of the actual thought? an amazing way to take the sam/bucky relationship. bucky bases his self-worth on steve believing in him, and if steve is wrong bucky has no self-worth, so 1) he has to develop self-worth disassociated from steve's assessment of him and 2) he has to love himself before he can love sam, and 3) he has to realize that sam giving up the shield is a sign of sam's humility not his unworthiness.

conversely, we don't get into why sam hates bucky? yeah sam has the right to hate a guy that has tried to kill him (albeit while brainwashed) multiple times, and now shows up in his life just to bash him but. everything happens so fast i cant follow their relationship

in fact i dont feel like i understood much of anything. like y did bucky and sam go on that mission together? how connected are sam/bucky/joaquin with the government? doesn't bucky just want to retire now? literally what is everyone doing/feeling and why???

if battlestar becomes a knowing commentary on the black best friend stereotype i'm gonna party, but i dont expect much of that

the interplay between man and symbol. captain america is obviously a symbol. the shield is obviously a symbol. but steve rogers? the. man behind the cowl? he too seems to become a symbol. a paragon of a good guy, so good he's unreachable. steve was just a guy stop idolizing him the last thing steve would want is to be idolized

as the resident musician/music nerd on mcublr, 1) that captain america rally music slaps, but 2) re: the song at the end of the ep, if you're just gonna rip off mozart's lacrymosa then at least play mozart's lacrymosa. we wont blame you the lacrymosa slaps (if you dont know what im talking about go on yt and search it up youll recognize it fo sho

look i love enfys nest as much as the next guy but if tfatws is gonna get erin kellyman to play another innocent little gurl blackmailed into the fakeout-villain position (her text seemed to suggest as such) then 😡 like why can't women just....be evil? young, freckly, innocent-looking women? girls are not untouchable pure objects but full of rage and resentment just as much as anyone can be

bonus ep1 comment: bucky says about that senator whose car he hijacked, "she continued to abuse the power i gave her." fictionaldarling on yt say that he says "i" because he can't disassociate himself from his winter soldier persona which begets endless and senseless guilt. like dude. can i not be emo for like 1 second.

OKay. First off, as much I enjoy your sending it to me, what made you decide to send me these??

-

TFATWS WA #1

Don't worry about getting this to me as early as possible. I usually don't watch the episode right away.

1. Cool writing lesson.

2. Everyone wants a comedy show [like Friends] about the MCU superheroes.

3. Cinematography is always a beautiful thing.

4. Sam definitely has to carve his own Captain America status for himself, outside of Steve's ya know everything.

5. They have to do that for people who was just now tuning in because they're in love with Sam Wilson or Sharon Carter.

6. I think the therapist was taking a 'tough love' approach for Bucky, because she likely has some very strong opinions about the literal assassin she's been assigned to give therapy too. She did not choose to talk to him, she was assigned that make that clear in the second episode.

And, Bucky isn't lying when he said it wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a nightmare, it was a resurfaced memory. So, technically he wasn't lying - and yes, the camera does move away because while he's saying he didn't have a nightmare, he's not expanding on what actually happened - so, he's still pushing the therapist/us away.

7. Bucky, and Steve, have/had a TON to adjust to.

8. Yeah, I agree that will be the bullshit line they give. If they ever actually talk about it.

TFATW WA #2

Yeah, always got to take advantage of avoiding those spoilers lmfaoo.

1. Honestly, that line was double meaning. Both about White people and Hydra [which is made up of mostly white supremacists/nazis] So, the line is gesturing to both White People in general and Hydra assholes together. I think the terminology is “double edge sword”??

2. This whole paragraph structure confused me, ngl - so I'm going to answer it the best I can. I do like that they're not ignoring the fact that Sam being Black is 1000% the reason he's not the Official Captain America - because the gov't is racist as hell.

I also like the little lines about how they point out little things about Sam's Falcon persona, like that kid calling him 'Black Falcon' specifically and Sam's response show the split between Sam and Falcon itself.

John is a dick for calling Sam the wingman of Steve Rogers. Sam was a hero all on his own before Steve asked him to join up again. [Side note, it's lichrally??]

3. Exactly, the parallel of Sam being profiled and surrounded while just on the street and John being surrounded by fans and being able to spring Bucky with apparently only a few sentences shows a Loooooot

4. Honestly, at this point I wonder if she's not actually a therapist and is just an agent assigned to assess Bucky outside of an Official Building. I do know, however, that her 'look at each other and speak' exercise is actually a real therapy practice. It's just a little slower.

5. Actually, I think he would've blurted that out. That whole line. I don't think Bucky hates Sam. I think they could've done the scene better, but I think that had Sam prodded him/the therapist been more annoying Bucky would've lost control of his emotions and blurted out the whole "If he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me" but I feel like the writing for this show is just... not there. Sometimes you blurt shit when you get overemotional and I think that was what Bucky was supposed to be like.

6. I don't think Sam hates Bucky, I think he doesn't trust him though. I do wish they'd talked about that though. The whole 'talk to each other' scene should've been a LOT longer and a LOT slower.

7. Sam and Bucky's relationship is being fast tracked because they don't really know how to work the relationship out, writers-room-wise. Bucky is technically retired, but I feel like he's trying to live up to Steve's expectations and doing what Steve would've done and we all know that if Steve was there, Steve would've jumped on that plane with Sam. It looks like Sam/Bucky/Joaquin are a side-team based from Military services but as Sam says they're all free agents so...?

8. Sadly, They seem to just be propping up to be another stereotype.

9. Captain America is a symbol. Steve Rogers is a man. But now Steve Rogers is an idol because of all the shit he's been through and honestly, it's not a bad thing he's become an idol for people - it's using Steve as a reason to make White Bread Walker the next Captain that makes Steve's idolization so fucked.

10. I don't know anything about music so I have no opinion here, sorry.

11. Enfys?? Also, I think they did the whole Innocent Girl Thing as side commentary for Bucky lowering his guard about seeing a young girl rather than a guy.

12. Bucky is the Winter Solider. The Winter Solider is Bucky. That is how Bucky will always see it because although he was brainwashed, it was still him and he remembers all of it. When you have constant memories of something 'someone else' did, you tend to not be able to pull the two personas out of each other. I want Bucky to take up the title, White Wolf instead of Winter Soldier. Honest.

This is all my opinion, I’m honestly a little disappointed with the writing of TFATWS so far so... I’m not really optimistic about this.

[hoseoksactualass]

illicit episodes

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut 

word count: wtf it’s ltrly almost a 10k pwp im sick

warning/s: sex during office hours (and a phone call kinda) // oral (male and female receiving) // blindfold use // just very nsfw 

summary: dream boy, chief executive officer Jeon Jungkook is someone you go way back with until every fibre of your being becomes his entire fetish.

author’s note: ceo jjk for @taespired

after reading this bitch’s recs I’ve gathered inspiration to write this per her request

have the cliche that nobody asked for but everybody wants: ceo!jk and sec!oc and some other filthy endeavours (also,, jk talks a lot and is cocky here)

It’s a crisp night. Evidently and especially in Jeon Corp. where Chief Executive Officer Jeon Jungkook’s office is astood. Full glass walls that point into a corner so the Big Boss himself can choose what side of the city to overlook. After all, whatever he sees fit is what he gets, and that includes an eagle-eye’s peer over where the sun rises and sets when he feels like turning his back on stacked paperwork on his desk—something the majority doesn’t see someone with such a youthful, handsome face as Jungkook’s tending to, but he does, and aces it, too.

What he doesn’t get, unfortunately, is why he ponders an unusual amount of time about the length of your pencil skirt. Certainly enough, earlier in the day, he swore they were longer than they are tonight. Somewhere above your knees, so like paperwork, he almost demands an explanation why he can see your mid-thighs now and the mesh he wished were some panty hose.

It’s hard to be hard in dress pants, too, and Jungkook has that noted to think about again when he sees you bend over for the umth time in front of him to… tend to the coffee table? For longer than an average amount of time?

That night, you say something in admiration to the hard, sturdy, thick wood of the coffee table, and it’s the same night Jungkook fingers you on it until his fingers are wrinkled wet. The first night of many.  

“I’ll have my secretary send you an email.”

In his office, well, his quarter of the floor, Jungkook liked to let you take his blazer and let it grace the coat hanger for the whole day. It was 8:28 in the evening, and city lights, any light, is good to his veneer. Rolled shirt sleeves, expensive belt, and whatnot. Tonight was one of the rather torpid nights, twiddling a pen in his fingers, mind tranced into his phone call with the Chairman of the Board, and you’d hate for the tight of your suspender belts to go unnoticed. You’re three buttons away from an undone blouse.

“Estimates for the next month?,” this is where he looks at you from the listless loll of his head on his office chair. You nod, not missing the way he eyes at the open crevice of your blouse. He doesn’t bat an eye anyway, instantly averts and gets back into the call. “_____ has a summary of that.”

You roll your eyes, knowing full well he wouldn’t see it anyway. You walk closer.

“The marketing manager in—,” he looks up at you, looks back down only to bring his eyes up at you again, at your proximity. “—Japan has a what? Sorry, a problem?,” he has grace in his voice, but his eyes remain stern as if his attention hadn’t been solely caught by the way you dragged your fingers on the surface of his desk, making your way around towards him. “What does she need?,” he speaks to the phone in the same way he tugs at the sleeve of your blouse, pulling you steps closer so he can ogle at you in the comfort of leaning on his office chair. You flash him a smile, but you know it would come artlessly, what with the handsome part in his hair and the softening of his face when he finally gets that front seater view of the lace on the underboob of what Jungkook could make out as an… open front bra. “Uh—huh, should I—,” he nods as if Mr. Park could see him from his end. He tugs more at your blouse, shuffling you to his lap. “—call this a phone call and handle that then?,” he speaks with a tighter breath, and you send him a glare, aware that his impatience was evident and that he’d make you make the phone call in fluent Japanese after whatever he was growing impatient for. You shake your head, threatening to scoot off his lap before you feel his free hand cup at the small of your back. “Ah, that,” he nods again, pushing his lower lip into a small pout, and you roll your eyes again, but this time he sees it, and it’s with a smile. “_____ had that finalised since last week. She’s my—She’s a really sharp secretary,” he bites white at his lip, teeth sliding swiftly at his lip balm, and you watch every second blood rushes back into it. He palms at your chest, feeling for the opening until he can play his fingers onto your skin. “She’s emailing you on those March sales as we speak,” he boasts, pride in his lie and the way he cranes his neck where you offer to kiss. “I’d love to, I’d love to,” he sounds chipper. You assume it’s about drinks, dragging the tip of your nose across his jugular. His hand leaves the warmth of the inside of your blouse, and you feel it move to the mound of your ass. Just soft petting like it’s on his schedule. You don’t rut your hips; work clothes make way too much sound to be this close to a phone call.

The way you’re sat on his lap makes your skirt hike up your thighs, enough that Jungkook sees the straps of the suspender belt latched onto your stockings. You look at him, eyes still buzzed in an attempt to focus on the call while his fingers played with the mesh, gradually going up to the strips of the garter belt.

“I’m assuming it’s just Japan who has an issue,” his head perks up at you, amused by the way you followed his every gesture. He gives your thigh a squeeze before mouthing the word off. “Great, no attempt to contact was made yet?,” he watched as you slipped off your skirt.

You knew this would get him. To see you undone, undressed this way, a garter belt, just a garter belt that matched the revelation of your bra.

“I—I understand,” you see his chest rise high and fall. Lethargic. You make your way towards him again. He fishes for something on his desk, and then you figure out it’s the remote for the blinds when you hear a significant beep, and the room starts to grow dimmer. “You can—,” he gestures for you to turn around. “—leave that to me,” you comply only to turn to face him again. He bites down on his lip. “Ah—no, sir, it’s a late night for me.”

He gestures for your blouse’s buttons. You undo them slowly.

“For _____?,” you both perk up, meeting eyes, his dark, possessive. “Why do you ask? I believe she’s finalising that email at this second,” there’s a grit to his teeth, but he manages to smug it down. You smirk at him, and he takes it like a challenge to his competence. You’re a button away. “Mm, very well,” then he cuts his attention span, paying full to the phone call more because he was in a hurry to end it. “See you tomorrow.”

He ponders for a bit, recollecting everything Mr. Park had rambled through those lines before he looks back up at you. “You get better at lying by the day, sir,” you grin. “Part of the job?”

“What I know is that you—,” and he eyes you up and down for the effect. “—should keep my secrets,” he leans back on his chair, fingers hooking to the knot of his tie, then he pulls.

He’s lit by the filter of his blinds, bleeding with the blur of city lights; there’s a good reason behind the stigma that rings around the youngest CEO-Secretary duo and how good they look (and perform). “And I do,” you reach for your heels in an attempt to slip off the pain in your feet.

“Keep them on,” he cuts you off, the tip of his index finger running slowly over his lips. “What? I like them.”

“They hurt.”

“Fine. Off, then,” he sighs as you giddily kick your heels off then finally make your way to him again, bending down to brush the surface of your lips against his. The feeling’s addictive, scandalous but it only makes you more avid for it. You feel him take your blouse off before you wave it away, leaving you in lingerie an easy bite off his own credit card. Rich, and you could sniff it off him.

You kiss down his neck, his chest and abdomen through his dress shirt, and then undo his belt like it’s practice.

“You dress like this under everyday?,” he coos, watching as you get on your knees. 

“Not everyday, but I will if you make it dress code.”

“Feel like I should,” he raises an eyebrow, confident but you still see the blazing excitement in his eyes. You tease a hot kiss on his lower abdomen, unzipping his pants. “Who are you looking this good for?”

“Myself,” you respond, palming his crotch, and he takes it with a smile.

“Gonna suck my dick for yourself, too?,” he smirks, moving his foot between your thighs and nudging them open wider from where you kneel. “Don’t think so.”

You make sure you do it languidly when you take his length out, half hard in anticipation for the heat of your mouth. You tease your tongue on the head of his cock, wetting it before you wrap your lips around it just to release with a pop. “What makes you think I’m doing this for anyone other than myself?,” you stroke him dry. 

“You’re doing it for everyone you—fuck—want would get hard or wet for you,” he speaks with a voice coming more from the tightening of his chest. 

You like feeling him like this, gradually becoming solid at the mercy of your mouth, hearing every hitch of his breath, and looking at him not as someone of power but as someone you can take the power out of. You let up after a particularly deep suck. “Tell me more,” you place a tight fist around his cock. “You mean yourself?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, moans coming out in forms of consecutive heavy exhales you could feel in your spine. “And others.”

You gather a decent amount of saliva in your mouth, straighten up on your knees, and make sure he sees clearly when you let your spit drip on his dick. It’s easier to stroke him. “Others?”

“Fuck, ugh—you’re making a mess,” he leans his head back like the rest of the chair was a magnet, just to bring his line of sight back to you. 

“Who is others, sir? Who else do you think would get hard or wet for me?,” you mock. 

He hisses at the play of honorific but more because you knew exactly what you were doing with your hand. He smirks, though, scoffs almost. “Mr. Park. If I put that call on loud speaker, you would have heard how many times he’d mentioned you.” 

“Jealous?”

“No—fuck, keep going—,” he pets at your hair, gently caressing his fingers over the neat of your low updo. “Was just thinking if—he’d seen you in those already.”

You chuckle, up to play his game though fucking Jungkook was admittedly becoming pretty exclusive. Even for him. “You’re my first audience. Always,” you chaff, finally taking him in your mouth to avoid saying anything else. He takes it like it’s the same thing that puts him to sleep and keeps him up at night, head digging into the backrest, back arching at the feeling. You’ve done this too many times to not know exactly what makes his body twitch; it’s easy enough to tighten your cheeks around his cock.

“Mr. Park hasn’t one idea what you do to me,” he as if boasts, tucking stray hair behind your ear lest he wanted it caging the view of your lingerie clad body. “What you’re doing to me—now,” his breath gets cut into a tight moan, a kick of his hip hitting the back of your throat. He moans again at the sound you make. You listen to him like it’s plugged to your ears. “That—filthy rich son of a bitch thinks he has it all,” he huffs, eyes closed when he blissfully loafs his head back before looking at you again. You look at him, only feeling the moulding of your insides more. “What he doesn’t have—,” he thumbs at your cheek, dragging it across the skin of your face to the corner of your lips where he can see his cock plunge in. He bites his lip before speaking again. “—is this mouth, right?”

“Mm,” you hum. Something about how competitive he felt around his own chairman of the board made your body churn harder than it was supposed to. You were supposed to be zipping rich off traffic on your way home by now, but now, your boss’s dick is part of your schedule. You won’t question it. 

“Get up,” he forces, watching the way you let up leave a glisten on his dick, and he finds it pretty. He tugs you to his lap, manspreads when you’re sat on him, so he can touch you where he sees fit. “And what he doesn’t have—,” he continues, eyes lingering over the swell of your lips. You feel his finger feel down, all the way straight to your core. “—is this,” he smirks when he sees your face shudder. He smears his finger across the lips, rubbing too sensitive against your clit, you make a soft ah at each caress. He easily dips a finger inside, watching his hand’s work. 

You like looking at him like this, his hair curtained over his eyes when he’s tranced by how you can make parts of him disappear inside you, i.e. his finger in your cunt, his breaths shallow, cock hard and red against his abdomen. You can pretend it feels good for now, his finger prodding at the wrong place, but his visual turns you on enough that pretending doesn’t feel like a chore. Until you don’t have to. It’s one curl of his finger and the right pressure that makes your hips roll like reflex. 

“That’s it,” he leans before continuously pressing his finger against the spot. “Fuck yourself on my finger,” he would’ve asked you if you were up for it first, but he knows you’ll give in. What he doesn’t know is how hot it gets him. He watches you, in the congratulation of nature for the broad of your hips that rock on his finger, the water from your cunt that’s starting to soil your inner thighs, and the glisten reflecting colours of the city outside. You’re filthy art. 

Another thing you like is making a mess on him and seeing him welcome it. He lets you pull on his tie rough enough, his head jerks before your lips crash. It’s almost an unkempt kiss, too—mouthing at each other like you’re trying to drink each other up, but his tongue is always so soft against your bottom lip. He kisses you like it’s ecstasy—what he feels on his finger. Then it’s near endgame when you whimper on his lips. 

“Look at me,” he mutters, swiping his tongue over his lips. But you’re in too deep that his voice is nothing but radio noise. All you do is rock your hips harder in request for more and make sure he sees when your body shudders. “Please open your eyes, and look at me,” it’s like he begs for it, too, and it’s always him to plead for something he’s greatly smitten by. Until you don’t comply. He nearly rips his tie off when he undoes it, leaving you empty and snapped out of your reverie. “If you’re not gonna look at me, you’re not gonna look at anything,” he almost growls, foaming at the mouth when he ties his necktie around your eyes, forcing nothing but a dark shade of blue until all you can do is hear, feel, smell, and taste. You wince when you feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, two firm hands on your waist. You hear it when he yanks at a drawer, shuffling through envelopes and whatnot before the ripping of plastic and just the enticing, perfect roll of rubber over his dick.

There’s a burn under your body, but you sit on the fire as if you like the way you simmer on it. With your eyes covered, your other senses are sharper, but you doll yourself into submission, not having to see to know full well how hard that made Jungkook not twitch in his dress pants. You feel his lips against your ear.

“What were you thinking of when you bought these?,” when he asks, you hear how young he is. The little postgrad boy with stars in his eyes and a gift for numbers, slack-jawed for girls in expensive lingerie he’d only ever seen in... well, much higher levels of living such as that of your lives now. You feel him pull at your garters before snapping back on your skin.

You bite your lip. Jeon Jungkook, the Computer Science major you had been pining for in your younger years, was now your boss, fingers digging into your hips like the scandal of it all blows his pupils into nothing but black. You have him right where you want him. And although you roll your hips like you’re begging, and he’s grimacing into your skin with authority, you know you’re the one in control. “You. I was thinking of showing it to you,” you whisper, voice more velvety than intended.

“Just showing?”

You crane your neck, give him more skin to nip on while he speaks through his teeth. “More than that.”

“Say it,” he presses a kiss to the juncture where your head meets your neck. “Please.”

“Thinking of making you fuck me in them,” you finger through his hair, messing the do in it, but it’s always nice to feel the silk of his roots. You have him somewhere between making and fuck. It’s only fitting you hear the noise he makes clearer. “I thought of you bending me over your desk and fucking me silly.” After that, all that rung in Jungkook’s mind was a string of I want to fuck her I want my cock inside her I want to hear her cry for it.

“You had this whole nasty act planned then, huh?,” he’s lost, the colour in his eyes a thin ring around his pupils. “Bending over every time I’m on the phone, you do this to Mr. Park, too?”

You hold back a smirk. “I had this act planned just for you.”

You could be smoldered into his skin at this rate, keening where he touches and throbbing where he doesn’t. In his pulse you hear him feeling just the same way, chest tight, sweat on his hairline. He goes a little quiet until you feel him grip at your hips, lifting you slightly, and then the glory of his cock teasing at your entrance. “Shit.”

You make a tiny whimper, and his head would have shot up if it wasn’t for the rather wet visual you had prepped for him.

“You should stop making me want to fuck you every time I’m trying to work—fuck,” he twinges when you sit on him, sinking down, and a long, raspy breath leaves his chest. “Like it just the same when you’re on top of me like this?”

You like how he mumbles this way, as if whispering small mercies and sweet nothings to his own ear, just a breathier, whinier, filthier way of him uttering things to himself when work has the best of him.

You don’t analyze it over; you just want his cock hitting the right place, so you take charge and start with a slow bounce. Enough that you can say the pressure inside you feels good. You know he’s sat back despite being deprived of his visual, with the way you feel him holding his chair in place and the tense of his thighs every time you make him bottom out, and the sounds of his breaths, leaving in ropes of heavy pants and tight groans. You feel a thumb to your clit.

“Oh, fuck,” you almost throw your head to the side. The feeling sends the pair of you into a fucking frenzy—you picking up your pace as you bounce and him trying to match with his finger on your clit. “Ugh—nngh, oh my god—Sir,” the honorific is something you don’t intend. You know, you’re used to it rolling off the tongue just right. With the kick of his hips, you know he’d reveled in that more than you knew.

“Fuck—fucking say that again.”

You shiver, gripping on the arm rests for leverage, head tilted up as if in praise. When you speak, your throat’s a little dry, but it comes off in a husky, light “Sir.”

Why do I find that so fucking hot is all Jungkook thinks of, but he’s biting his lip before he makes a sound more choked than yours.

He doesn’t ask again, but by now, you have a mental note of it. And if there’s something you’re known for as a secretary besides being astonishingly younger than most and unusually giddy around her boss, you were quick at picking up on everything, so you say “Sir, it feels so fucking good” like you were programmed to.

You feel his cock do a thing inside you, and you almost laugh. Quickly replaced by a strangled moan, though, feeling him press down harder as he rubs you. He’s all noise and no words, breathy and tickly in all the good ways until he’s formed a considerable sentence. “Yeah? Fill me in,” one thing that shocks you is his spontaneity in knowing just exactly how to play. Fill me in is the exact same thing he says when asking for minutes, and you tremble as you ride him without intending to. “You like this better than getting your back blown from behind?,” you hear the grimace on his lips. His voice drops, not lower, just softer, more silky, dangerous almost when he says “You like being blindfolded?”

It’s not only the way he says it; it’s all the context behind it. Something about him scribbling down in his head what made your pussy clench around him and what put you off; it was almost... intimate. All you could muster is a faltering “Y-Yeah.”

“Tell me what you like about it,” he prods. 

There’s another thing about responding to this that might ignite your skin where it meets him. As if giving in to him, making him feed off the fetish inside you that is him and every hot thing he does that makes you putty, and you don’t want to splay the evidence before him, but when he asks with a soft plead, “Tell me how this makes you feel”, you find your lips parting. “I—,” you choke when he draws circles on your clit faster as if intending to make you sputter. “I want to see you, but—I like—fuck, I like—how filthy this is.”

He groans, doesn’t mean to. Your thighs are feeling sore. 

He doesn’t ask you to continue, but you do. “S-Somehow, I can—I like that all I can do now is—is hear and feel you,” you’re getting lost in it, stars in your eyes though he doesn’t see. Everything’s starting to fall into the right place, and you don’t know whether the object of his dick in and of itself feels good, or whether that was because he was doing wonders for your clit, or maybe because Jungkook was just hot. You play into it like you’re trained to and ask, voice in a choked whimper, “I just need to—taste you now.”

His thighs flex to a tense. “M-Motherfuck—,” he brings the office chair low, awkward when you slowly descend, but your feet’s weight finds home on the ground, so at least you can bounce on him without rolling on a chair around the office. He doesn’t need to hold onto the desk now, too, so he brings two fingers to your lips and faintly prods. “Ah,” he groans, a low hum when he asks you to open your mouth. “B-Be a good girl,” he almost hisses. “—and taste me like this, hm?”

It’s like your blood ascends to a boil and is stunned right under your skin when you feel him stroking at your mouth. You obey, keeping your tongue a plump bed when you take his fingers inside your mouth. 

When you lightly moan, Jungkook rubs a harsh circle on your nerves before collecting his pace again. “This what you wanted?,” he asks, chest heaving harder, and you almost whine that you don’t get to see him in his glory. “Can you taste me like—like this f-for now?”

You twitch at his tone, hum to it, inner thighs burning at the sore, but you don’t give a single fuck. You bathe in it, feel the way your pupils dilate to try and collect light, but all you’re getting is a more refined version of everything but. He’s moaning for it, eyes switching between the way your lips were wrapped sloppily around his twiddling fingers and down where he was stroking you fast. He tastes of sweat and fading lotion, and every inch and twinge in your body is a second closer to ripping yourself to shreds. 

It’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Establishing an unintentionally exclusive sexual connection with your boss was downright absurd, but it can’t be helped when every sensation was a fucking astral projection. You felt like you were evolving, above everyone else, and it was all because of this man’s energy. His eyes are in a haze. You tongue around his fingers, zoned out yourself, until he moans again. “If—If you’re gonna keep this up, I’m gonna—,” you feel him shudder under you. “Oh, fuck—I’m gonna—”

You’d have a mouth to your face in shock if you were looking at yourselves from a third perspective, or maybe the build up was coming too fast; you’d almost want to push him away and veer off the feeling. It’s still something he pressed harder on you, until your cunt makes squelching noises, and that’s where his head snaps. “Shit—oh, god—keep talking, please—”

“Yeah? Keep going,” he says through his tongue’s sputter. “Keep yourself on—on that cock, you fucking—ugh—,” You don’t long to plague yourself on the thought that he’d like to use your body to overwhelm himself this way, let you milk him until none of you can take it, but it plagues you anyway. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, drags the wet of his down your moving torso, makes sure he’s smearing it just right. You mewl. “Fuck—keep going.”

“Shit, fuck, I’m so close,” you squeak, the lower portion of your body quivering slightly. This is what fucking Jungkook was like—bedevilling yourself into nothing but sex and filth. “God, fuck, I wanna cum so bad—”

“Fucking—take it, please,” his hand goes down your waist, planted there like he’s hesitating whether to control your motions or not. “Keep going until you can’t take it, slut—fuck—”

“Oh my god,” you shrivel. But now, your thighs are jelly and knees are trembling; it becomes a supercut—the way he latches on to your hips, lifts you like you weigh nothing and props you on his desk atop messily swiped away papers, and it doesn’t take a minute before your toes curl, and your body itself withers into a weak hold around his dampening body, blinded from everything but the feeling of him taking it away and your own tight shrieks. Then you’re palming at his chest, his shoulders; the feeling’s making your hips buck. “Sir—fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck—”

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so good,” he growls, loses control, leans over your body and pulls off the tie from your eyes only to groan yet again at the sight of your dilated pupils, the twitch of your face and body with every thrust closer to deathly overstimulation. Then his mind-to-mouth filter is nothing but barren territory. “Holy shit, you’re getting—fucking tighter,” he bites, and he’s not done. “That’s a good slut, that’s my good slut,” not done. “So you’ll take it, okay? Take this in your tight cunt until I’m done with you?,” not done. “You’re gonna make me finish, o-okay?”

You almost beg for it, still exactly aware of what strings of his to play with even if a second longer was one step closer to insanity. For now, it’s a whimpery mantra of “Sir, Sir, Sir—”.

“Oh my fuck,” then he loses it, holding back with a tight strain in his chest and all the pull in his abdomen, silent but taut pants until he lets loose with a string of airless groans, slowing down after. He curses a silent “Shit” to himself before pulling out and releasing himself of the soiled rubber. 

Jeon Jungkook is a gentleman, taking your hand and pulling the wear and use of your body to his lap, this time with your back pressed to his front. It’s a story for another time, but when you’d just started out these particular endeavours with Jungkook, you had to acclimate to him treating you like you were married after sex, now the situation being him stroking your tummy as he embraced you and taking up your scent with his nose to your back. “You like being called sir.”

You can’t see him, but you know his eyes are closed. The skin where he sniffs gets cold. “I guess so,” he mumbles. His arms tighten around you, and that’s when you declare you haven’t adjusted to him holding you this way at all, especially with his dick done being inside you. 

“I’ll put that to good use.”

“You already did, miss,” he laughs up your skin, sending two small taps to your hip to tell you it’s time to get off, and you hate it when you feel upset it didn’t last. “Anyway, I have to work from home tomorrow. Need you with me by...,” he brings his wrist up after you get off him, already in the process of pulling your skirt back up. 

At the same time, you glance at the wall clock. Just struck 9. 

“By seven.”

“In the evening?,” you toe your heels on. 

He smiles. “Better if you’re early.” 

You don’t know why, but you feel awkward when you smile back and respond with a soft “Right.”

At most at this second, you were a coffee girl, and you’d love to get out of this tight blouse that’s digging where you sweat. “Anything else?,” you stand next to Jungkook, graced but unfazed by the glory of him working on opening a new sales firm in Japan while wearing pyjamas.

It’s only now he gains sight of the restless on your face. “I didn’t really need you here, you know.”

You felt that make a section in your brain twitch, but you’ve mastered the art of sucking it up years ago. “I’m your secretary after all. We never know,” cue your signature simper, but he knows you too well by now.

“Oh, I know,” he smiles, flatting out papers on his desk and his fingers swipe dangerously close enough to knock his new cup of coffee over. “Called you here to gift you something, actually. I knew you’d be… exhausted.”

You feel the unshakeable use in your loins yet again; it’s like home was phoning you. Turns out you could get enough of your hot boss’s antics. “Oh?”

“I’d let you plan an opening shower for this firm and get that gift for you myself, but I’d figured you’ve had enough of work today,” he leans on the desk, resting his chin on the back of his palms adorably, blinking at you with the still audacity to flirt. “It’s on the bed. In my room.”

It can’t be helped. You smile at him, still in the middle of trying to oil the gears in your head to come up with a thank you or an apology for looking so fucked out.

“And can you turn on my Nintendo Switch while you’re at it? It’s on the bedside. And you can take a shower if you want.”

You laugh, nodding, to turn on your heel and make your way, the implication of him joining you to thumb at a Nintendo device heavy on your mind.

Your heels are still obnoxiously loud by the time you’re at the hall to the left despite trying. You kick them off politely before entering, and when you do, a cityscape view meets you. Someone forgot to turn down the blinds, but it’s perfect like this. A privilege to feel on top of the world by being on top of the world. The ache in your feet’s wearing off already, and the second thing you see is the beige paper bag that sits on the foot of his bed. You don’t bother switching any light on, seeing it sits bright in the contrast of the dimlit room and his dark bed sheets.

Your soles feel like they have balls under them when you walk, but you swerve and flick on his Switch first, its supposedly vivid colours toned in the night’s lighting. On the bedside table was also his watch, ticking an uncertain 8:29 and signifying you had been working on the clock for more than twelve hours. Your work hours tended to always get this rowdy when international boards like that of Japan’s had problems, so you worked like a flint striking stone, though Jungkook… was rather tranquil this evening. As if he had something planned altogether. You won’t question it.

It takes just a peek for you to decide how predictable of a gift this was, an elegant bundle of black silk and lace at the bottom of the bag. You take the bag by your fingers and walk your way to the bathroom, an inevitable smirk on your lips.

Walking in on the luxury of his bathroom will never be customary, already looking warm before you even switch on a light. When you do, you feel like you’ve stepped into a magazine altogether, the golden glow of the vanity giving the perfect accent to the dark, granite finish of the counters and big-tiled walls. For some reason, you don’t lock the door. 

“Huh?” is something you don’t say to yourself out loud while facing yourself in the mirror, but the way the black chemise drapes over the parts you’d use to provoke Jungkook has you raising your brows. 

The pair of you are for window undies and garters and lace and mesh upon lace and mesh, but an opaque, painfully lustrous slip was prettily uncalled for. Your hair’s still wet, but it’s something you ignore when you twist your body for a bit for the mirror as if not used to how concealed all your curves, slopes, and lines were. At least when around Jungkook. 

You hear the doorknob jiggle, and you’re not supposed to, but you feel jittery, on your toes. 

He greets you with a tapping foot, a flustered blush, and a bit lip. 

“You’re taught to knock,” you smile, hands smoothing the silk down your hips. You feel like a wife on her anniversary night, and he’s in careless pyjamas, too, barely allowing you to make out the more intricate lines of muscle.

“You’re taught to lock,” he mumbles through a bitten lip, and you’d expect him to eye you all the way down by now, but he’s fixated on your eyes. “Kidding.”

It’s not entirely carnal, but you feel obligated to act a certain way at this moment, what with how the pair of you are dressed for rewiring your brain into being on your toes like a wedded couple’s honeymoon. “Should I address the elephant in the room?,” you break eye contact. 

“Huh?,” but he’s already turning on his heel, feet leaden and ready to throw his weight where his bed waits for him. He catches on what you mean swift though, and responds with a huffy “You mean my present? Different, right?” as he crashes down. 

You turn off the bathroom light and close the door behind you after grabbing the beige bag now containing your work clothes. “...Sort of,” you wiggle your toes. “I was just trying it on,” you say that rather louder than intended, and it makes him chuckle.

“Nah, tell me what you really think about them,” he pushes himself up, propped on his elbows. You give a good eye at the fabric smoothing over his chest. “I think you look hot, honestly.”

“I feel like I’m about to do nothing but literally sleep with you.”

It makes him guffaw, a bit too hard you would say if you were in his shoes; you almost speculate the slack in his jaw and the wrinkle in his eyes too much and wonder if just sleeping with you had ever crossed his mind. “It’s not like you never have.”

“I have, but it’s always after we fuck,” you raise your brows slightly.

Then it’s now you discern he gives you a sly, once-over and licks his lips. It’s almost like it gives you a spritz of energy in your bones. “Well, do you want to?,” he pulls on his collar before flicking one button of his top open, then toned, honey skin is all you think of. “Just sleep with me, I mean?”

You pull a distasted face, apples of your cheeks twitching into a scrunch when you scoff “‘Course not.”

“Good. Come here,” he pats the space next to him. A smirk on your face can’t be helped when you comply. If you were alone, the instant feel of sheets would have you in an abrupt power nap, but Jungkook handles you like he couldn’t care any less. He throws a leg over you, in a kneeled crouch above you just close enough for you to feel his breath. “Just sit back for me, hm?”

You’re not used to it. The lax in your body, how unmoving you are, clad in bold silk and lace, and Jungkook can see nothing of you but the processing in your eyes and how you wait as if calculating—Why is he

touching me like I’m about to break?

“Do me a favor,” he stills before biting white on his lip. “Tonight, I—,” then you catch his eyes follow down your body, how the silk leaves nothing and yet everything to his imagination. You’re waiting, pulse in sync with the watch on his desk. “I’m not your boss, okay?,” he as if proposes like he’s unsure you’ll confide in him. All you do is search his eyes. “I’m not a CEO, I’m just—,” his shoulders go slump, and for a minute, he zones out. “Just Jungkook.”

You blink. “I—,” honestly don’t know what to say, not when you have outstanding employee plaques on your walls telling you to treat Jungkook exactly how he says not to at this moment. “—but, Sir—“

He groans, leaning down and keeping you caged between his knees, pressing an open-mouthed kiss below your ear. “Have to stop calling me that now, or I’ll snap,” he mutters. You feel his eyelashes on your skin, every edge of his close to you boosted by the touch. For some reason, the whole idea of the pair of you in bed just like teens, with no hectic schedule or firms to attend to, has your breath hitching and even more so when he sucks your skin.

Your hands find his hair, letting the strands sprout through the spaces between your fingers when you faintly tug, and he groans in response. You’ve rarely called him this ever since college, but somehow, your tongue finds it rolls off just as right at this second—he nibbles, and you sigh, “Jungkook.” His name tastes sweet.

Then his pupils blow up, and a soft growl accumulates from his throat, his body reacting at the use of his name before his mind can even grasp it. The use of his name from your lips. “I just—,” he shivers, one hand palming at your chest. Another kiss on your collarbone. “—want to be good to you.”

His voice comes from all kinds of alluring and almost desperate. His lips rose around the bone of your collar and suck, granting himself a soft hiss he realises he’s looking for his name in. Your eyes long to flitter shut, but how Jungkook stops to eye at the marks he’s left can’t be any more admirable. You hear him sniff down your chest, his nose gliding against the fabric before another near chaste kiss on your womb. 

“You’re not wearing anything else,” he utters, keeping himself level with your crotch when he slides slow hands from the back of your knees and higher. 

“’Course I’m not.”

“Good,” he exhales, languid when he pushes your knees into a bend, feet flat on the bed, enough that the chemise curtains over your arousal. You grab a pillow, stuff it under your head lest you want a strain over gaping at him too much. He knows what he does to you. Keeps his eyes on you when he bites on the hem of your slip and leisurely pulls it up where he can see more skin, breathing, turning red in a glow, panting, waiting. Lost in some new inhibition and more when he whispers “Smell so good,” he kisses the mound of your crotch. “So sweet.”

You’re throbbing for it—a prelude for Jungkook wrapping wet lips around your nerves only to stay immobile. All he does is take a deep inhale against your heat; his eyes flutter shut involuntarily, and as if that hazed him, he opens his eyes into dark, lust-ridden hoods. You’re rendered speechless, the way he touches you almost convincing you you’ll break. He kisses against you, tongue licking right under the hood and lips tightening with every stroke. You make a sound he groans to, feeling a jump in the pit of your stomach before it starts to sear in your toes. “Oh, god,” you whisper, grabbing soft hold on the back of your thighs. 

It’s not scarce he hears you like this, laboured breathing and whatnot, pressure on your fingertips wherever you hold on to, but your endeavors preceding that of now’s clearly showed you had the upper hand. Whether it be getting your hair tugged on, your ass squeezed to a bruise, or getting thrown against a wall, he’a always a glare away from being at your total mercy. Not now. And you don’t figure that out just yet.

He mouths at your pussy before pulling free with the shudder in your chest. He takes one arm from where he holds you and brings it to a fold near him, so his fingers play along your wetness. Your lip finds comfort bitten.

What’s so fun about this is the role Jungkook’s getting too good by the second at playing. Your eyes show puzzlement at his feigned love-struck ones, and he has you exactly where he wants. Vulnerable, anticipating something strangely erotic and intimate. The upper hand is his, and he uses its fingers to spread the lips of your cunt apart. “You okay?”, he keeps his eyes on your core. He’s not going to make any snarky comments on how your pussy looks like fresh fruit, but you feel how wet it is anyway, down your ass and all. He pushes a bit with his fingers, watching when the slick drips. He doesn’t spare your eyes a glance, bites his lip to the visual.

“Yeah, I’m—,” he pushes a finger in. It’s limp, and you feel nothing off it, so you know it’s just for feelers. “—fine,” you squeak.

“Want you to feel good, though,” he still doesn’t look at you when he twists his hand so his palm faces the ceiling, curling the plunged finger inch by inch and waiting for that one twitch. He finds it, warm and frilly against his prod. “Do you feel good?”

“There—I—feel good,” you lick your lips and swallow before realising how parched your throat was. He pecks a kiss on your clit before repeatedly pressing his finger against your spot, earning himself almost a shrill whimper from you. “Oh, god.”

“Yeah?,” he pushes a second digit in, the stretch sudden but easy. “Want to make you feel good, want you to cum on my tongue and fingers,” he as if confesses, stiffening his fingers when he slowly pulls in and out to push at your sweet spot again. He feels your hips buck, eyes breaking contact with your pussy just to see your abdomen clench. “You make me so hard, though, I can’t let you just cum now.”

You moan at his words, stupified by whatever persona he’s acquired, youthful and dirty and whipped. “F-Fuck,” is all you can muster.

He speeds up. “What I mean is—,” he stripes his tongue up where you throb for it, and you flinch. “—I want you to cum on my cock. I want to feel this tight, wet pussy cum around my cock, hm?,” his breath proves shallow, fucking you harder with his fingers. A little harder, and you’ll unravel. “I want you—,” his cock’s too much of a strain in his pyjamas by now, and his face feels too muggy. Then he admits, “—to fall apart,” pulling his fingers free and leaving you into a bloodshot, panting grime on his sheets before he proceeds towering over you. His fingers almost slip with your slick when he pulls his shirt off. He’s cruel enough to watch himself when he pulls the waistbands of his pj’s and boxers off, his cock springing up and twitching to a stand against his abdomen. You pulsate in anticipation.

He lazily strokes himself, propping himself in a kneel above you again. He stares at you, the curve of your body and how you wait wet for him. A breath leaves him in a shiver. You attempt getting up and taking his cock in your own hand, but he groans, pushes you down with his other hand and uses it to pull the hem of your chemise all the way above your breasts. Looks for the red undertone of your arousal, your breath and its evident heaving; he squeezes himself before picking up his pace. “Jungkook, let me touch you,” you mutter, on your elbows.

He can’t resist. He lets go and shrivels under the feel of your own hand, pumping him just as he had been. He hums, tilts his head to catch the spread of your cunt, still wet, swollen almost. You make sure your thumb glides over the curtain of the head of his cock, and he bucks. Subsequent to his almost falling apart, he breaks free of your touch and finally props himself down, eyes level with yours, length rubbing on the lips of your heat. You make a whimper of some sort. “Hm?,” he rocks his hips like this. His ears are red.

You can wait. Enamored by how much of a fetish you had become for him. Everything you do or say turns a switch on, and then he’ll want his dick inside you. And now that you had made this revelation, he has you at a blind spot, just waiting, even if one mention of his name will have him by his knees. You whisper, “Jungkook.”

“God,” he ruts, wetting himself with you. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” he makes a choked exhale, a scrunch on his nose leaving none of his struggle to your imagination. It’s excruciating already. Almost a wine sommelier made to watch before she gets a taste, and every second feels like she’s not getting it so soon. His hair’s falling over his eyes, but you won’t have his head for it. He makes it look painfully sexy, in his crazed element. “It’s—fuck,” he laughs, shaking hair from his vision, licking his lips into a bite when his hips stutter. “Fucking everything about you,” he fakes pressure on your hole, enough to give you a pre-launch on how he’s gonna feel getting in you, but he slides his cock yet again, a shrill groan leaving his throat like he’s annoying himself. “—makes me wanna fuck you so bad.”

Accordingly, you think it’ll drive him crazier if you slowly snake your arms from his back to his neck, and it does. He jerks forward and bites his lip a bit too hard, it’s blood red by the time his teeth give. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, si—Jungkook.”

With that, he caves, sparing you silent, awkward seconds to yank at the bedside drawer, and the familiar plastic ripping and rubber rolling plays like a montage again. With what vigor he had to tease you into a puzzle, he uses when he pounds you. You pull at his hair a bit too hard but this time with the awareness anything you do conjures some type of scourged reaction from him. This time, it’s a “Yeah—fucking make me feel it,” he growls, breath light already, and you feel the sheets tighten by your nape where he fists. Your nails almost spade through his scalp, and he only asks for more. Your skin sounds like cheap porn, like a fake audio overlay to appeal to those who craze over slapping skin. “Harder,” there’s a grit to his teeth. Biting down on whatever filth he has before he lets loose.

He’s fucking you hard enough. CEO Jeon Jungkook will look at who he is at this second and frown at his stripped dignity but fawn over how he knows exactly how to move. He knows your body. He’ll know exactly what skin to pinch to make a limb twitch. And he’ll learn fast when the waters haven’t been tested. In this context that he wants to fucking hear you. Are you gonna speak in tongues over dick like this? Are you gonna beg? Scream? Bleat?

“Tell me how you feel.”

Your hands go for his biceps. “I—ohhhfuck so good— fuken’—so hard, Jungkook.” Speak in tongues.

He leans down, totally snogs your ear while he’s at it, biting at skin you’ll put a pain patch over to hide. “Come on, make me hear you,” he pleads, proving lust for more. You never miss how his voice gets tight. He slows for a second, props his knees again; the sheets are starting to sting and stick to his sweat. Then he thrusts back in, fuller, deeper where his fingers have been, and your back archs the way he knows. Somehow, it’s still new. “Right—fucking there, huh?,” then cue—he goes faster. And your hips buck awkwardly, feet leaden, ankles stabbing the foam, abs flexing, and—

“J-Jungkook—more, more—.” Beg. “—More—fuck!” Scream.

And he prides himself with it. Smiles, even. “Yeah, baby?,” is in character with it. You won’t have his head now for anything even if he calls you his fucking sweetheart. Crisis talks. He’ll fuck you and won’t stop until you’ll think about him at night like he’d broken your heart.

If you clench hard enough, you feel the sensation burn but your muscles give out. Something just quite the bargain should be something that’ll fuel you. Make your eye sockets smolder. You ask for it. “Sp-Spit on me. In my mouth.”

“Shit—you fucking harlot,” there’s a glow to his chest. You almost see where his voice leaves, mouth slack when he’s not speaking; he might as well fucking moan. “Open up, baby.”

You lick your lips before you do, make sure you push on the muscle so it’s more plump, red, enough for him to make a bull’s eye when he spits. Your eyes almost roll back into your head. You can taste him. Warm, hint of mouth wash, but mostly warm, foamy, fucking hot. Your gut twists, and you swear you’ll indulge in the feeling before an orgasm starts at your door. “Nnnggh—Jung—kook,” Bleat.

“Yeah, she likes that, you like that,” he mutters before huffing hard, abdomen contracting even more before he goes silent, save for the tiny pants he gives out. Pays attention, wraps his head around your sounds, more pornographic because the both of you are nearing, and your filter has gone to hell. Your lower extremities have thrown a twitching fit, caught between shutting close and keeping them broad open for him. Your right hand lets free from his assaulted skin, traveling down your front to press down on the pit of your stomach, almost so you can feel his dick moving from outside. He makes a cursed growl when he sees you do so. “Look at you,” he hisses through his teeth’s rattling mettle. If he bites down on them, they’ll break. “You know I love your pussy,” he laughs only for it to get choked into a groan. “Getting it even tighter for me.”

Your attempt at a growl turns into almost a cough, dragging out from the blooming of your chest. You’re hot, convulsing, cells expanding and breaking at the heat. Each twinge is like a snap of thunder. You scrunch your face, choosing to show struggle to hold back over sticking your tongue out with rolled back eyes like a cadaver. “Fucking me so good, it feels so good—,” you choke, body curled at his mercy, trusting and praying to his stamina to throw you over the edge, and he’ll prove success with no fail. You have your eyes closed, but his breaths are hot and hard enough that you can pretend to see it in colour. You can write something entirely about the sounds he makes. There’s a pinch in it, each take for air like a sip of helium. “Jungkook, I’m close,” you pant.

“Yeah? Fuckyeah, give it to me.” Skin slaps. His thighs are aching, but he uses its last against your core, fucking the pair of you over it. He’ll hold it back or come to a release with a strangled groan, so he’ll beg for it like you’re gonna forget. “C-Cum, babe, I’m gonna—cum with you,” he groans, pays heed to every bounce and twinge and buck in your body to get off to.

“Fuuuck—there, there, there—“

“Gonnacum—jesus fuck,” he spasms, digs his hips into yours when he unravels and watches when your body twitches into tune. Almost like an instrument played back on track when your body softens with his and your breaths are evidently loud in the air, mouths parched. “Shit,” he exhales, crashing on you, scorching his face with your body warmth where he buries his head.

It takes seconds for you to remember you hadn’t even pulled off your chemise.

It’s a crisp night. Evidently and especially in a Jeon Corp service limo. Full tinted, glass windows that meet by the sides so the Secretary herself can choose what side of the city to overlook. After all, whatever she sees fit is what Jeon Jungkook gets for her, and that includes an eagle-eye’s peer over the roots of the city on the way home when he feels like he’s fucked her hard enough to tick something off his fetish bucket list—something the majority doesn’t see someone with such a youthful, handsome face as Jungkook’s tending to, but he does, and aces it, too.

You go home with Jeon Jungkook’s blazer over your crumpled chemise, a calculated step off the vehicle like in the films. What you don’t expect is Sang-hyuk, designated driver, handing you another beige bag, similar to where your slip had come from just about an hour ago. You peek in, enough to make out a gaping card with a Wear this next before you even find out what it is.

[nctrenjunie]

Angel~ Haechan x Reader (M)

Author: Sera

Pairing: Mafia!Haechan x Reader

Genre: Smut

IMPORTANT: I wanted to open a instagram acccount for this blog for requests etc. and just be closer to my followers. PLS TELL ME YOUR OPINION?

Request: I started writing at 12pm its 2.45 am and I have to wake up at 6am. It took me 3 coffees  and 2liters water to stay awake. I still have to wash my hair. Hope youll like it. Sry for taking so much time, school is killing me physically and mentally. Feedback is very welcomed! <3 

The fact that it felt like a humiliation wasn't really what made you feel this strong desire to kill him. It was the loss of respect and control that drove you crazy to the point that just from sitting still on the chair he commanded you to sit on your blood started to boil up. 

His dark sinister filled eyes matching yours that were sternly fixed on his rapidly movements through the room, walking from wall to wall, trying to figure out what to do know with his thoughts and you. The gun that he was fidgeting through his hand made you surprisingly nervous as the small sound of the trigger rang through your ears once in a while. 

 The lack of reaction you gave him, with a slight scoff and a smirk didn't surprise him, knowing you trusted him. Still, it pissed him off, knowing that there really is someone who doesn't fear him, that could read him like an open book, someone who even he couldn't shoot a bullet through the head. 

He wanted to make you feel as transparent and readable as he felt, the moment as he saw you pinned against the wall, one of his workers leg between yours whilst the servants and the man could see right through his face. The pissed, furious look plastered on his face, mixed with a hint of betrayal, not really coming from your side but from his underling that thought taking chances on his baby would bring him somewhere else than waiting for his death in the big mansion off his once boss. 

Wanting to make you feel as humiliated as he felt he made you sit down in the middle of one of the living rooms in the mansion, making sure that it was middled enough for everyone that was pacing near the living room to hear your cries and moans later. The gun was still pointed carelessly against your head, his index finger on the trigger as he finally started to talk.

”Care to explain to me what happened angel?” 

He knew what happened, he went to watch the CCTVS after the incident, leaving you waiting there for him, dress pulled down on the shoulders, showing of more of your cleavage that it should be if it wasn't for Haechan.

 “He started touching me, I pushed him away,  he pulled on my dress and pinned me against the wall, trying to seduce me to runaway with him, for you to give him money to get me back, dumb boy, you came in, some of the servants behind you. The rest you know yourself. Stop being a fool and try to show dominance by pointing a gun at me. Now let me go, I want to shower.”

He kept steady, satisfied with your obvious answer but overthinking your words about him trying to show off his dominance.

 “Aren't you the same Y/N? Always trying to show how much control you have over me at every little moment you get the chance to. We are the same angel.”

 You knew where this was going to go as he started to move the gun down against your jawline and then to your neck, touching over your shoulders before gliding the gun firmly over your cleavage down to your heart where he unlocked the gun, letting the click of it echoing through the room. Your eyes were locked the whole time, not like the gun that was slowly gliding down the rest of your body to your core as he suddenly lifted his hand up, shooting up at the ceiling, breaking the lust filled silence as he let the gun fall down to the floor leaving you in semi shock from the shot.

”Now behave for me angel.”

 “I thought we were the same, shouldn't you behave then too, angel?”

 “Heaven already lost an angel when I signed up honey, don't follow my way to hell since you're the only way up for both of us.” 

Hachean didn't left you time to think about his words as he yanked you up from the chair, pulling your legs around his waist. The kisses that he crashed against your lips were quick and sloppy yet passionate and long enough to claim the dominance over you. Your hands were wrapped around his shoulder, tangled in his soft hair that were getting messier every second whilst his hands were making their way up to the hem of your dress, rapidly undressing you, leaving you in confusion. You stopped the kiss, pulling away as your hands went down to his cheeks.

 “Aren't we gonna go to the bedroom? I don't think it's a good idea to do it here.”

 Smirking at your words Haechan let you down, letting the dress fall down to the floor as his hand went down to your core, touching over your underwear. You didn't even realise you got so wet until Haechan pressed against the damp fabric, spreading a welcoming feeling from your clit up into your stomach. He unbuckled his belt with one hand, using the other one to pull you closer before making its way back to your clit, this time leading it underneath your underwear, sliding two fingers over your slit, leaving you squirming from his touch.

 “That's your punishment angel. Everyone will hear you scream my name for me and only mine, companied by your angelic moans.”

 You weren't even surprised by your lovers attitude but now more likely busy with keeping your moans down low as you were already struggling with the volume of your noises. Haechan took of his pants and boxers, blouse still on with the two first buttons unbuttoned as he kept rubbing his finger over your slit, keeping his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles on it. Moving you backwards you felt his big member against your belly before he threw you down on the couch, landing on you and making sure not to hurt you. 

You tried to relax into his touches, feeling his cock against your inner thighs now as you let your guard down, slowly moaning into the feeling of his two fingers on your hole. A loud scream escaped your mouth as he suddenly rammed both fingers deep down your pussy. Keeping the fast movement you couldn't help yourself to squeak out loud lust filled screams, pinching your nails deep into his forearm.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck...Haechan please, its too much..” 

Haechan didn't stop his movements adding a third finger, filling his ears and probably lot more with your loud euphoric screams as he grew bigger with every second, slowly growing impatient and just wanting to ramm inside of you rapidly to get both of you to a full filling orgasms. 

Seeing you roll back your eyes and stop your breathing for a second Haechan abruptly takes his hand away from your body, pulling your underwear to the side before slowly moving his cock inside your hole, making you scream again. You lay there, already fucked out as you start to scream your lungs out again. Haechan starts to pant with you, moving his hips not fast but hard enough to ramm himself deep down into you, feeling your walls clench every moment around his dick. Knowing you are close and wanting to come with you he speeds up. 

“Youre my little dirty angel, right Y/N? Screaming out my name for everyone to hear, letting everyone know how good im fucking your brains out.” 

His words make you cry out even louder feeling your high approaching. Haechan puts his hands on your hips, holding you still to ramm himself with his last thrusts into you, bringing both of you to feel the relief of your orgasm. You feel him pull out, cum spilling out of you on the expensive couch. His passionate kisses falling onto your lips before you drift of to sleep.

“Sleep tight angel.”

[lonelyhearteds-a]

hi . 

okay , ive literally been sitting on this for actual months now because i realize there are more important things going on in the world right now , but im at my own personal breaking point and i’ve realized that i need a space to get everything off my chest and this is as good as it gets since i can’t afford therapy so ,, here goes nothing . 

tl;dr.  tw : drugs , mentions of suicide , overall negativity

so , we’re gonna ignore january and february issues because honestly .... i don’t recognize those months as canon . anyways , i’ve been off of tumblr since the pandemic started in america in march . i lost my job , and i’ve had to use my personal time in order to keep getting something in my bank account , but i was making that + unemployment for a few weeks . everything was fine , truthfully and utterly i was making enough just off of unemployment despite the fact it took 3 weeks to even be processed . then everything hit the fan and it flew everywhere . my mom relapsed in mid-april and she relapsed hard , but me pretending it’s just her illnesses went about my business and decided to ignore it until it exploded in my face . i’m not going into too much detail about it , but with everything she’s done since april we’ve now got a really broken and fractured relationship . it’s taken me nearly fourteen years to realize the amount of sheer trauma she’s put me through ; mentally , physically and emotionally . then , we were almost evicted because she didn’t pay rent for two months - so i had to use my entire stimulus check just to catch up on rent and the mortgage payments . then , i went back to work in may just to process shipping orders . again , was fine for the most part , however i wasn’t making as much and what i had saved my mom found a way to guilt me to spend it . this went on all of may , living paycheck to paycheck . june week one came along and my mom overdosed . this was one of the worst experiences of my life ; it was re-opening week ( apparently clothing is essential during a pandemic )  , my mom was acting like she had no common sense ( destroying the house , not feeing the animals , not taking care of herself , LOSING MY CAT , locking the dogs in the car in 100 degree heat , calling me names i dont even want to repeat .. amongst other situations ), and i didn’t eat . for a week . i was sick to my stomach with stress and exhaustion , living off of literally 5 hours of sleep between friday and thursday when i finally got help from my family after begging them to help me send her to a psych ward for two weeks . she called me every single day and we’d argue every single day . when she was released , it was as if nothing’s changed . she said she was gonna change , but she hasn’t . she walks around with a rain cloud above her head and if i don’t give her money , she guilts me into doing it . so on so fourth . we argue almost everyday about something , whether it’s money or my attitude somehow making her life worse . i asked her one day if she’s ever going to be happy and she flat out told me no . there’s so much more going on with her but if i posted it all i might as well write a book . i’ve never wanted to kill myself more than i do everyday so far this month .

now , july , i’ve recognized i can’t keep living like this . my company has filed for bankruptcy and is closing more than 1200 stores and we don’t know which ones are closing and which ones are remaining opened yet , but if my store closes i have no money to fall back on until i find a new job . i have no money for groceries or pet food , and i don’t have enough to pay all of the bills . my mom over drafted one of my accounts and now i have to pay that back with my next paycheck which means i’m losing $110 automatically when i get paid next .

i’m honestly just exhausted ? like . i’m twenty-three years old and i literally have no will to live because of this woman and the shit she’s put me through . i was not planning on making it to my birthday this year and i was definitely not planning on making it to august . i don’t know . to be frank , i don’t have the energy to care about anything anymore and my anxiety keeps telling my some of my closest friends are over me when there’s no reason for me to even believe that . i’m seeing them all next year at different times and i know they’re excited to see me but i sat here the other day just questioning if that’s even real . i don’t have any friends in the town i live in ; i don’t go out and do things because of corona and if i do , my mom forces herself along . if i buy myself something i have to buy her something or it turns into an argument and an all around guilt trip . 

i’m trying so hard to save enough so i can move out , but .. it’s almost impossible at this point . and i don’t know what to do . i work full time ; there is no reason i should have to consider getting another part time job just to survive . i shouldn’t have had to to parent my parent and sacrifice so much of my life . i shouldn’t be this mentally fucked up , but here i am , once again , crying over spilled tea .

anyways , if you read all the way through , i don’t know when i’m returning to tumblr , but when i do i am still going to be moving blogs . nonetheless , i’m on d*scord ( ♡ kezrah fan club president ♡#9812 ) and i’ve been doing more rp things on there if anyone wants to talk or do things again ( im always game for a welcomed distraction , even if it takes me a minute to reply ) ; i still , for the most part , have the same muses that are listed on my page . love u all loads nd loads .

[onepdumpsterfire]

Eviction

#1 in the modern living series 

(Man is writing in third person hard for me. haha i might just change to first person for the rest of the series.)

Summary: Ace just wants the moving to stop, Sabo is the most responsible of the three and Luffy thinks m&m dominoes is bullshit.

Word Count: 1798

Ace . Sabo . Luffy . Sanji . Nami

Out in the countryside, where neighbors were half a mile away from each other, stood a house filled with memories long passed. Boxes littered its hallways as its normally rambunctious inhabitants sullenly grumbled their way through their belongings.

“This is stupid!” Luffy yelled while throwing down the blanket he was folding. “Gramps owns this place, they can’t just kick us out!”

“We’ve been through this, Luff,” Sabo said while gesturing at Ace to keep putting away clothes. “The city sent Garp invoices about the property, and since he’s never here the city just decided to go through with demolishing this place and build the extension of the highway here anyway.”

“But still! They can’t just kick us out!”

“Yeah. They can,” Ace retorted, once again giving up on folding. “It’s called ‘Eminent Domain’. They can take it if it’s for public use, and since we aren’t on the lease for the house we gotta wait till gramps gets back to get the money the city’s paying for the property.”

“... so we sold our house?”

“No, they’re taking it; but legally they can’t without giving us compensation for it.”

Pouting, Luffy huffed about how he didn’t see what m&m dominoes had to do with a highway being built on their home. “Don’t worry about it too much, Luff.” Sabo interrupted his disgruntled brother, “one way or another, construction already started. It’s too late to change anything.”

“Which brings me to my next point,” the blond turns to Ace, who averts his gaze to a far off corner in an attempt to try and remove himself from the situation. “They gave us until the end of the month and we’re already two weeks away! Have you even packed your room?” The question was more rhetorical than anything. Sabo already knew the answer, but if he didn’t antagonize his brother now he’d never get it done.

“I...have?”

“Why does your answer sound like a question? Y’know putting your clothes in the laundry basket doesn’t count as packing.”

“But they are put away,” Ace looked back at Sabo with a shit-eating smile and a pointed finger that dared the other to question him again.

“Have you taken down your posters? Or put away your covers and comics?”

Though, Ace should have thought better than to start a battle with someone who had an arsenal compared to his one bullet. “Were you just planning on moving without them?” Slowly, Ace’s finger deflated and cold sweat appeared on his brow.

The two had the same fight every time they had to move. 

Ace hated moving, but in a military family, all they did was move.

It happened every few months and yet he could never be bothered to do it until the very last second, when everyone else already had taken all their stuff.

Garp thought that this might have been his way of rebelling against it, but one thing Ace hated more was being left behind; so he’d wait until his anxiety got too much and then pack in a panic.

Eventually, though, Ace started to plan to move out on his own. That’s when Garp, begrudgingly, told them they could move to a house he owned. To where Luffy grew up before Dragon (Luffy’s father and Garp’s son) left for the military to follow in Garp’s footsteps. Before all the moving started. Before Ace and Sabo were adopted by him.

It may have been a more rural area than the apartments they usually lived in but that meant there was more space for ‘outdoor adventures’ as Luffy put it. (Not to mention he really wanted to introduce them to the two neighbor kids he’d made friends with and still kept in touch with from when he was little). Nonetheless, the other two just liked finally having a permanent place to call home.

However, until after they moved did they realize that it meant they would get to see Garp less. Garp used to show up about every two weeks then every few months was moved to a new station, but now they’ll only get to see him whenever he had enough time to fly all the way to visit them. 

As cold as it may sounds, they soon decided that they’d have to get used to it eventually and moved on pretty quickly. They were about to start their twenties, eventually, they were going to have to. (It wasn’t like he was around that often, to begin with anyway.) And with that, they moved to the countryside, though they would have never guessed that almost half a year later they were going to get an eviction notice.

The city thought there was no one living there, Garp having never answered the invoices or being there when they visited, so they moved on with expanding the city. But after the three showed up it had to be delayed. The city sent another notice that the three had to send to Garp, but this time it was telling them they needed to move out by the end of the month. At first, Garp told them not to worry about it, that he’d solve it. Though, one week later it became apparent that there was no way of changing the city's mind. 

The three boys decided that they’d move into an affordable two-bedroom apartment that Garp helped them get. Though, after the initial month, they’d have to find a way to start paying bills and such on their own. 

Sabo wanted to move out as soon as possible but if Ace kept up his usual antics, moving would have to go on hold until he could persuade the man-child to get a move on.

“Can you take this a bit more seriously?” Sabo wanted to continue to pester Ace until he did as told, but a sudden knock at the door stopped their bickering. “Just go pack your room.” 

“Saved by the bell,” Reclining back on his seat, Ace ignored him once again, “We have like two days left, man. It won’t take long to pack, so I can just do it later.” 

“I’m serious, Ace!” Sabo shouted from the front door before opening it up to see their red-headed neighbor. 

“Hey Nami, they’re in the hall clearing out a closet.”

“Okay, I got some boxes in my truck,” she pointed behind herself.

“I got them, you guys start eating without me.” Sabo moved aside so she could come inside before exiting himself to get the boxes.

“I’m back!” Nami set the pizza boxes down on the kitchen counter, “and I brought food!”

“Food!” Luffy dropped what he was doing and ran to her side. ”Thanks, Nami!”

“Sweet,” jumping up, Ace walked straight to the fridge “I’ll get us some drinks.”

“Your brother is getting some boxes from my car, by the way,” Nami said loudly, in the off chance either of them cared at the moment. “Greeeaaat. More boxes, just what we needed.” Ace commented sarcastically while handing out some sodas. 

“Don’t be an ass,” Sabo came in holding three boxes stacked on top of each other, “I’ll put these in your room for when you start packing.”

“Do as you please your royal highness.” Ace jeered, “just so you know, if you come back and there’s no pizza, it’s your fault.” 

“It’s right down the hall, I’m not gonna take long.”

“Yeah, but Luffy just tried to put three slices in his mouth.”

“Mook! Ah c-ah-n mut soar shlifesh im my mouf!” (translation: look! I can put four slices in my mouth!)  That was Luffy gargling over a mouth full of pizza. “obbb!” (translation: oww!) And that was Nami hitting him on the head for talking with his mouth full

“Stop stuffing your face, and eat normally!” 

“...Make that four...”

-

After their lunch, they all started packing everything into the U-haul moving truck they’d rented earlier that day, and finally, they called up Sanji to tell him they were on their way.

Sanji is someone Luffy met a couple of days after they’d moved into town, and pestered into coming over to hang out with him and his brothers. They’d all hit it off pretty fast after that, so much so that when their home was set to be demolished Sanji was the one who suggested they move into the same apartments as him and even helped them checklist everything they needed for first-time renters then offered to help them move in.

One long trip and much lifting later, everything they needed from the house was moved into the apartment and the rest of the stuff was either thrown away or kept in Nami’s shed until they could sell it in the flea market or a thrift store (this includes any of Garp’s belongings that weren’t sent to him.)

With exhaustion pulling down on her and an awaiting hour drive back to her home, Nami left the boys to finish the rest by themselves. “Alright, it’s getting pretty late so I’m gonna head out.” a chorus of tired goodbyes followed her to the door, “call me if you guys need anything.”

Getting up from his position on the couch they’d just dragged in, Sabo walked her to the door. “Yeah. Thanks, again, for helping out today.” 

“Don’t worry about,” Nami playfully pushed at his shoulder, “but if you wanna repay me then how about helping me out in next year’s summer market?” Chuckling, Sabo agreed to her request.

“Hey! Wait up, I’ll walk you to your car.” Sanji went to stand next to Sabo, “I have class early in the morning and should get some rest.”

Repeating their goodbyes one final time, the two left the boys to their first night at their new home.

Bonus:

Immediately after they both left Ace fell asleep on the couch, already knowing what Sabo wanted them to do next.

“Oi, wake up!” Sabo shook him by the shoulders, “we still gotta put the bed frames back together!” though to no surprise he didn’t budge.

Giving a sigh of surrender, he turned to Luffy, “guess we’re gonna ha- oohoho both of you are pieces of shit.”

While Sabo was busy trying to wake Ace up, Luffy made himself comfortable on the floor next to Ace and fell asleep.

“Fine! Fine, I’ll do it myself.” The blond threw his hands in the air while walking away to a bedroom to re-build the bed frames. “I hope both of you get a crick in your neck.”

Ace and Luffy opened an eye to sneakily check if the coast was clear before high-fiving each other and actually falling asleep.

[blooming5th]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO.

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

Are they underrated?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO.

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?  — Pretty strictly, I think? I mean... I do always try my best to stick to canon events because although I am a big fan of AUs, I absolutely suck at writing canon-divergent characters. I also look out for possible dialectisms that come from Hinamori & put some work towards Hinamori’s personal development; all of this according to whatever has happened to her in canon / is shown by her in canon.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  There’s an entire world waiting beyond Hinamori’s pretty face? She’s still pretty much just a baby when in comparison to many other Lieutenants (being the second youngest, right after lil Yachiru), which makes her super innocent and funny. She’s also very upbeat, easy-going, and friendly! She’s such a devoted Lieutenant and honestly a great worker? Super strong with her kido spells, too! A great student?! A very, very good girl, honestly! She’s the greatest person you will ever meet, I swear to GOD !!

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  Most of the people, from what I can perceive from reading different opinions and have read through my years in Bleach forums and such, is that she’s pretty mentally weak. Hinamori seems to be extremely unbalanced and the previously mentioned devotion actually becomes... a weakness? Although I don’t agree with it ( mostly because I do believe her devotion towards Aizen was induced and not... something natural ), I can understand what people mean by this. Also, she mostly uses magic spells and keeps herself at a certain distance when in combat;; which people might easily perceive as her being weak when it’s just... her fighting style and body stature.

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  I have roleplayed Hinamori for over 6 years now? almost 7, actually. I made this blog in 2014, however, I was supposed to be writing Hitsugaya. I ended up changing my entire blog’s aesthetics, not even a week later, to match Hinamori and decided to try her out. Why? Well... long story short... the fandom was full of Hitsugaya blogs. asjhdfasjdhfg I didn’t want simply be just one more in the ocean of amazing Hitsugaya writers;; so I decided to write someone who gave me access to heavy development ( because there was so little content back then ) and fun times ! lil peach was the obvious answer!

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  Most of the time its music? Whenever I decide to focus on an rp blog, I create a go-to playlist that helps me channel the muse’s traits and helps me write with more ease! That... and re-reading manga pages that might make me come up with headcanons, which I, later, always tend to apply to threads. Oh yeah, uh... LMAO! How could I forget? Talking to friends and discussing things with them, also often lets my creativity soar and helps me channel my muse’s persona. uwu

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO.

Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO. 

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO. 

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day?  YES / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO.

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO.

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO.

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  —  Honestly, yes? I am a person that needs to receive constant criticism & is very open about it, too. I often find myself asking for criticism & find myself craving for bigger improvement.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  —  HELLS TO THE YES !! But then again... who doesn’t? It makes me so so happy whenever I receive a question or a simple message that might help me develop Hinamori’s character traits or behaviours? I love my girl so much;; knowing that others want me to gush about her amazingness & make her grow even more is nothing but an honour to me, tbh.

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  —  Well... yeah? But not in a bad way, of course! I absolutely love discussing headcanons and getting different points of view from things ( such as headcanons, in this specific topic ) so I can center myself and find a clearer way to analyze things! Discussing headcanons is dope, man!

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  —  This is going to be a pretty short response cause ;; I don’t care? I’m not here to really... please others. I’m here to have fun for my own self and to enjoy writing with other amazing fellas. Ain’t nobody gonna rain on my parade with unnecessary negativity;;

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  —  I haven’t ever seen many people hate Hinamori’s character? However, I do have seen quite the few people disregard her as the important character she is, or reduce her to a level that doesn’t... entirely fit the reason why she was created. Still, it’s none of my business. I don’t let it get to me or feel... the need to do anything about it? Or even talk about it? I can’t really change people’s views, so I often would just rather love my baby peach and let others do as they please.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  ABSOLUTELY? It’s even part of my rules like ;; please tell me if you ever find a grammatical error ANYWHERE in my blog. English isn’t my mother tongue and thus it can be very difficult for me to keep up with fancy writing while also sticking to correct grammar? idk if this makes sense but... yknow.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   —  I do think I am very easy going kind of fella? Sometimes it takes me forever go get to messages ( both through discord & IMS ), but I think that’s because lately I’ve been feeling super emotionally drained ;; I haven’t been out of my goddamn house for three months and I sincerely miss seeing faces that aren’t my parents. I did take a drive the other day but... sobs... it left such a bittersweet taste. ANYWAY !! Yes. I’m very easy going and talkative. Also a big, big enthusiastic? And positivist! I am someone who always prefers to stick to the bright side of life and ignore anything that might be the least problematic so yeah ~ I am uwu. Come meet me. I’m cool. I swear.

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

Tagged by: @hirako5hinji​   ( aka the greatest taichō ever. uwu go to bed harder next time, Anna. ♡ ) Tagging: ANYONE WHO WANTS TO DO IT !! just steal it from me. be gay. do crimes.