#my ultimate goal is to have someone cry over a fic i made

[tonowarii]

writing a sweet lo'ak angst rn mhm can't wait to make y'all cry jk

[bonny-kookoo]

Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader

Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else

Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?

Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?

A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.

On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.

He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.

Jungkook had made it.

Well, not quite.

Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.

"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.

And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.

"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.

"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.

"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.

Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.

You were so tiny next to him.

He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.

You were so cute.

You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.

"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.

"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.

If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.

You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.

"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.

"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.

"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.

"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.

"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.

Jungkook really pays attention.

"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.

"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.

"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.

Not the time Y/N, not the time.

"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.

"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.

You don't know what to say.

He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.

When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.

He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.

"Good girl."

It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.

"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.

"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-

"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.

"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"

"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.

And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.

It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.

Things are different between you two in general.

After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.

And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.

It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.

"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.

"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.

"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.

"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.

"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.

"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.

Almost.

"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.

"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.

"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.

"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.

He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.

"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.

"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.

"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.

It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.

You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.

He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.

"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.

"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.

"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.

He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.

Jungkook is frustrated.

He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.

And not just hugging and holding hands.

It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.

As far as he knows, he had done everything right.

But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.

'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.

'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.

'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.

But its your answer that makes him fume.

'Good to know.'

"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.

"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.

"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.

"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.

"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.

"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.

'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'

"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.

"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.

In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.

"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.

"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.

"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.

"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.

Thank god you're staying the night.

"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.

"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.

He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.

Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.

He's anything but.

He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.

There's no urgency in anything he does.

He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.

"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.

"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.

"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.

What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.

Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.

"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.

"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.

Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.

"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.

"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.

"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.

"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.

"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.

"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.

"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.

"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.

"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.

Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.

"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."

And he can't help but grin at you.

You really are the sweetest thing.

You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.

"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.

"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.

"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.

"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.

Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.

[jikookpancakes]

JIKOOK FIC RECS that no one asked for (2021)

but im giving anyway because THE TALENT IN THIS FANDOM IS INSANE

long post incoming!! this is probably just part 1 because i wont stop reading anytime soon so i’m inserting that link just in case i do make another one in the future

What’s a Soul Really Worth, Anyway? by thisneedsmorefilth - 130k words, fantasy, demon!jm, witch!jk, listen, this and the next one are my top 2 jikook fics of all time, so well-written, plot so exciting legit reads like a book, better than a lot of books tbh, the world-building is INSANE, jungkook and the gang accidentally summon demon!jimin and chaos ensue, especially for jungkook...and you know why!!!, so funny, angsty, cried so much, happy ending but listen to me: you gotta read the sequel too, YOU GOTTA.

Militat Omnis Amans: The Beginnings by edaen - 92k words, fantasy, werewolf!jk, vampire!jm, forbidden love, super slow burn but super worth it, JIKOOK IN THIS IS MY FAVORITE JIKOOK IN ANY FIC EVER EVER EVER, this is the ultimate all or nothing will freeze hell over for the other kind of love, and the way this is written is just so... how do i describe it. like you can just tell the author wanted to be very realistic with their feelings. you’ve seen the word count, this is SLOW burn. like you will legit feel their struggle to just be able to love each other and while it hurts, it’s also SO GLORIOUS. i love this one so much and if you like reading angst with happy ending but like cranked up to 200% then read this. bonus feels if you read the whole series

Until Dawn (series) by edaen - this is the long series where the previous one above is part of. highly rec if you love fantasy and you wanna read about bts being a rag tag group of supernatural beings fighting evil yay. also it makes the above fic more satisfying because you see more of jikook just being tgt and in love (with bonus angst because of course)

7 Signs by NamHyora - 27k words, secret spies au, abo, alpha!jk, omega!jm who is always used as a raven in their operations aka they use jimin and his attractive self to attract people and gather information or acquire targets and all that spy stuff, and his bestie alpha jk is not too happy about it hehe, friends to lovers, iove this one so much i wish it was longer but i think the author is planning to write a sequel!

Drop Like Confetti by annie_vi - 110k words, ceo!jk, age difference, age swap, ahhh i love this fic so much cause jimin smart and mature and has this no bs attitude, and he can keep up with jk despite the age gap and the difference in status/experiences, jk sexy dilf in this one eheh, i love it cause the drama/angst tackles a very real concern for such couples, like there’s no angst just for the sake of having angst, it really makes sense where they’re both coming from, they’re so whipped for eo too so love that for me

Fold it Up Like Origami by annie_vi - 99k words, gamer!jk, model!jm, same author as above and jk is so boyfriend goals in this one and in all this author’s fics in general like wow my standards are so high now i will legit be single forever just reading jikook fics (with no regrets), secret relationship due to their celeb status, well-written as usual, dialogues/banter in this author’s fics are just YES

The Tournament by kinkmins - 34k words, prince!jm, bodyguard!jk, abo, i’ll paste part of the summary here “Prince Jimin gets ready to hold a tournament where 50 alphas compete for a chance to court him, his father the king hires a new bodyguard who is a little too blunt and a little too talkative.“, i really love this oneeeee

Screwed Up and Brilliant by annie_vi - 113k words, escort!jk, jimin needed a date for a work event and in comes jungkook, escort extraordinaire with a no sex rule and jimin is just dasdkjfhasl, a lot of that “is this real or is he just acting” kinda angst, fluff smut angst

Like Everything Glows by annie_vi - 180k words, merman!jm, aquatic vet!jk, ok this is like my 4th rec from this author just read all their fics you’re welcome, this is their first fantasy fic but soso good, i rec’d this to someone who doesn’t really read fics and she really loved it and said “their love is so pure hhh”, she’s right

Track one: I love you by honeydice - 30k words, they’re “just” best friends, lots of pining it hurts, there’s some yoonmin and mentioned past jinmin in this so just noting in case, angst, denial of feelings, siiiiigh

InYou by edaen - 4k words, pwp :), abo, the morning after jikook mating, more sexytimes ensue + fluff

Falling For You Again by Rose_gold715 - 30k words, amnesia au, jk forgets about jimin and idk just something about this hits right in the feels. btw i don’t support the jk hated jm before in real life agenda so i don’t like this fic for that reason but i like this fic because i love me some good painful angst with happy ending.

The President’s Son by AmeliaBedelia - 55k words, bodyguard!jk, president’s son!jm, jk is assigned to shadow jm bc his life is under threat, and things develop :), jm is jk’s gay awakening :) :)

A Touch of Sin by pettey - 102k words, fantasy au, police officer!jk, supernatural!jm, shamanism, LOOK AT THE RANGE OF JIKOOK WRITERS YALL, this is such an interesting concept, so different from every other fic i’ve read, really well-written, sometimes you come across fics and you cant help but go “someone out there rly blessing me with this art for free”

Tears to the Tide by haromame - 65k words, abo, alpha!jk, omega!jm, honestly there’s not a lot of abo elements it’s focused more on jungkook having ptsd as he just came from war, established relationship jikook, he comes back home to jimin and things have just... changed. except their love ok THEY LOVE EO SO MUCH this made me cry so f much ugh so good tho.

Zero Hour by edaen - 5k words, canon compliant, a little drabble based around rosebowl jikook, it’s part of a series/collection of canon compliant jikook so if you’re looking for more canon compliant here you go!!, also if you can’t tell already i tend to like several things from a single author, i haven’t read their other fics im legit saving for sad days but i am confident enough to say their other fics are also rec-worthy.

Wonder by wordcouture - 7k words, im sorry in advance, mcd :( pls take care of yourself, i don’t like sad endings ok i don’t, but this is so popular and i was like, ok let’s see what the hype is all about, i get it now, :((((((((((((((((((((, well-written tho, bc the author will manage to crush your heart in just 7k words ha ha

The Omega Revolution by PinkBTS  - 158k words, abo, alpha!jk omega!jm, dystopian au, the hunger games more specifically mockingjay vibes, angst with happy ending but there’s some...things... lost along the way and i think that’s realistic for a dystopian war au, well-written

Blind Switch - 226k words, jockey!jk, rich spoiled brat!jm, jm gets exiled to his grandparents ranch where he meets jk yeehaw, im sorry for the yeehaw, anyway fluff smut angst enemies friends to lovers hurt/comfort slow burn happy ending, all the good stuff, ugh jk so boyfriend goals, also the amount of fluff in the later chapters thank u writer

Finally by Rose_gold715 - 12k words, abo, alpha!jk, omega!jm, angst with happy ending, jikook mate out of convenience and jimin runs away from jk and his pack feeling unloved and outcasted, but jungkook goes after him :((

Park Jimin’s Guide to Good Housekeeping by Ashlyn17 - 235k words, fantasy au, when i say jikook has the best fic writers i mean jikook has the best fic writers because THE WORLD-BUILDING in this one?, THE PLOT TWIST?, yesyesyes, jungkook is a powerful fae and jimin is assigned to be his housekeeper hehe, listen my entire fic rec has several that could be great netflix shows and this is definitely one of them

A Spell That Reminds Me of Your Name by Chimneycricket - 42k words, wizards!au, enemies to friends to lovers and the development felt natural, well-written plus the author sometimes makes art of their fics and other jikook fics and posts on twitter, both their fics and art are so good, i’ve heard good stuff about their other fics too :)

that’s it for now!

just a quick one about my preferences: idc about tops/bottoms, i read just about anything but i prefer fantasy and multi-chaptered fics, i love established relationship jikook so hmu with recs anytime, i don’t like reading anything with cheating and mcd, i love fics where jk and jm are just so friggin in love they are just IT for eo, and at the end of the day even if there are elements to the fics i wouldn’t normally read, as long as they’re well-written then i’m all for it

[deathisnotyourdestinysparrow]

Hey, @megalommi !!!

I made an alternate version of your boy. I hope that’s cool!

First thing’s first though, I would like to preface that I came up with this guy before seeing this. It looks like I wasn’t the first person to have an idea like this! Props to that anon.

Now, with that out of the way—

Say hello to my alternate version of Swap!Baggs, AKA Nodd!

His dream was to become captain of the Royal Guard. But now, that’s out the window.

After Gaster vanished, Papyrus became the Royal Scientist, but it was obvious that he wasn’t happy in his position. He kept pushing Sans further and further away, and Sans, in turn, steadily became more and more worried. One day, he breaks into the lab to confront him, right as Papyrus is about to perform The Experiment. Instead, Sans and Papyrus have a fight, ending with Sans forcibly taking the experimental “treatment” himself, just so Papyrus couldn’t. At first, it almost seems like there was no effect at all, and the experiment was a failure. But over time, Sans discovers he now has different magical abilities, and an inability to sleep. Sans elects to keep this a secret from Papyrus. He then uses his newfound influence to remove Papyrus from the position he hated, and instate himself as the new Royal Scientist. Despite his inexperience in the field, he’s a quick learner.

Papyrus is more than a little confused about this new development, and a bit suspicious. But he knows everything about Sans. He’s a little blue ball of sunshine, and he’s always been terrible at keeping secrets, ever since he was a baby-bones. He would never lie to his bro, right?

Pap does figure out the truth eventually. He feels conflicted about the power his brother now has, and more than a little concerned that he felt the need to keep secrets from him, and opts to go into hiding while he searches for a cure. Sans has tried several times to find him, to explain that he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, least of all him, but he’s always failed. He’s thought about getting some… “volunteers” to aid in the search, but he’s afraid that will only complicate things. Besides, he doesn’t actually want to control people. Does he?

As tensions start to run high in the underground, especially in the cities where things are most crowded, Sans changes his name to “Nodd,” and starts offering free “counselling” services to the stressed monsters of the underground, as well as performing a relaxing hypnosis act on night-time TV as a way to keep the populace calm and in check. He also helps to keep Asgore relaxed and clear-headed, so that he can make smarter decisions for his subjects. And sure, maybe not all of those decisions are really made by him. But Nodd’s careful not to overstep too many boundaries. It’s a lot to juggle, and he runs himself ragged daily to keep up with it all.

But it’s okay. Everyone else is relaxed and happy, and the underground is relatively peaceful. That’s all that matters.

He does want to escape the underground, of course, but that's not his main goal. He just wants to maintain the peace. He knows that being released from the underground would disturb that peace, as there would most likely be a struggle against the humans, and a push for everyone to move out to the surface. But he also knows that being free would be better for everyone in the end, including himself. So really, whether everyone gets out or not isn't his concern. His only objective is to keep everyone happy, as childish of an ideal as that is.

On a pacifist run, he serves as a place the player can return to, to quickly relax and get full on HP. He also provides advice, if asked. But if you ask him for advice on something, or someone, he deems too dangerous for a human like you to be fighting, he’ll convince you to walk back a good long way through the underground, to someplace safer, and you’ll have to walk all the way back. He won’t flat-out try to hypnotize you into giving up, though.

On a genocide run, he tries to stop the player in the kindest way he knows how: by putting them to sleep, forever. But ultimately, he fails because he doesn’t have the heart to do it. He couldn’t use his power on you even if he wanted to, simply because he can’t. Stop. Crying.

On the surface, he works at a children's sleep clinic.

So, like… the inspo for this guy hit me outta nowhere like a freight train. I was trying to make a purer, sweeter, non-bastard version of Baggs. Or at least, less of a bastard. Sort of like an Anti-Baggs? Dunno if I hit that mark or not.

Not that I don’t like bastards, though. I love me a good-old-fashioned bastard boy. I just also like sweet little angel babies sometimes, too.

I also wrote a short X-Reader fic about Nodd, because why not. You can read that here if you want.

[piano958]

My first AO3 Post: Don't Leave Again (chapter 1, Narusasu/Sasunaru)

So I wrote this after being horribly sad and stuck in a hole. Decided to post it, and was pleasantly surprised by the number of people who wanted to read it!

This is the first chapter. There are nine chapters (currently) in total, please check it out if you like it!! Also yes, it is indeed a Naruto fic. I am not sorry, I am just now getting into Naruto :')

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Link to fic Content Warnings: Angst, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Alcohol, Drunkenness

Summary: Sasuke has been gone for so long that almost everyone has given up on him and moved on, but for some reason, Naruto is still hung up on him. Speaking of Naruto, he is not doing well in the slightest. The man is depressed, anxious, and on the brink of giving up on life in general. When suddenly one day Sai appears at Naruto's door with information on Sasuke, things are about to be shaken up out of nowhere.

Notices: They’re adults but aged up. Kinda like if Naruto had started a little later than it did? I don't know how to exactly explain it, but they're adults (around like 21.) This takes place in an 'AU' where the ninja war was more of a general thing than part of the main story, and where Sasuke isn’t as fucking stupid. Also, a lot of these words were supposed to be italicized but I wrote this all on my phone so it didn't carry over; that's why the formatting is weird too. READ. THE. WARNINGS. Thanks.

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Chapter 1: A Collapse Rarely if ever did anyone see Naruto cry. He was always a positive person. Being on his own had taught him that nothing would get done by moping, and a smile made you far less of a target than crying did. He was quite used to the side eyes he received every day, though a majority of it changed from angry glances when he was a kid to regular ones now. Realizing that Naruto could, in fact, kill them and blow up the village easily but didn’t and instead fought for the village probably has sunk in a little bit.

It would’ve mattered a few years ago. It would’ve mattered to Naruto a lot that people didn’t see him as a monster anymore. His ultimate goal, becoming Hokage and proving his worth, didn’t matter for a second if he couldn’t save Sasuke.

Sasuke shouldn’t matter that much, and Naruto was fully aware of that. Even Sakura had given up, truly given up, on the fucking stupid black-haired ninja. And she had been absolutely head-over-heels for the man. Naruto, however, just couldn’t give up and he didn’t know why.

It was starting to get to him. Like, really really get to him, that he couldn’t shake Sasuke. The team had previously discussed the possibility of killing the ninja should he ever become hostile and Naruto absolutely did not take the conversation well. He was no stranger to panic attacks, but no one else was aware of that and they almost had a meltdown watching the smiley, bubbly boy crumble. He wished they didn’t see that. They check on him far too often now and look at him questioningly when he does anything but smile.

He still hadn’t let them see him cry. No one would get that pleasure.

The dining table Naruto sat at felt cold. It felt empty. Naruto didn’t eat very often anymore. He still adored ramen; no one could take that love away from him. He didn’t buy any now, though, and instead only got some when he knew people suspected something was up and he wanted to keep face.

Cold. Empty. It genuinely didn’t bother him most of his life, and he enjoyed having space to himself, but tonight was one of those nights.

Some years ago Naruto learned something pretty awful: he healed super fast. The fox inside of him gave such a huge boost to his chakra that any wounds he received would heal pretty much overnight. This made him sort of reckless as a ninja, and a fun puzzle for the doctors at the Leaf hospital.

How could that possibly be awful? Well, Naruto had learned a very common form of coping: self-harm. As a ninja, you’re surrounded by knives and blades all day every day. You practically carry a dozen everywhere you go. Pair that, Naruto’s incredible healing speed, a young human whose life is seemingly falling apart at every turn, and you have a recipe for disaster. Sometimes, it’s literally the only thing that kept him alive other than being a disgrace.

Being treated like a monster, losing the only thing he ever considered to be a friend and facing the idea of killing him, losing his teacher, being alone, feeling so absolutely terribly hopeless… Naruto was stuck in a hole. He couldn’t see a way out of it. Sasuke wasn’t coming back any time soon, and he could never accept his life’s goal without him. He’d rather die with Sasuke than kill him. In fact, even if Sasuke came back there was still something eating at Naruto… something to do with him and Sakura… something to do with Naruto never being okay. He couldn’t figure it out, and it was eating at him like a heaven curse. Even if Sasuke was back, Naruto would still be a monster and would still have nothing. Sasuke hadn’t ever cared about Naruto’s attempts to bring him home, and even though Naruto would chase him till the end of time… well… it didn’t matter. Naruto didn’t matter. He was nothing but a burden and a tool, happy to give his power to the village, but in the end, he knew whatever this was that was eating at him would never allow him to become Hokage.

He trudged off to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He sat at the bottom of it, cleaning himself vaguely and staring mostly, eyeing the knife he kept in there. Did it really matter that he did this? If he healed overnight, no one would ever know, and for the times it was too deep some bandages and an extra few days were all he needed. He couldn’t hurt anyone else if they didn’t know, and there was no other thread than this one tethering him to the earth. This was, quite frankly to Naruto, the only thing he had control over.

Kurama wasn’t happy about what he was doing, but Naruto didn’t listen. The fox would heal him regardless. He felt what would be the angry stomping if the fox was in front of him in his chest, demanding him to stop because even it knew when enough was enough, but Naruto didn’t listen. He continued on and on until the last thing he was red. It was fine, he’d wake up anyway. Nothing mattered, not even his own life.

Except… this time he didn’t quite make it to red. A knock sounded on the door. Normally Naruto would ignore it, as it was probably just Sakura or Sensei checking on him, but the knocking grew frantic. Naruto groaned, picked himself up, and bandaged his arms the same way he always did when he awoke, and yelled, “Coming, just give me a minute!”

The knocking stopped suddenly, and Naruto rolled his eyes as he took his time. No one could know, after all. He approached the door mentally preparing himself to act happy.

When he opened the door, a black-haired someone collapsed into his arms, coughing blood. It wasn’t Sasuke.

[therenlover]

Gimme Swayze (Part 4.5 of Till Forever Falls Apart, A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Tags: Fluff, Dancing, Gratuitous Dirty Dancing References, Love Confessions, Insecure!Reader, Minor Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild Language

Word Count: 2600~

This has been cross posted as the first chapter of the fic Cry To Me on my Ao3!

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“Dance with me, Peter?”

Y/N stood in the middle of the floor holding her hand out to him, hair mussed and wild with cheeks still streaked from tears shed earlier in the night. There, in the lamplight, she looked ethereal. Peter could imagine her as she was then in some grand Viennese ballroom. Every man, woman, and child would want to be seen on her arm, fully disregarding her casual clothes and the unhinged fire in her eyes, but she was choosing him. Something in his heart told him she always would.

With a smile and a groan, he pushed up off the creaky old plush couch and stretched his arms. “Are you gonna put on some music or are we gonna have to make our own?”

Peter didn’t miss the way Y/N’s breath hitched as she rushed over to the record player near the window. Her fingers skimmed over the knee-high stack of records at the base of the machine, searching through for something specific. After a moment she let out a small victorious noise. She pulled out the item she was looking for, a plastic-wrapped vinyl sheath, before holding it out towards Peter with a grin. Outside, the rain had slowed to a gentle pitter-patter on the concrete.

The paper cover was plain white, but it had a large title scrawled across the front in black magic marker: Y/N’s Ultimate Romance Mixtape.

“You put a mixtape… on a record? How much did this thing cost you?” Peter asked, walking to Y/N’s side to give the vinyl a closer look.

“Not just any mixtape,” she groaned, motioning for him to flip it over, “Our mixtape!” There on the back of the record, just as she promised, was a tracklist. Upon first viewing, by any average person, it would look pretty normal. To Peter, though, it was like looking down at a list of the top hits of his life. Time In A Bottle, Strange Magic, Born to Run, Sweet Dreams ...

“How did you-”

“I just started finding the songs I saw you listening to more than once, one day,” Y/N replied. She was staring at the floor again, wringing her hands. Was she… embarrassed? “I know it’s kinda weird and creepy… okay, it’s really weird and creepy, but I didn’t have anything else to do. It was just me in the Paris apartment back then and I still technically wasn’t a real person in the eyes of the government so I couldn’t work. What I’m trying to say is it was a nice way to pass the time, waiting for the newest song on the list to release, sitting patiently in the record shops hoping to hear a snippet of a melody I heard you humming along to in a vision...”

As she spoke, Y/N’s eyes seemed to glaze over. By the time her stream of consciousness had turned into less of a pour and more of a drip she looked halfway caught between the world and a dream. Peter could only imagine that when you’d lived as long as she had sometimes the past could seem like a dream. He’d been around for about 31 years, 67 if you included the years he lost between dimensions, and even he found himself looking back on parts of his childhood as if they were someone else’s. What would it be like in 10 more years? 20? 30? 100 didn’t even seem plausible.

Peter was only snapped from his internal monologue when Y/N snatched the record out of his hands and held it to her chest protectively. Her dreamy look was gone, replaced with one much more defensive.

“What?”

“If you’re just gonna gawk at it, I’m not gonna show you,” she said, carefully setting the record down on top of the closed player before turning her attention back to Peter, “I know it’s a little odd-”

“It’s cute!” Peter was quick to respond. He held up his hands, giving a small gesture of goodwill, before moving in to wrap her in his arms. She accepted, however stiffly. “Really, babe, it’s cute! I promise,”

With what seemed like a great amount of effort, Y/N relaxed into his touch. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just a little nervous… I’ve never done this before,”

“Oh, come on,” Peter’s mouth was almost against her skin now. His hot breath tickled the sensitive curve of her ear as he rocked their bodies back and forth on the balls of his feet, half calming and half comedic. “You don’t have to be nervous, Y/N. It’s just me,”

“That’s the problem!” Y/N was floundering in earnest now, her little heart pounding hard enough that Peter could feel it against his own chest. “With other guys it was easy! I knew they weren’t the end goal, and I knew… well, I thought they’d die long before you ever came into the picture, but now you’re here, and you’re you, and I’m so fucking terrified of messing everything up,”

Peter moved his hands to loosely grip her arms, rubbing calming circles into her flesh. “Babe, newsflash, I really like you. Like, stupidly like you. Head-over-heels type shit,” he paused to laugh, “and hey, I’m not the one who sees the future or anything, but I don’t see this going bad anytime soon. So take a deep breath, put on our mixtape, and just… let go,”

Y/N let her eyes find Peter’s, peering up through heavy lashes. “What if I fall?”

He kissed her softly on the forehead before he answered, “Baby, I have super speed. You can’t fall faster than I can catch you,”

The softest of smiles graced Y/N’s face before she pulled away, turning back to the record player and grabbing the record off the top as she opened it. She paused for a second, pensive, and Peter thought he might have to bolster her again before she turned back to him.

“Side A or Side B?”

Peter shrugged. “Whatever side you like the most,”

“Side B it is…” she smirked as she set the record on the table and got it spinning, dropping the needle gently onto the edge of the vinyl with a practiced hand, “That’s my side,” Under the sounds of the gentle rain and the city, the opening notes to a song halfway familiar began to ring out through the old bones of the apartment. The ancient wood seemed to creak its own melody under Y/N’s feet while she started to sway. Peter tried to follow along as best he could.

“I hope you know I can’t dance,” He mumbled, swinging his hips to and fro as Y/N giggled at him.

“Oh, I know,”

“Then why did you ask me to?”

“Just because you’re bad at dancing doesn’t mean I don’t wanna dance with you,”

“That’s so cheeeeesy, Y/N!”

She threw her head back as she shimmed into Peter’s arms across the floor. “And you love it,”

When she was finally in his arms again, they swayed loosely to the tune. There was no real rhythm to it, all clumsy feet and breathless laughter as they bumped their way through Y/N’s greatest hits, but it came from the heart. There were no doomsday clocks ticking in the background, no expectations of what to was to come. It was just the music around them and the rain in the street and the jerky unnatural movements of Peter Maximoff doing his best to internalize the beat as The Mamas and the Papas slowly drifted into Solomon Burke. Y/N hummed thoughtfully, pulling away from Peter’s arms as it began, bringing her arms up above her head as she shook her hips. Peter just groaned.

“You actually put the song from Dirty Dancing on the mixtape?”

Y/N didn’t respond, instead bopping her head along with the beat.

“I can’t believe it. You’re not even gonna answer me,”

She gave a wink and continued on.

“Really? The silent treatment?”

“I’m not saying another word until you embrace the Swayze, Peter,”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep inhale, and then stared daggers into Y/N’s eyes as he shrugged his shoulders. “You want Swayze, baby? You really want Swayze?”

“Oh, I wanna see some Swayze, Peter,”

“How’s this for Swayze?”

With a burst of superhuman speed, Peter raced across the floor, snatched Y/N up by her midriff, and lifted her above his head, delighting in her giggles and shrieks while he spun her. He may not have been the best dancer or the best mover, but Peter was good at a few things; things like utilizing his surprising strength and speed.

He kept Y/N aloft for a moment before gently returning her to the floor. There she stood, slightly dazed, as she got her bearings back, gripping the sleeve of Peter’s t-shirt for balance. To put it simply she was a giggling mess.

Peter loved watching her like this, carefree and loose, unbound from the tethers of trauma and time for a few brief moments. It made his heart soar higher to know that he made her like this. He was the one who threatened to toss her in with the seals at Central Park, which made her laugh so hard she almost yakked up her hotdog. It was him who sat with her on the couch throwing popcorn at the fuzzy TV screen whenever she suddenly froze up at the sound of a scream, distracting her enough that she could enjoy the movie till the end. His hands were the ones she grabbed whenever she saw a cute dog on the street and wanted to get close fast enough to pet it. He was a part of her joy, a minuscule blip on her radar making waves in her life for the better. Peter didn’t know if there was anything else he wanted to be in life that could mean more than that.

When Y/N finally got her giggles under control, she looked up at him with wet eyes and whispered. “That was pretty Swayze, babe,”

The second it left her lips she was in stitches again, her knees buckling as she collapsed to the floor, whole body wracked with her laughter. Peter joined her this time, settling himself down by her side and allowing the hysteria to wash over him like a pleasant wave. Once all was said and done, he and Y/N laid shoulder to shoulder on the antique sitting-room rug, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes and soft smiles. The record, all spun out, sat forgotten on the turntable.

“I know I’ve told you this already,” Y/N said, eyes glued to the rotating fan above her, “but I love you, Peter. I love you and I love who I am when I’m with you. You don’t have to say it back, I mean, I know this has all been ridiculously fast, but… I dunno. Even without the whole fated to cross paths thing, I think I’d love you now anyways, you know?” She bit her bottom lip, groaning, “Sorry, sorry, I know things are moving way too quick-”

Peter shushed her gently, rolling onto his side to look her in the eye. “Babe, you’re talking to the fastest man alive. Quick is literally in my name. Don’t worry about it,”

“Yeah. I guess it is, huh?”

“And for the record,” he took a deep breath, steeling himself, “I love you too, Y/N. I have for a while now. It has to have been since… well all the way back when Dr. Strange had me tied up at your work. I was so sure that I had screwed everything up with you, that you were gonna let him drag me to superhero prison and wash your hands of me, but you didn’t. You came in there guns blazing, even when you knew I had fucked up big time and accidentally tried to steal some real spooky shit, and from that second on I never once felt like you would ever be willing to get rid of me just because I’m annoying,”

She nudged him with her shoulder. Not hard, just enough to jostle him. “You’re not annoying,”

“Have you met me? Annoying is literally my middle name,”

“No,” Y/N’s voice got soft, “No, your middle name is Django. Your favorite color is blue, but specifically bright teal-ish blue like the blue moon ice cream your mom used to buy you on vacation back when you were a little kid. You can’t dance but you have surprisingly good rhythm, and even if you’re not proud of your voice you should be because if you weren’t the world’s fastest man you could be touring as a singer with your guitar. You always sleep on the right side of the bed, your favorite season is the weird limbo between summer and fall, you can’t stand the James Bond movies, and if anybody asked you’d say your favorite food is Twinkies but it’s not. Your favorite food is pierogies, specifically the cheese and potato kind from Nana Dudek’s in Polish town because they remind you of your Nana the few times you remember going to see her. All of that is true, and so is the fact that you love me,”

She went quiet, eyes watching the blades of the ceiling fan in their lazy rotations. Slowly, she reached out her hand, interlocking her pinkie with Peter’s own without even having to look down and find it.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that,” Peter whispered.

Y/N let a huff of air out of her nose, a silent laugh at a joke only she knew.

“You’re not supposed to say anything. I just wanted you to know,”

“Know what?”

“Know that even if you can never build up the courage to tell me you love me again, I’ll be just fine, because I know, and you know, and that’s all that matters,”

Something in Peter’s heart, however small, shattered at just how vulnerable Y/N sounded.

Both of them were jaded in their own ways. They had seen bloodshed and torment and the roots of human suffering. It wasn’t always as simple as saying ‘I love you’. Sometimes the world left you a broken pulp with little faith and saying three little magic words just wasn’t possible. There’s no place for love in the heart of a person at war, nor is there any guarantee that they’ll ever be able to express that forbidden weakness again. It’s a commodity, like hope, that came in rare supply to people like Peter and Y/N. That being said, in the safety and warmth of the sitting room with the cozy couch and the antique rug and the ceiling fan and the record player, neither of them were at war, and Peter would be a damn fool if he didn’t take advantage of that.

He rolled onto his side once again, waiting there in silence until Y/N rolled onto her side to greet him, and then, with all of the feelings he had hidden in his heart since the moment he ran at top speed for the first time he kissed her.

Without hesitation, she kissed him back.

-------

a/n: Sorry this took so long to get out! It’s short, but I wanted it to be long enough to be it’s own mini chapter, so our minor friends can enjoy the sweetness without having to lose any of the story in the spicy bit. That being said, the spicy bit comes next lol. My shift bar is being fussy, and I need to sleep, so I’m signing off for the night, but thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, let me know!

Please do not post my work to any other sites, thank you ! <3

[gyllenhaalstories]

Hi can you write a fic about dad!jake because there’s not a lot of them on here (if u want) and plus your writing is amazing hands down one of the best jake blogs on here ♥️

i do agree, there is a cruel lack of dad!jake. it’s so unfortunate! i mean, he looks like uncle goals and he would make the best dad in the entire world! thank you so so so so so much anon! you have no idea how happy your kind words make me! you didn’t give any specific setting so i went for the ultimate softness! just because i love naming characters, let me introduce you to toddler (ish) rose gyllenhaal! EXTRAS: i suggest you listen to the cinematic orchestra’s to build a home to get in the same mindset as i was while writing this. i found the gif on google image and couldn’t find the original creator, i’m sorry! WARNINGS: none except i don’t know how kids act and like what they are except very strange creatures so i’m so sorry if my awkwardness is showing through this fic! i hope you, and everyone reading this, will enjoy it! ( 1500 words)

BUILD A BEAR

“Teddy Bear!” Your daughter pointed, her head and arm peeking from the pillow fort you helped her build in your living room. “Big Teddy Bear!” She pointed at her father.

You chuckled, realizing that Jake has returned from running errands.

“You learned new words? I’m very proud of you, sweetheart!” Jake frowned, confused, as he planted a kiss on your forehead, then your daughter’s. Proud was an understatement. He would brag about how smart your daughter was at the simplest thing. Whether she fed herself without making a mess, drew an absolute chaotic art piece with her crayons or found her way to snuggle up in her parents’ bed despite being told not to, he was so proud. She amazed him.

It amazed him how she looked exactly like the two of you combined. She had his piercing blue eyes, but they had your shape, soft and cheerful. She had a bright smile like him. She had your button nose. She had that little curl in her hair that resembled yours. A bad encounter with the coffee table during a tickling session left her with a tiny scar on her chin, which looked exactly like one of Jake’s shaving accidents when he was young and innocent.

It amazed him how fast time flew by. Not even yesterday, the two of you were hearing her first cry and hugging her for the first time. It amazed him how much love he had to give this bundle of joy, while he believed he could never love someone or something as much as he loved you.

Rose repeated the nickname again and again. Maybe it was her new obsession. Last week, she tasted her very first lemon and kept screaming lemon all the time. Quite the learning experience, she had her father’s vocal chords that was for sure.

Jake shrugged it off and brought the mail to the kitchen table. He did not bother taking off his jacket, he kneeled with the two of you. He opened his legs and arms, hoping Rose would crawl and sit with him, but she just laughed and pointed at his face again. “Bear, Daddy is a bear!”

It finally hit you and you brust into laughter, leaving Jake in his confusion.

Rose pretended that her fingers were scissors and she mimicked the snip snip sound as she ran her little hand around Jake’s beard.

“She thinks you look like a bear.” You, too, brought your hand to Jake’s face and you stroked it lovingly. Rose agreed by nodding her head frantically. “You know, with the beard.”

“That’s not nice! I’m not a bear!” Jake pouted and pretended to be sad, which resulted in your daughter covering his face with kisses.

“No sad Daddy, I love my teddy bear!” She hugged him tight and Jake widened his eyes. He mouthed that she didn’t have a teddy bear and suddenly this looked like the biggest emergency in the world.

He scooped her up like she was as light as a feather, pulling out the cutest giggles out of her tiny body. “Get in, sweetheart, we’re going shopping!”

You told Jake you preferred to stay at home and clean around the house. He insisted he would prefer to have his princesses with him, but you gave him a wink. He was quicker to understand it meant you were clearing their evening schedule for something more entertaining than laundry, baby food making and bento box lunches binge watching.

So Jake got the little toddler ready. He let her pick her hat, her scarf and her mittens while he put on her boots. She usually hated that part, but he had this magic trick of singing a silly tune as he did so. It made her want to sing too, and forget about the heartbreaking moment her feet leave her favourite slippers. She opted for teal mittens, an orange hat with a pink pompom and a purple scarf with stripes. “She’s New York Fashion Week ready!”

You laughed, kissing them good bye.

*~*~*

Jake drove to the nearest mall and carried Rose over his shoulder until they reached the door of the shopping center.

“Where are we going?” She kept asking, from the moment she was in the car to now, when Jake was all scrunched over to hold her tiny hand.

“It’s a surprise, Rosie!”

“I love surprises!”

He made the walk to the Build a Bear store fun. He went to grab a muffin from a food stand and shared it with her, washing her hands so she would not stick them every where. He even stopped by a clothing store, taking notes of the pieces she liked from the front windows so he could get her new outfits. And when they finally made it to the store... She was running and dragging Jake along. He was surprised by her strength, but he really should not be. Ever since she was a baby she was strong like the Hulk, or like her mother. He liked to think she got it from you, his super woman with super strength and super everything.

“You can pick one, okay? And we’ll bring it to life together! Poof!” He added sounds to his explanations, catching her attention.

Rosie was impossible to control. She ran from one corner to the other, apologizing adorably when she bumped into a friendly employee. She would pick up a giraffe, no a cat, no, a dog, no, a dragon... Honestly Jake wanted to buy them all. He was aware the mall was closing soon, and he knew better than to torture these poor employees with an excited child who skipped her nap and would crash at any moment (or well, she would when he would stop giving her M&Ms to buy her concentration).

She finally made up her mind on a light golden bear. It came with a flower on its ear and pink paws. “It’s perfect, just like you!” Jake exclaimed and booped her nose. He let the employees teach Rose how to fill the plushie with stuffing until it was the best cuddle buddy in the world.

“How should we name her?”

“Jake!”

He shook his head, trying not to be insulted by the fact she still associated bears with him.

“No!” She listed possibly fifteen names that made less and less sense and gave the employees a headache.

Rose pulled on Jake’s pants, asking him to come down to her level, which he did. “What is Mommy’s favourite flower?” She asked and he answered.

“Daisy!” They both said in sync. It was a perfect name, because the bear had a daisy on it and Jake and you really had this flower theme going on. You, in fact, hesitated between so many flower names for your kid.

“Let’s show Mom your new friend!”

*~*~*

Jake managed to spend the entire car ride without a cry, a scream or a word of complaint until he accidentally woke Rose up from her nap by picking her up. She was tired and fussy. It was dinner time, but you and Jake decided it was better if she slept a bit more before. Your plans for the evening got bumped to tomorrow, but you could not care any less. Rose and Daisy were the new partners in crime and they were too adorable to resist.

“I have another idea!” Jake announced and set Rose down on the couch, inviting you to do the same. He disappeared in the laundry room, where he threw a soft blanket in the dryer with a dryer sheet. He then ran to the kitchen and prepared a platter of hot chocolate. He made sure that Rose’s was just warm enough and he placed a big marshmallow on it. He set the platter down and left again, only to come back with a warm blanket.

He turned on the television to play Frozen and sat on the couch with Rose in between the two of you. Your bodies were wrapped in a coccoon of warmth. And your heart felt the same. Rose quickly fell asleep, she did not even make it to the pat where Olaf appeared, and it was her favourite moment. She snored lightly, clutching on Daisy.

Your head was resting on Jake’s shoulder and you looked up to him.

If somebody told you a couple of years ago that you would live a life like this, you would have never believed it.

You have a beautiful house to live in. A job you love that allowed you as much family time as you wanted. A significant other that was nothing less than your soulmate. And you had this precious soul sleeping soundly with her mouth covered with hot cocoa.

You took a deep breath and Jake stared back into your eyes. The silence said it all.

You wanted nothing more in life than this: the taste of hot chocolate, your child being so peaceful and happy, Jake’s content face lighting up the evening sky and this never ending smell of fresh laundry. Your family was like a basket of clean laundry. So warm, so satisfying, so comforting.

Jake built Rose a bear.

And Jake, Rose and you built a home.

[miss-eucatastrophe]

Pairing: Levi x Erwin x Mike x Thick!Reader/PlusSize!Reader

Summary: When you purchased your first home you’d anticipated it being a turning point in your life. You just didn’t anticipate that turn to give you whiplash. 

A new home throws you into a new lifestyle you would have never thought you’d find yourself in-- with three men you’d never expected to be with. 

Rated: Explicit [18+]

Main Tags: Polyamory/Polyamorous relationship, BDSM, Attack on Titain Modern AU, Slow Burn

A/N: Hey all, Just some things about the reader in this fic before you get invested:

I keep the reader ambiguous in appearance and use [y/n]. Use of [y/n] becomes minimal in favor of pet names as the story progresses. 

One thing that is not ambiguous is that the reader is thick, you could also say plus sized though because that’s different in every country I favor the word thick. I also think its kind of a sexier adjective. 

Reader has self consciousness issues and anxiety, both are being treated/have been treated through therapy. I keep it ambiguous as to whether or not the reader is still in therapy-- regardless the reader is insinuated to be far along and doing well in her treatment. Shout out to my peeps who are/have been in therapy, your mental health is important and you’re doing great no matter where you are in it. 

Reader is in her mid to late 20′s because realistically purchasing a home before that is near impossible. Hell even in our 20′s its hard. I also wanted to give a little love to my thick girls in their later 20′s because we out here. 

A lot of AOT reader inserts, if not completely ambiguous, often emphasize a super fit form. Which makes sense in the typical setting when the reader is in the AOT world and maybe a soldier-- but I wanted to give some love to our fuller body types. Maybe I just got tired of reading “...reader’s flat/muscular stomach...” and going-- ooh can’t relate! Haaa. 

That being said, you can read this no matter what your body type because everyone’s perception of self is different-- I just wanted to give the heads up because the reader does struggle a bit with her sense of self in the story because of her body type as her self confidence continues to develop. 

BDSM dynamics ultimately take place in this fic. Some are good BDSM practices/etiquette, some are not good. Professionals know the difference and this is not your guide to polyamory or BDSM. The poor etiquette will be rather obvious but if you’re interested in pursuing BDSM in your real life, please don’t use this work of fiction as gospel. Do your research and practice safely! 

My fictional stories are for ADULTS. Do not read them if you are under the age of 18. 

With all that out of the way, Please enjoy~ 

Chapter 1:

“I got this,” A panted breath.

“I got this,” A strained grunt.

“Nope I lied.” A loud thunk of a heavy box hitting green grass.

“Told ‘ya so.” The brunette breathlessly quipped from her position beside another box, her arms haphazardly flung over its surface. “Can we please take a break now?”

Admitting defeat, you fell in a heap on the lawn and nodded your head, but not before running your forearm across your sweaty brow. “Okay, yeah,” your reply was just as breathless although your friend had given up long before you. “Like five minutes.”

The other female placed her chin on the box, framing her head between her outstretched arms. “Okay, yeah, like fifteen minutes.” She echoed in a tired din, attempting to get you to thoughtlessly agree to her editing of the time.

Though tired with your legs and arms throbbing under the surface of your skin, you shook your head. “No Sasha,” you said firmly. Though it sounded like you were trying to convince yourself over her. “If we take longer than five minutes, we’re gonna quit and we’re almost done!” You gestured with an open palm to the admittedly small moving van parked in the street in front of you. You’d made good headway with it. It was amazing how much stuff you could fit in such a small van.

It was amazing how little space said stuff could take up in such a big home.

Well, big might be a little generous. It was by no means a mansion, certainly not as big as some of the other models on the same street, but it was bigger than your previous living conditions.

More importantly it was yours.

Yours.

You smiled, looking up at the bright sky above you, dotted with a few fluffy clouds.

Your first home.

Your heart sped up when you reminded yourself. You had doubts that it would ever happen. Saving enough money to put a down payment on a home without loans or handouts was no easy feat. But you did it, and that hard work had paid off in achieving your goal. Your down payment was enough to make the house payments bearable; though for the first few months you could see that a majority of your income would go back into the home either in the form of said payments, filling the home with furniture, or renovating some of the areas that needed love.

Like the front yard.

The front yard needed some love.

Not the lawn. The lawn was good. The lawn was providing you and Sasha with a much-needed reprieve. Yes, the lawn could stay.

You loved lawn.

Lawn loved you.

Until your arms started to itch. A less than intimidating growl left your lips as you quickly sat up, your nails digging into your skin as you scratched at it for some relief before flailing your arms about to try and save them from the irritation—as if you could shake it off your flesh.  

“Back to work.” You chirped, making Sasha groan.

“Remind me what I’m getting out of this again?” She mumbled, her face planting itself back to the box to muffle her protests.

Kicking yourself up to standing, you looked over your shoulder with a playful smile, “I’m feeding you.” You reminded her.

After a long pause, perhaps letting your words sink in, Sasha released a huff, lifting her face and flexing her small arms in her baggy t-shirt. “Second wind!” she shrieked by way of a battle cry, her hands clenching the cube between her legs in a vice grip as she moved to a squat, yanking the box off of the pristine lawn.

Who would take such good care of a lawn but ignore the rest of the yard? The previous owner apparently. Then again, it made a bit of sense. It was easy to turn on a sprinkler system to keep a lawn looking fresh whereas the things you wanted to add would take work. Like flowers. You loved flowers. Though you’d struggle on and off with a potentially green thumb, unlike your mother who could make anything grow. Planting flowers was a must. You would work your way to the backyard. But the front yard was like a first impression and you wanted it to be pretty for when friends came over as well as for the strangers that passed by. You wanted people to say, “Oh what a cute house. Whoever bought it really spruced up the place. It looks much better. Oh, it so does, blah blah blah.” Should you care what other people said? No. But you were human. Besides, your mother always kept an immaculate home, you wanted to emulate her in the maintenance of your own home.

As always you were getting too ahead of yourself. You were thinking twelve steps beyond where you were. That could be dangerous. Such thoughts could stimulate anxiety. Something you were unfortunately prone to. You took a deep breath, stealing your resolve to focus on the present moment.

You lifted your gaze, letting it drag over the neighborhood. “Find every color.” You murmured to yourself.

Red, the roses on the bush two houses down.

Orange, the moving van.

Yellow, your shirt.

Green, the lawn.

Blue, the sky.

Purple, your struggled to find purple and made a note to plant some purple pansies to rectify that.

Pink, the flowers of the magnolia tree next door.

You took a deep breath. This was your favorite grounding exercise you’d learned from therapy. It forced you to stay in the moment, steel yourself, and stop racing thoughts—often times before they happened since now you were much better at recognizing the warning signs. It took a lot of work to get to this point. It was work you were proud of.

You took another breath.

First the van. Empty the van. One thing at a time.

A huffing and puffing Sasha stumbled down the shallow steps of the front door—your front door you though joyously—with her hands on her hips, bent slightly at the waist to pin you with judgement. “Excuse me? Am I do’n all the work around here?”

You smirked, nudging the box in front of you with the toe of your shoe, the memory of your struggle to lift it still fresh in your mind. You weren’t in a hurry for a repeat performance in spite of your hassling of Sasha. “Depends, how big of a meal you want?” You teased her.

The brunette scoffed. “If you want me to go at it alone then you better be treating me to a buffet.”

You giggled, though a twinge of envy settled in your chest. Sasha was a petite thing considering how much she ate. You were not. The fact that she could eat so much and still keep her shape while you struggled around your weight made you jealous. The thought of going to a buffet filled you with dread. You always wondered what people thought when they saw someone of thicker size stepping into one of those. It triggered the self-consciousness you were working on diminishing. It wasn’t as though you were lazy, ugly, or any other stereotypical term that so wrongly coincided with your set. Hell, you’d moved over half your old residence by yourself. You were strong! Your body could do amazing things. You just didn’t match the image plastered all over social media and society of what a woman “should” look like.

Size 0 mannequins could go fuck themselves.

You had hips, you had a butt, you had ample breasts—all things sexualized excessively in the female form—you just also had a little extra. Thick thighs, a bit of a tummy—society wanted you to have tits and an ass but when you had the addition that often went with those things naturally, you were frowned upon. It was a complete catch 22. However, society wasn’t going to change, not overnight. So instead you worked on yourself—or rather your perception of self. Therapy helped, but it was an everyday battle to combat two parts of your brain. The half that liked and appreciated the many elements of you, including your body—and the half that was an asshole.

Right now, the asshole was winning. Because of this you had no interest in taking Sasha to a buffet—which meant you had to actually pick up the box you were glaring at.

Bending over, you hoisted the box into your arms with refreshed energy and groaned as you started to your home. “Remind me again why we didn’t recruit the guys?” You mumbled; your voice strained with effort. You probably had books in there. Yeah that was absolutely the book box. Should have spaced those damn things out. What kinda dumb ass were you to put almost all of them in one box?

“Oh, it’s not that much and they’re working, we can totally handle it.” Sasha said, her voice mimicking yours as best it could, though laced heavy with sarcasm. “That’s you. That’s how you sounded.”

You were kicking yourself, “Talk some sense into me next time.” You called, over your shoulder, dropping the box just inside the door where it was going to stay until you either, one, had the energy to move it, or two, had finished putting up your half book shelf.

It was probably going to live there for a while.

“Already thinking about ‘next time’? Oh, no, you’re not moving for at least 10 years. You can’t get me to do this again before that.” Sasha said sternly when you walked back outside to meet her by the van. “I’ll book you for 10 years from now.” You agreed, leaning against the side of the vehicle while Sasha took a moment to fix her ponytail which had gone messy with her unloading efforts.

Walking around to the back of the moving van, you leaned down to pick up another box, a smaller one than the last and took a moment to look over what was left. Just a few bigger items. They were bulky but between the two of you they wouldn’t be difficult to manage. Getting the bed frame and headboard up the stairs was going to be a pain in the ass, luckily TV’s were thinner now so that would be easy to get inside, the bedside tables were small and each of you could carry one of those, the dresser was going to be a bit of a bitch…

You bit your lip, looking over the items and making a list of difficulty in your head. Once again you were filling your mind with ‘to-do’s. Luckily, a voice pulled you out of your own thoughts as you backed down the van’s slope.

“Hello girls!”

You turned around to see an older woman toddling down the driveway beside your own, holding a tray with cookies and two glasses of what appeared to be lemonade.

Putting on your best ‘first impression’ face, you gave the woman a bright smile and placed the box down at your feet to greet the woman who was undoubtably one of your new neighbors. “Hello ma’am,” you said politely. Sasha was too busy drooling over the cookies in the woman’s hands.

“Please, please, call me Della.” She said, lifting the tray in her hands to present the offering to you and Sasha, who was quick to snatch the lemonade and two cookies, chewing both of them at the same time with happy hums and grumbles. You nudged her with your elbow silently scolding her for bypassing the introduction process. Della waved you off, having noticed the subtle action. “She’s absolutely fine! I’m thrilled to have someone enjoy my baking so much.”

All the same, you introduced yourself before taking your own cookie. “It’s nice to meet you Della. I’m [y/n] and this is Sasha.” You took the tray from her and placed it on one of the taller boxes so you could shake the woman’s hand. “Thank you so much for the lemonade and treats.” How on earth had the woman baked that fast? You’d only been there about two hours and these cookies were absolutely fresh out of the oven. Clearly you were living next door to a witch. A kitchen witch. You were totally okay with that so long as she directed her baking powers on you regularly.

“These are amazing.” You mumbled around a mouthful of warm cookie, the flavor sitting on your tongue for a moment, only to have your pallet cleansed by the lemonade.

Della gave a bright smile, “Well thank you dear. It’s nice to have another darling couple to bake for.”

Sasha spit out the lemonade she was sipping, her eyes popping out of her head as she coughed.

You swallowed your bite to try and keep from choking yourself. “Oh! Oh gosh no. No Sasha is just helping me move in. She’s my best friend.” You clarified calmly.

Sasha was thumping her fist to her chest in an attempt to clear her esophagus. “Connie would kill me.” She managed to choke out between wheezes.

“I think he would be down.” You murmured around another sip of lemonade, teasing her.

Della however covered her mouth, looking a little embarrassed by her assumption. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I guess I’m just so used to our other neighbors.” she trailed off, gesturing to the house on the other side of yours. You took that to mean that your other neighbors were a gay couple.

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it!” Honestly, you were pleasantly surprised to have an older woman be so openly accepting and progressive. Having a neighbor like that wouldn’t be half bad. Especially if she made a habit of sharing her cooked concoctions.

It seemed you’d managed to move to a rather well-rounded neighborhood. It made a smile tug at your lips.

“Will you be living alone, dear?” Della asked, smoothing her hands over the apron tied around her waist. The action cause tiny plumes of flour to drift in front of her before her green eyes came up to regard you with her full attention. It must be her way to ask if you had a significant other that would be moving in alongside you. To some it may seem prying, but you didn’t blame her for wanting to know a little more about the person living right next door to her.

Nodding your head, you reached for another cookie. You probably wouldn’t have normally, sometimes you felt odd eating in front of others— it might have something to do with your negative self-image—but in this case it seemed rude to not show how much you enjoyed the treats after your neighbor slaved over them for you. So, you justified the second as you answered her question. “Yep, just me.”

Humming her understanding, Della nodded in response. “Well don’t you worry. This is a very safe neighborhood. I’ve never felt nervous living alone.” She assured you.

It was not something you’d even considered. You’d lived on your own before, in truth you just slept with a baseball bat under your bed or a heavy flashlight by your nightstand. You’d never had to use them of course, but better have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. You were confident in your ability to defend yourself. As confident as an untrained baseball bat wielder could be anyway. It’s not as though you knew martial arts.

“That’s reassuring.” You told Della with a smile who returned your kind expression. “If you ever need anything, do let me know,” she said softly, picking up the tray as you and Sasha placed your glasses on it—though she handed you the plate of cookies which was for your to consume at your leisure.  “Us girls gotta stick together.” She winked, pulling a giggle from you before she gestured with her chin to your other neighbor’s home. “We’re outnumbered by boys after all.” She was just teasing but it clarified your suspicion of your other neighbors being a male couple.

“They’re very kind,” she added, “So I’m sure they’ll tell you the same. It’s a very lovely neighborhood.” She gave a little curtesy since she couldn’t wave. “I’ll let you girls get back to it!” She called as she walked back up to her driveway.

You smiled back, waving as she made her way to her home, “Thank you again! It was nice to meet you!” You raised the plate of cookies to Sasha’s view once the woman had retreated into her house after the brief welcome. “These are gonna be gone.” You whispered, walking past her to get them to the empty kitchen before you and Sasha could turn them to crumbs.

“Don’t you owe me a debt?” Sasha called after you, picking up the box the tray had once sat on top of.

You gave her a look over your shoulder. “I’m not giving you all my welcome cookies. I’m ordering pizza later.” For a moment you contemplated hiding the sweets. But that wouldn’t protect them from you. Just Sasha and her ravenous hunger.  

It took a little under an hour to get the remainder of the van emptied, without any interruptions—no matter how pleasant. Assembling the bed was a bit of a pain, as suspected, but it was the only piece of furniture you were going to rope Sasha into helping you with. You’d bought a few new pieces of furniture that were still in boxes, which made them easier to pack, but you still had to assemble them. You were confident in your ability to do so on your own. You’d put together enough furniture in your time; and Sasha had done more than enough to earn her pizza.

Thus, the remainder of the evening consisted of eating said pizza, demolishing the plate of cookies, and yelling at reality stars through the television about their actions even though they couldn’t hear you nor Sasha. Thank god you had gotten the cable hooked up day one. You at least needed internet to watch Hulu and Netflix.

Your spunky brunette friend didn’t stay too late. Bless her, she took it upon herself to take the van back to the rental facility for you so you could continue to get settled. The most important piece of furniture was already complete, ready for you to pass out on it when you gave up on the boxes.

To your credit, you managed to unpack most things that didn’t involve the furniture still needing to be assembled. In fact, you unpacked and sorted all your kitchen ware very easily. The kitchen was a good place to start because it didn’t require the rearrangement of furniture which would inevitably come with unpacking areas like your bedroom. Empty cabinets, drawers, and countertops were a blank slate that only required methodical stuffing. Most people’s kitchens were relatively similar in where cutlery went, mixing bowls, cups, pots, and pans—there was only so much variability. It wouldn’t require the careful placement needed to make a space cozy and inviting. It just had to be functional and neat.

Another aspect that made the kitchen simple was your lack of items. Again, this home was much larger than your previous residence. It had much more space for things. Things you didn’t have but would come with time. You were rather excited to shop around for new things to fill your kitchen as well as the rest of your house.

You’d also managed to unpack some knick-knacks and items that would be set on already constructed furniture, like photographs of your family and friends. One of your favorite pictures included you, Sasha, and Connie in Disneyland. Because you were never too old to enjoy Disneyland. It had been your first trip with friends instead of family when you’d reached adulthood. You smiled fondly back at the joyous photo, all of you wearing Micky Mouse ears and grinning at the camera.

Connie and Sasha were two of your closest friends and though they were together romantically they never made you feel like a third wheel. You enjoyed their company dearly. The picture would get a place of honor in the living room before you went to bed that night, concluding your first day of unpacking.

-

The next two days went by in a blur of screws, hammers, nails, bubble wrap, newspaper, and boxes as you unpacked neatly tucked items and assembled furniture that was somehow always missing a screw or two that probably wasn’t important to the overall design anyway. Hopefully, the instructions were more like guidelines. So long as the furniture was sturdy and looked the way it did in the picture, it was fine. A lot of it was place holder furniture anyway. Rather cheap IKEA stuff that would serve to fill space and allow storage as you’d slowly accumulate nicer goods overtime.

It was a process, you reminded yourself, and the home wouldn’t be perfect or look like a catalog home right off the bat. It was what your mother had told you as well when you told her you were buying your first home. Her encouragement and soothing words also helped to keep you grounded much like the techniques you were still learning and utilizing from your time in therapy.

You’d hardly been out of the house since Friday when you first moved in and in spite of your fatigue caused by tedious unpacking, you were itching to start work on the front yard.

Not the backyard.  

That was an adventure you weren’t ready for. You didn’t have an idea mapped out for that yet and weren’t going to spin out trying to construct a plan for it. The backyard would be last. Mainly because that was going to be a big project. It wasn’t poorly maintained, but it was empty. It had a nice lawn, much like the front yard, but that was it.

A blank slate almost overwhelmed you more. It allowed too many options. When you were ready, you’d likely ask the opinion of your parents or friends. Picking their brain for ideas would be helpful and take some of the burden of decisions from your shoulders.

But that was another day, likely many weeks from where you stood now.

Where you stood now was The Home Depot, in the gardening section, looking over the flowers, shrubs, pots, and yard décor they had to offer.

As you promised yourself earlier, you picked up some purple pansies, leaving every other flower and shrubbery up to the whimsy of your mood. Once you had enough plant life to fill the sparce areas of your new home you picked out a few more gardening essentials that you were severely lacking in. Such as gardening gloves, a trowel, and a small bag of soil to fill the few cute pots you would put on the front porch containing succulents. Because succulents were hard to kill—and admittedly you were still a bit green regarding the whole gardening thing.

Pun very much intended.

You snorted at your own stupid joke.

People looked at you in the checkout line.

You looked away, chagrinned.

Quickly, you paid for your greenery items and scurried out to your car. You would start planting right when you got home. It was still early in the morning, hardly 9:00 am. Way earlier than you liked to get up if you were being honest. But, if you started now you could get most of it done before it got too hot.

-

This was Mike’s favorite way to start the morning. With his heart pounding in his ears to the tune of his running mix, his nose filled with the fresh scent of the creek’s running water, and his bare shoulders gently warmed by the sunlight dancing through the canopy of trees overhead.

Almost every day before work, Mike would jog down to the creek trail not far from the house, enjoy the scenery, make a loop or two around the two mile-long path, and then jog home. It was a routine that never changed. He’d been doing it for years now and the consistency was part of what grounded him. He would credit his morning run with assisting in coping with his PTSD. Going without triggered his anxiety and instantly set a poor tone for his day. As such, his boyfriends were good about allowing him to untangle from the sheets every morning, despite one not being a morning person—because he hardly slept in the first place— and the other being a bit of a cuddlier, though he would insist Mike was the cuddlier. Not himself.  

A smile tugged at Mike’s lips at the memory. He wiped his sweating brow with his shirt which was draped around his neck rather than on his body. He’d discarded it early in his run in favor of feeling the light breeze tickle over his bare torso.

His breathing changed as dirt road turned back into concrete when he turned from the creek trail back onto the sidewalk of the main streets of his neighborhood, making his way towards home.

As home came into view, his jog slowed to a walk, allowing his muscles to feel the rush of blood flow under his skin, the tingling throb of adrenaline cycling through his system becoming more noticeable with the shift of pace. Mike’s arms stretched over his head before bending at the joints. His hands folded behind his skull just under the knot of his blonde hair—the half up hairstyle keeping his shaggy bangs out of his face.

Getting closer to his home, he noticed a difference in the normally consistent pattern of houses along the street. A person was in the yard of the house beside his. Their old neighbor had never spent time tending to the yard. He hummed a curious sound. He hadn’t yet had the opportunity to introduce himself to their new neighbor. The “for sale” sign had been taken down days ago, and he vaguely remembered the presence of a moving van without occupants when he’d left for work that Friday.

Mike pulled his phone from his pocket, pausing his music before taking out one of his earphones as he got closer to the house. Though his own music was silenced, a new tune hit his ears, getting louder the closer he got to the kneeling form. The music wasn’t so loud that he would have to yell over it—he could probably clear his throat and the stranger would hear him.

With every intention to politely do just that, he opened his lips and—

Stopped dead in his tracks the moment he got behind the stranger because of what he was greeted by.

There you were, in front of him, on your hands and knees, back arched and your body at an incline as you dug the hole in front of you. But that’s not what got his attention. It was that your legging covered ass was perfectly on display, high in the air, round and inviting.

Mike stood there; mouth partially agape without realizing it. It was a few moments of ogling before he could take in more than that. He picked up your gentle voice, humming to the tune of what was playing on your portable speaker, he picked up the scent of flowers and damp earth, and he picked up on your doe like eyes wide with surprise. It was only then he noticed you had turned around away from your project, hand on your heart as you let out a yelp of surprise at finding someone standing behind you.

A giant standing behind you.

“H-hello…” you murmured, collecting yourself as you moved to turn down your music to a gentle background noise.  

Mike was able to take that time to gather himself. He quickly closed his mouth, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. The man made a conscious effort not to stare, though now that he could see your face it was becoming even more difficult. A cute face to go with a nice ass. A blush dusted his cheeks. Hopefully covered by the sun kissed pigment of his skin.

God willing.

“Uh sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He lifted his hand not currently on the back of his neck, pointing to the house to his left, the one with the magnolia tree. “M’name’s Mike Zacharias, I live next door.” He put on a smile though it was no less sheepish than his previous expression. “I hadn’t had the chance to introduce myself yet.” He was thankful to have a cover up to his staring.

You paused for a long moment, the gears in your head almost audible—then recognition flashed over your face. Part of you was trying to recall the conversation you’d had with Della on move in day, the other part was mesmerized by the husky voice.

The sudden brightness that filled in your eyes when you smiled had Mike’s heart in his throat.

“Oh! Yes,” Pulling yourself up to standing, you rubbed your palms together to brush off the dirt and then pulled off one of your gardening gloves, extending a clean hand to him. “I’m [y/n] [l/n]. It’s nice to meet you.” You were extremely eager to make a good impression on your neighbors. You thought you had done a pretty good job with Della—though her cookie offering had done most of the work for you. It was imperative you get along with Mike and his partner. After all, you’d gotten very lucky with most of your neighbors throughout your life. Most of that was due to your parents. Your mother was friendly, polite, and warm. Your father was boisterous, funny, and generous. You strived to offer the same mix to your neighbors and have a good relationship.

You had seen enough episodes of “Fear Thy Neighbor” to understand that a poor relationship on either side of you could wreck an otherwise comfortable home life.

Of course, “Fear Thy Neighbor” was the most dramatic of examples often leading to violence and murder.

You should probably stop watching the ID channel.

Stick to the stupid reality shows.

Mike swallowed thickly, the dusted pink in his cheeks brightening. His large palm engulfed yours and it was as if his blush traveled from his face, down his arm, through your hands and up to your own cheeks. His hand was huge, it practically swallowed yours. Your palm was completely swaddled by the deceptively gentle squeeze of a rough hand, slight calluses made firm by some sort of labor you couldn’t name.

With your surprise having warn off from the initial contact you found yourself fully registering the man in front of you—

And holy shit if your brain didn’t almost immediately short circuit again.

First of all, he was a giant. Already established—but something you didn’t truly comprehend until you’d stood and fully approached him from your botany project. If you dug the hole you were working on a little deeper, you were pretty sure you could plant Mike up to his knees and he’d continue growing into the tree he so clearly was.

Second of all there was his face which was generously exposed by his tied back dark blond hair. Hazelly-green eyes, pronounced nose—that fit him perfectly, and a strong jaw lightly bearded along it as well as his upper lip.

Your eyes followed the curve of his jaw down his neck, past his broad shoulders and onto a sparsely haired chest just where his defined pectorals met. If you followed the path from his chest down to his toned stomach, which you absolutely did, you found the same light etching of hair extending from his navel down to his—

Your eyes quickly darted back up to his face, your own heating up substantially as your hands all too soon disconnected.  

Mike placed his hands on his hips which served to flex his strong arms and momentarily distract you again.

If you could have slapped yourself subtly, you would have done so. But with those hazel eyes boring into you, you settled for mentally berating your thirst. ‘Get it together woman. He’s taken… and gay.’ But gay came second to taken. It was important to respect a preexisting relationship. It was important to respect sexuality too.

But—

You could look, right? No harm in looking. That’s why people went to museums. To drool over the Statue of David.

That throaty voice pulled you back to focus. “So, is it just you?” If you weren’t completely sure that the man in front of you was gay, the question would have sounded hopeful.

He must have just been asking so he could introduce himself to any other potential newcomers.

“Yep just me. It’s my first house.” He didn’t ask for that second part, but you were proud. You were proud of having your own home and doing so alone. You didn’t have to depend on anyone to get to this important step in your life. That wasn’t something many people could say. You weren’t trying to brag—it was just that residual excitement of having achieved one of your life goals.

Mike to his credit seemed excited for you. His eyebrows raised, as if impressed. Buying a home was getting harder and harder for every generation. Though he didn’t seem too much older than you. Probably in his early 30’s. Even if he were ten years older than you that would be a generational gap and that meant the struggles to find a home were different between the two of you. However, you didn’t think he could be that much older than you considering you were in the later part of your 20’s. 30’s seeming to creep ever closer. But seeing Mike reminded you that your 30’s didn’t make you old in the slightest. The more you looked at Mike, the better your 30’s looked. Because fuck if Mike wasn’t fine as hell.

You were thinking too far ahead again, this time years.

To pull yourself from your spinning thoughts, you looked back at Mike’s face. The smile momentarily dazed you. Because of course he would also have perfect teeth. “Congratulations, that’s wonderful.” He murmured, looking to your house for a moment and then back at you. The house was rather large for one person. “No significant other chomping at the bit to invade your space yet?” The tone was teasing, and you managed a laugh which dispelled your previously spiraling thoughts. God, sometimes you didn’t even notice when they were spiraling.

Mike seemed interested in your relationship status. It put little butterflies in your stomach which were squashed when you looked down at yourself. Even if Mike were interested in females, why would he be interested in you?

You growled internally at those disparaging thoughts to shut the fuck up. You counted to three in your head, a brief distraction from those thoughts used to ground you in the present.

Normally, you preferred your longer methods of distraction, like your colors. However, those weren’t feasible when in the middle of a conversation with your hot neighbor.

“Nope, no boyfriend or anything. Just me and maybe a dog or a cat at some point.” You grinned at the idea, reminding yourself that now that you had your own home no one could tell you if you could have a pet or not. No landlord, no parent, no roommate—no permission needed.

The twinkle in Mike’s eye was easily missed. “My votes’ for a cat,” he murmured offhandedly.

“Not a dog fan?” You asked playfully. Though maybe he was worried about you having a yappy dog that he would have to listen to all day. Understandable.

“No, I like dogs too,” Did his voice get a little deeper? “Just always been fond of kittens.” His eyes slid over you, a smile tugging at his lips that made your blush from earlier give an encore performance.

‘Taken. And. Gay.’ You reminded yourself, willing the blush to dissipate and scolding yourself for reading too much into his gaze. Schooling your expression with the same friendly smile you’d given Della; you nodded your head. “Well I’ll just have to drag you along when I adopt one, then you can play with some pussy.”

Oh lord.

That was a Freudian slip if there ever was one.

You felt your face go hot and resisted the overwhelming compulsion to connect your palm to your forehead. Inappropriate joke for a first meeting—for sure.

Mike’s eyes flashed with something you couldn’t name, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’ll take you up on that,” he grinned, and the expression was playful, putting you a bit more at ease. “It’s been far too long since I’ve played with a cute pussy.”

Your thighs squeezed together. Unnoticeably, you prayed.

Mike must have been messing with your somewhat unintentional word choice. Though you were happy that Mike seemed to be the lighthearted type. You could see yourself forming a friendship with the man. Hopefully, his boyfriend (husband?) was half as laid back.

You also hopped his partner was half as sexy.

Because if he was just as sexy as Mike, you were going to suffer a heat stroke.

The giant grinned, tilting his head to gesture to his home. “I gotta get ready for work.” Was it your imagination or did he look a bit reluctant? His grin was back in place too soon to really tell. You nodded your head politely with a little wave just before he turned away.

“It was nice to meet you.” You called, getting back on your knees next to the little pit you’d dug for your shrub.

The blond looked over his strong shoulder as he made his way down the sidewalk and threw you a very obvious wink. “Catch ya later, kitten.” He replied before he rounded his driveway and walked up to his front door, giving you one more glance and disappearing inside the much larger home.

Blinking, you sat frozen for a few moments before your eyes drifted to the hole beside you. Maybe if you dug it a bit deeper you could bury yourself in it.

Because Mike was surely going to be the death of you.

-

When Mike got back into the house, he had to lean against the door, tilting his head back to let the cooling air of the AC drench his heated skin. Though at this point the heat was less from his run and more from the cute new neighbor. It took everything in his power not to pin you to the dirt right there. He let out a little groan, hardly audible.

But just audible enough.

A voice, smooth as honey called from around the corner. “Mike? You alright?”

Mike hummed an affirmative and pushed himself off the door to make his way to the kitchen where the voice was coming from. If he didn’t answer right away, he knew the male would come searching for him and instantly begin to drill him on his mental state. There was no need for that.

His mental state was good. Very good this morning.

His large palm came up to slide over the marble of the kitchen island as he bypassed it to get to the fridge, sticking his head in for longer than necessary to retrieve a water bottle. A soft crack filled the room as he twisted the cap, breaking the seal as he turned to face the kitchen table. Two sets of eyes peered over at him. One set a bright blue; the color of the ocean, the other a stormy grey sky.

The honey voice spoke again, the blue eyes having been peering behind a newspaper completely revealed by its placement on the table. “Good run I take it?”

“Looks a little too happy about a run, Erwin.” The stormy eyed male murmured from behind a teacup held at the rim.

Mike smirked a little. Levi always was perceptive. They both were. But Levi noticed subtleties far more quickly than Erwin did. “I met our new neighbor.” He brought the opening of the bottle to his lips, letting the chilled liquid sooth his throat of the dryness from his run.

“Oh?” Erwin asked, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head back as a silent hint for Mike to lean down to him. Levi was good at noticing subtleties, but Mike was good at reading hints. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Erwin’s, his own cool and water glazed compared to Erwin’s soft and warm ones. “Mm hm,” He confirmed while righting himself. “And Levi,” Mike moved to the other side of the table, tilting Levi’s head back with a fingertip to direct his gaze to him which had been glued upon the novel in his left hand. The ravenette looked up from his book with the giant’s prompting, gaze aloof and seemingly disinterested. However, the look in Mike’s eyes gave him pause.

Since Mike knew Levi, really knew him, he noticed the curiosity lingering behind that seemingly blank expression.

Mike pecked his lips to the shorter male’s, whispering against them. “She’d be perfect.”

[algernoninwonderland]

“Porter sur toi un nouveau regard”: basic outlines and preparatory notes

What better way to celebrate a fic being completed than me releasing some of the basic notes I took while planning it? Here they are, with a few additions.

 It all started as a prompt I got on Discord, the very simple “love at first sight” and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it at first, but the idea of sight stuck with me. Are your first impressions the right ones? Can you learn to see someone a certain way or another? It’s ultimately a story about learning to see other people and yourself, isn’t it?

Which meant I had to take a certain point of view, because an omniscient floating eye is emotionally detached. Character POV may have a limited scope, but that may help empathise with them. This is a story about Kagami, so it was only fair for Kagami to be the centre of it.

Chapter 1: 

“How does Kagami truly feel about Marinette before Ikari Gozen”? 

While Marinette sees the two of them as rivals, that rivalry is one-sided, and Kagami wouldn’t take that girl seriously. She’s simply annoying. 

Kagami is a lonely character, who genuinely wants to make friends, still, and she’s anything but cool or smooth. She doesn’t know the other characters the way the audience does, at all.

Tomoe Tsurugi sucks.

Switching from “Dupain-Cheng” to “Marinette Dupain-Cheng” to “Marinette” would be a nice way to keep the reader hooked. Lots of tiny details that’ll come back later on!

Comphet. 

Lots of comphet already. What you “should” like, a calculated, conscious choice.

A few jabs at the show because why not.

Chapter 2:

Filling gaps in characterisation and timeline to make sure that everything hurts later on! Including pre-Adrigami. People thought the paperwork between Tomoe and Gabriel was a marriage contract, not quite, but an arranged relationship? Definitely from Tomoe’s side.

Are Kagami and Marinette already going on dates when they visit the city together all on their own? Isn’t that the true sapphic experience.

Also, the promise of them going to the terrace rooftop on sunny days! It’ll come back later on.

The Bike Motive. Marinette driving her forward.

“Your hair is beautiful” but make it much gayer. 

I hate the André scene in the finale, it sucks and it’s awful for everyone. It should be awful for both Marinette and Kagami. Comphet. So much comphet. 

Kagami’s impression of brokenness is something we’ll come back to over and over again.

Adrien doesn’t notice because he’s Adrien. The kiss. Nothing.

“K-Kagami!” End with a cliffhanger for more suffering.

As a side note, I made myself cry writing this chapter.

Chapter 3:

Everything hurts. Everything. Hurts. 

Identity reveals don’t solve anything, they still fail, and Marinette still isn’t willing to show herself to Kagami, still hiding behind a facade.

Just because Marinette understands things a little better doesn’t mean it hurts any less

They are both lying to each other and themselves and they don’t even realise it.

“Fixing the brokenness” through comphet.

Nothing is solved at all.

Falling asleep on a chaise longue plus blanket

Chapter 4:

Life as a socialite in Paris, concerts and restaurants, wearing clothes she hasn’t chosen

The Adrien routine, pulling chairs and flowers

It’s all miserable still, lots of “shoulds”

Fencing competition, fencing competition ahead. Tomoe is a terrible parent and a terrible coach.

Text conversations with Marinette, overdoes joy with emojis

The Bike Motive Returns, with more feelings, Marinette’s almost desperate gestures

(Kagami as the only person she can fully confide in, but still won’t)

An early birthday present… But Kagami is born in November, Marinette is a mess and so is her room.

Hug and first hint of reciprocated Marigami? Just the happiness of having someone like Kagami who admires her work as Marinette.

Falling asleep on a chaise longue plus blanket, part deux.

KAGAMI IN A SUIT!!!

Kisses on the cheek are really common in France, not Japan. A heavy kiss.

Dress or suit?

Marinette is a mess, texts at night. Difference between Adrien and Marinette’s texts, Adrien’s more self-centred.

No sense of space in Tokyo, jet lag and closed house. Closed spaces. 

Chapter 5:

I’m going to write a full chapter about sabre fencing and people will love it

Lots of sneaky (or not so sneaky) GL and Yuri manga/anime references. Make Juri Arisugawa part of the Jury.

All the locations are real

Marinette overdoes it again, Kagami can’t tell.

Kagami’s technique dissecting her opponents. She is a champion already.

Teach the readers about fencing whilst describing it. Have opponents be challenging in specific, understandable ways.

She chooses the suit. What even is subtlety.

As a side note: it was a really fun one to write.

Chapter 6:

Marinette internship phone call, Nathalie’s plan. No way Gabriel would accept to work with a kid. Flirting, Kagami as a muse?

The Foucault chapter. Everything is a prison. Restaurant, vertical stripes on wall as prison bars, the relationship, the self-locking car. This is no Utena car.

Everything is wrong, including the food

Adrigami friendship, much better than Adrigami romance. Rose/Chair. She doesn’t hate him at all, she just doesn’t love him… It wouldn’t work, she’s gay and he’s a liar.

Self-imposed gestures of affection.

Do not describe the kisses, they’re just a thing she has to do

Marinette is a mess, Ladybug is a mess, hell imagery, falling down a hole, almost dying. We are in the car with Kagami and we want to do something, anything, and we can’t.

Chapter 7:

The first step to things being alright again is to admit that they aren’t alright now

Nighttime conversation, Kagami letting Ladybug in

Marinette finally showing herself bare to Kagami but still tries not to until the dam breaks. Being a hero is miserable. Being the Guardian when you are a child with no guidance or support is miserable. Kagami as the only person she can trust.

Botched Lukanette date?

“I’m just so tired.”

“You are not a failure, you are so courageous, a genius fashion designer and my best friend”

(Additional note: I cried writing that passage)

Sharing the burden: help in more than just words.

“I hate that you have to see me like that.”

But showing your vulnerability and still being accepted as true love

Kagami truly sees Marinette now.

“Tutorship” and Tomoe being awful but excuse works. Help is material, homework, tidying up the room together.

“Stop feeling guilty about letting other people help you.”

Flirting hidden behind jokes, Kagami lying to herself. Way to ruin the mood.

Marigami baking.

Harlem 88, postal workers, acab

Watching television on the same couch, or rather watching Marinette watch television.

Umbrella scene with polka dots.

Kagami fully aware of her feeling and afraid of them, afraid that Marinette might feel the same

Chapter 8:

more fencing, Kagami absolutely rules

Worrying about Marinette alone with Gabriel, rightfully so, but can’t say that out loud

Stereotypical outdated Japanese-ness, Kagami can’t conform, doesn’t know how to put on her houmongi on her own. Tomoe and paradoxes, her daughter is both weak and “too muscular” at the same time.

The Palais Royal. The Buren columns are very climbable.

Gabriel, “quite miraculous”. Testing the waters, Kagami doesn’t notice. 

Jealousy when Adrien speaks of Marinette?

Ratatouille reference! Tatou. 

Tomoe playing the role of the exotic Japanese to be accepted. 

Drunk parents, drunk on power and self-satisfaction. 

Adrien’s kiss, forced to return it. 

Fear that Adrien might become Marinette’s muse

The bike motive once more

Barkk’s power is tracking magical signatures, each is different from the other

Marinette taking control over her own life, making plans to stop Hawk Moth instead of passively waiting for each attack, 

“She was never broken. She is in love with another girl.”

Marinette is in love with her too, but is ready to wait.

Chapter 9:

Adrien IS Chat Noir, up to the entitlement and his way of being physically affectionate. Stay true to canon and canon implications.

Adrigami/DJWifi double date, Alya means well but doesn’t know everything

Wordbuilding: of course the Ladyblog isn’t the only website ever, bad rival, Daily Bugle pun.

Not hating someone doesn’t mean you should be with them.

Hints of Adrigami friendship again, relief at avoiding romance.

Food at Kagami’s, cooker, formally perfect but not personal

Marinette and Barkk, closer to their goal

The Turtle Pearl bracelet: a shield, a great way to show feeling of danger, symbol of love

Kagami is the one to kiss Marinette on the cheek this time

Chapter 10:

Tomoe is a bad instructor episode 100

In which Adrien proves himself to truly be also Chat Noir, i.e. unable to understand personal barriers and entitlement. Still Kagami’s POV. He doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong, insistence≠playfulness. certainly won’t apologise

The bike motive again. Scenic road and conversation

Going to Orsay, definitely a date!

Chat Noir was moody during akuma crisis because of course he was.

Chapter 11:

Adrigami “break”, Adrien sucks at admitting that he’s anything but perfect and being confronted with that.

Kagami bluntness.

Adrigami isn’t about Adrigami, it’s about the Tsurugi family’s status and Tomoe terrified of consequences. Attacking the room instead of Kagami herself.

The Turtle Pearl glows when wearer feels endangered or imminent danger

The museum pictures, the two of them together

Aquarium date?

“Voice of reason” isn’t the voice of reason at all.

Barkk is in the bag, smells everything

Chapter 12:

Kagami as Tomoe’s messenger

Agreste mansion as a mausoleum, setting up the geography, security cameras, cold. Painting of Émilie, goal is near

Nathalie being extremely good at pretending she didn’t just knock that kid unconscious months ago, she’s awful and it’s great.

Marinette internship, Gabriel wears a bowtie… Resembles a butterfly.

Barkk in the bag, smells everything.

Stressful phone call, feels feverish, it’s him and that’s undeniable.

Marinette the detective.

“Thanks for being there for me”

“Thank you for trusting me so much”

Having dinner with Hawk Moth, it’s awful and stressful

No more chair/rose

Adrien is miserable but not aggressive. Building up to final fight

Chapter 13:

Meet the Dupain-Chengs, short, awkward, sweet moment

Marinette’s room, perfectly clean

From creepy stalker to detective, without downplaying the former or overplaying the latter

The two are complementary, very concrete things, 

The plan: catch Hawk Moth red-handed, take it outside and expose him to the world

How the Kwami Pearls work: just like the Miraculouses themselves, feeding off the host, only more brutal. Marinette trying to reassure Kagami

Re-explain Turtle Pearl and other powers, illusion, thunder, time-rewind and portal

Gabriel owns original Degas painting since they are both assholes

Adrien/Chat still not great at all

Ice-cream but no biphobia/lesbophobia this time, just a regular shop suggested by Juleka.

The Pont des Arts, no more locks, just like in real life.

The confession, the kiss: consent and everything is right, but also desperate. Marinette really wants to do it well.

Longg is back, also, hype

Side note: I cried writing this one.

Chapters 14-15

Ryuko infiltrating the mansion, all in the details

I hate that Hawk Moth’s lair is an actual real physical space in the show, but if this needs to be material, then so be it. He was allowed to turn his house into that because he got help from the Mayor/Audrey.

Chat Noir can’t fight, near breakdown.

Nathalie knew. Remake of first fight, only Ryuko has clear upper hand.

Having missiles in your house isn’t a good idea.

The Turtle Pearl serves its purpose at last, 

Gabriel mostly defeats himself on his own, hubris, the whole extent of his power dynamic with Nathalie

Going back to the Champ de Mars, 

Teamwork, taking the butterfly down. Chat Noir rejects his father entirely, cataclysm-ed akuma.

The mansion again, entirely destroyed, paintings of Émilie burning. Spell book and tablet recovered.

Chapter 16:

Taking the big bad down is useless if you don’t take down the power structures that allowed him to strive in the first place. Killing Voldemort only solves that much.

Discovering it all on a phone screen, shut-in

ACAB no matter your gender

They are just following orders and happy to do so, and Gabriel still has some power over them

Tomoe plays by the rules, even though these rules are awful

Kagami’s anger

Chapter 17:

Aquarium date, aquarium date! Fish facts

Kagami’s anger still, doesn’t die out, render it through environment and senses

Water as a healing motive, fish facts

Hot outside - cold inside, ice-cream

Kagami nearly blows out because of kids after being slightly soothed

The power of love is strong but it can’t solve everything.

Additional note: someone in the comments asked me if Kagami had ASD, and the answer is, I don’t know, you tell me! If you think she is on the spectrum, then she is!

Addressing Kagami being closeted, because there’s simply no other way. This isn’t good. Having to live hidden out of fear isn’t good..

The bike motive, + ice cream

Kagami uses the word “lesbian” for the first time to describe her own experience.

Chapter 18:

Tomoe has feelings and these feelings suck. Under the guise of rules, abuse.

Kagami fighting back.

Power is material, through connections and money, nothing that can’t be bought

Kagami’s first demonstration, don’t make it too violent but still ACAB

Nino and Alya as reporters, Julerose and Luka seasoned protestors

The Palais de Justice’s gilded gates are closed vs the crowd

Marinette using her powers for something other than Hawk Moth, strong stance but also still a 15 yo kid’s understanding of the situation

Chapters 19-20:

No tanabata because Tomoe is terrible

The rooftop terrace at last, more Marigami wholesomeness

Dupain-Cheng house vs Tsurugi house, the furniture and dishes, the meal, more Tom and Sabine

Marinette has been cut from her Chinese heritage, exploring that (callback to Mandarin app, chapter 1) and bitterness of it

Adrien moving on in England, still Plagg with him, he’ll become a rich prep boy

Marinette as a Guardians, her own spell book

Duusuu is devouring Émilie’s soul and neither Marinette nor Kagami knows

Françoise Dupont at night, fencing classes, Marinette moves like Ladybug

The future: it is bright but bittersweet, let’s talk about it together

And there was only one bed

Oh, to cuddle with your girlfriend in her bed for the first time

Watching the sun rise together, calm breakfast

Side note: I also cried writing this one.

Chapter 21, epilogue

A new beginning

Kagami turning her back on her mother almost entirely

The bike motive, but Kagami no longer needs Marinette to show her the way now

New school, familiar faces but not only

An ordinary bracelet for Marinette, but proof of love despite everything

End on their hands.

[xlady-saya]

an unconventional crossing [fic]

Relationships: andrew and aaron, andreil, kateaaron

Summary: Aaron likes to believe he and Andrew have a lot more practice navigating their conversations now. And he’s right, mostly. But sometimes, challenges arise at the strangest times, and especially when their significant others are concerned.

In which Andrew and Aaron run into each other at the grocery store, and choose not to part ways.

Tags: twin bonding, lots of references to how they’re whipped af, discussions of past abuse/addiction 

Read on ao3!

Aaron is only a little bit ashamed that his first instinct is to run far away when he turns the corner and sees his brother standing there.

At first, he thinks he might be dreaming. It's past nine on a school night, and the brightness of the store burns his already tired eyes. The switch from the darkness outside to the stark white tile and fluorescent lights makes Aaron squint. His brother is more like a grainy, black smudge in front of him, and Aaron lingers on the double knots of Andrew's combat boots and the shiny item in his hand. Soup. A can of soup. That's also what Aaron needs.

For Katelyn.

And like that, Aaron remembers why he's here. In fact, he's pretty sure there's dried snot on his sleeve where Katelyn mistook him for a tissue. It's disgusting, but given the bookstore fiasco of last year—which Aaron has repressed and will take to the grave—it's not the grossest thing they've witnessed from one another.

In sickness and in health and all that...he guesses it still applies to boyfriend and girlfriend, too.

It's why he's here now, prepared to stock up their mediocre medical supplies. It does not explain why Andrew is here. He looks around a few times, then looks back, and expects to be alone in the aisle. But Andrew is still there. Holding soup.

The grocery store is practically empty apart from a few people picking up alcohol or extra junk food for studying binges, which only adds to the dream-like quality of it all. This is...not where he's used to seeing Andrew—this is not how he's used to seeing Andrew. Which is nonsensical, because everyone needs groceries.

He kinda just figured Andrew survived off chocolate.

He clamps down on the urge to leave; it's an old, pathetic need, and one he no longer wants to encourage. He freezes in place instead, and reflects. Classic, he thinks, rolling his eyes. Aaron hates how much he listens to Bee now, but with all the leaps and bounds he and Andrew have made, random things can still be hard to navigate.

Grocery store trips, he guesses, are included in that.

The habit of bolting whenever his brother is in the same room as him is not one he likes, but it's a knee jerk reaction he hasn't completely gotten rid of. A ghost, latched onto his back. But that's okay, because he's sure it's the same for Andrew too. The need to keep Aaron at a distance, when they've been doing the exact opposite.

He spends a lot of time with Andrew now, more than he'd probably admit if asked. They study together, silently—that hasn’t changed. But even now there's an occasional greeting or a mutual scoff when someone in the library is being annoying. Andrew will help Aaron review his exam flashcards, or Aaron will form a post with his hands so Andrew can flick paper goals. They play videogames with Neil and Katelyn, they have lunch together… Their sessions no longer feel like a chore.

Standing in this soup aisle, Aaron realizes he couldn't have asked for more, would've never asked for even a fraction of it a few years ago. Now he can't imagine his life without Andrew slotting into it somewhere, whether it be on miniature golf double dates or Nicky's failed family baking nights.

It's startling, but not unwelcome.

Still, it's odd to see his brother looking so...normal. Silly.

Aaron is aware now that Andrew is a regular person with fears and wants, just with unorthodox methods, different roots...but he can't help but always think of the cool, blank stare. He thinks of Andrew leaning against a wall, smoking, not giving anyone the time of day. Including Aaron.

Especially Aaron.

It takes him a second to remember the nerd who sulked after getting beaten in Mario Kart, or the one who apparently threw up after Disneyland from one too many churros.

(Neil told them that story).

He certainly doesn't think of the man who walked all the way back to the dorm because Neil sent him a crying emoji and a 'I cut my finger' text.

But that's the real Andrew, too. There’s always more underneath all the closed off, reserved portions laced with barbed wire. Andrew has finally allowed Aaron to see that.

This Andrew is, once again, a far cry from cool and collected. This Andrew looks tired, not as put together. He's wearing wrinkled jeans that clearly need a wash, Neil's hoodie (stained), and seems .2 seconds away from throwing the store's entire inventory into a dumpster fire.

The spell is only slightly broken, and Aaron catches himself smirking.

His brother glares at the can of soup like it offends him, reading the label before putting it back on the shelf and grabbing a different brand to see if it's anywhere closer to his standards. Whatever the hell those might be.

Unfortunately, dating Neil has made his brother even more perceptive than before. Probably because Neil can smell trouble from miles away, and then he goes and seeks out said trouble to jab at it with a metaphorical stick. The stick is just an endless stream of cuss words and insults.

Needless to say, Aaron isn't able to enjoy this comical sight for long.

Andrew's gaze darts over to where Aaron is standing at the end of the aisle, and Aaron can see the exact same reaction run through him. The tension seizes his brother like a snare, and there's that all too familiar step forward, like Andrew is ready to turn around and disappear.

But then he doesn't. Andrew remembers what Aaron does, and then it's gone.

What they didn't account for was the awkwardness. Again, they aren't trained for grocery store encounters.

Andrew doesn't exactly nod at Aaron, but he inclines his head just so and turns back to the soup, staring into some void Aaron can't see. He's not sure if it's an invitation, but it's as good as he's going to get.

Aaron's sneakers squeak on the tile and he stumbles, but ultimately ends up at the edge of his brother's bubble, staring at the soup right along with him.

Progress.

Aaron sighs and grabs Katelyn's preferred brand. It's the chicken soup with the extra big chunks of chicken and the flatter noodles. Katelyn likes them because they're 'chewier,' and Aaron just thinks it's weird. But what she wants, she gets, because how is he going to deny his sniffling girlfriend as she whines miserably in bed?

Come to think of it, they're probably here for the same reason. With how much Neil and Katelyn see each other outside of games and general Fox gatherings, it would be no surprise if they both came down with the same cold.

Which means they probably need the same things. Soup, cold medicine, tissues.

Aaron freezes as he glances at the soup, feeling his brother's imposing presence beside him. For someone so obsessed with not being noticed or talked to, Andrew doesn't do a good job of hiding. He's like a cliff or a mountain, steady and bulky. A road block.

Aaron should leave. He has what he needs, so he can move on. He doesn't have to wait for Andrew; they don't have to shop together.

But then why does it feel so weird to weakly wave goodbye?

Aaron raises his hand only to stop mid-motion, thwarted by his own thoughts. Andrew tracks the movement. God, this is even more awkward now. They aren't usually like this anymore.

Maybe it's because they've realized the same thing.

Here they are, both making sweetheart runs in the middle of the night. It should be mortifying, but part of it feels strangely natural.

Probably because there's always a comfort in knowing they're the same in this way.

They both have their suffering partners waiting for them, but despite that, Aaron doesn't know how to broach the subject.

Bee's words from some faraway session echo in his head: "It might help the both of you to try talking about your partners with one another under more casual circumstances."

Aaron nearly scoffs, just like he did then.

Yeah, sure. It's the one area they're not great at, and it’s easier said than done.

It's not that he hates Neil anymore, and he has his suspicions that Andrew's opinion of Katelyn is at least a calm respect, though he's not sure when or how it happened. They spend time together as a group, and, in some cases, separately.

Aaron will tutor Neil or help him through difficult game levels, or Katelyn will be the one to help Andrew with the snack runs when they go to the movies. It's...fine.

No, it's great.

Aaron just still has a hard time acknowledging it.

But this? This they don't do. They don't talk about Neil and Katelyn together unless it's for therapeutic purposes during their sessions, and even then it's caked in wariness.

Aaron wonders if they're afraid of ruining the progress they've made by unintentionally starting a fight, but he's never known Andrew to be that caring of those things.

Perhaps it's simply too vulnerable, too exposed, to show how much they care. Even when it's so obvious.

Aaron notices Andrew finally settles on one of the more premium soup brands, and yeah, alright. Painfully obvious.

Aaron has always pushed that piece of Bee's advice away, procrastinating, because surely it can't be that important. But it is.

Ugh. It probably is.

So this time, rather than avoiding it, Aaron figures he might as well show Andrew up by taking the first stride. Talking about Katelyn is easy. She's everything to him; he could wax poetic all day about her. He knows her class schedule, her favorite subjects, her dreams.

With that in mind, Aaron confidently spins the can around at the same time he opens his mouth in Andrew's direction, and smoothly says, "You know, Katelyn likes soup."

And what a stride he takes.

Fuck me.

“Uh. When she’s sick, I mean. And other times but—that’s why I’m here. Sick soup.” The can falls from his hands and he barely catches it in time. He doesn't think he could add that to his mortification without giving up and running out.

It wasn't a lie. She does like soup, even if it's the really disgusting kind, but it's not a fact that evokes any groundbreaking emotions. It certainly doesn't bridge the gap.

Andrew turns to squint at him in that way—the precursor to a full on dismissal. Aaron's not sure why he's even still here, but maybe now his respect for Aaron now extends to telling him off with words. Aaron braces for it.

He watches the exact moment Andrew opens his mouth to tell Aaron he doesn't care, but it never comes. It's rare to see Andrew hesitate; someone so methodical and cautious doesn't tend to question his thoughts when he's sure of them.

But Andrew stops, mouth hanging open for a beat too long before snapping shut.

And Aaron doesn't know what it is, doesn't feel like blaming it on the twin telepathy theory...

He just knows Andrew remembers, same as him. Probably better than him.

Andrew can hear Bee's advice too, far away and obnoxious, ringing in his head.

His brother turns back to the soup can, smoothly over the ridges under the bright blue label. Hm. No, can't be. His brother isn't that sappy.

A few moments pass where Aaron can't move, kept in place by some invisible orbit, waiting for...something. Just that alone makes it all so surreal; he never used to expect anything from Andrew.

Yet, Andrew keeps surprising him with how much more he's willing to do now. For Aaron. For both of them. His brother sighs eventually, staring at the shelf in front of him, and begrudgingly replies, "Neil won't even admit he's sick. He didn't want me to come."

It's stilted, clearly forced out, but Andrew did it. He returned the gesture. And if there's one thing Aaron knows about his brother, it's that it's the closest thing he's going to get to a chance. Excited for some inane reason, Aaron almost doesn't process the words. But oh, he gets it. Neil is so fucking ridiculous, Aaron can't stand him. It makes sense his 'I'm fine' routine would stretch to this, too. Aaron almost wants to see the state of him, fever high and unable to move without his sweat sticking to the blankets.

His face sours, and the instinctive insult creeps to the edges of his mouth. Andrew watches, waits for it, and Aaron nearly bites his tongue to stop himself. Being hostile to Neil is more playful nowadays, but it's still a reflex. If he does that here...part of him just knows whatever is happening will effectively be cut short.

He clears his throat, rocking on the balls of his feet and willing his glare to go away.

"That...sounds like him," Aaron forces out. It's the best he can do, but it probably still sounds judgmental.

God.

Why are they so bad at this?

"He's an idiot," Andrew replies with a nod, so softly it almost doesn't sound like him. Aaron almost scoffs. Here he is trying to be considerate, but Andrew scolds his own boyfriend anyways. Aaron should've known better than to bother.

He slides his gaze over to his brother again, and that train of thought effectively stops. There's a tightness in Andrew's jaw, and an antsy quality to his stance. Aaron replays the words, and realizes Andrew's voice is different from the usual monotone, the uncaring inflection. It would be neutral still, to most people, but Aaron can sense that it's laced with something strong, self-directed. His brother's hands tighten around the can with a vice grip, and Aaron should really be better at detecting Andrew's concern by now.

Suddenly, he gets it. "He didn't want me to come."

It must be grating for someone like Andrew, who despite the vibe he tries to give off, does nothing but look after his own. It's the worst with Neil, because his motivation is borne from an intense emotion Aaron can't even associate with their relationship. It's too much, too theirs. He feels uncomfortable trying to define it when he's never heard Andrew actually say the three words.

Still, it's all consuming. It's real.

Nauseatingly so.

And it must be particularly infuriating, because Andrew's need to protect Neil isn't the result of a deal at all. He wants to. Wow, he probably hates that he wants to.

It only gives Aaron some satisfaction; it is Neil they're talking about.

Andrew's frustrations bleed through the cracks a little more, and he harshly brushes a hand through his bedhead. "His cold is just going to get worse if he keeps it up."

Ah, so they're still sharing. Aaron can do that. It's a welcome distraction; he can only take so much of thinking about his brother's intimate relationship with the most infuriating person on the planet.

Aaron looks down at the tile, lining his feet up with the edge of the blocks as if he's walking a tightrope. "Katelyn tried to go to class this morning. She didn't want to miss her lecture," he says, and tries to act like it's no big deal. He sways a little, and swallows the lump in his throat, because these are not things he gives away to anyone. It's just as exposing; as soon as he'd found out, he'd walked her back to her dorm and helped her change into pajamas. She passed out almost instantly, her fever spiking. Too much care, too much worry. Aaron had paced the floor a good twenty minutes, debating an urgent care visit.

He's just as pathetic as Andrew, but he wouldn't dare stop if it means looking after Katelyn. He bites his lips and shrugs, as if it's not as emotionally revealing as it is. It probably doesn't work. "I was so mad. Uh, you know how it is."

No kidding—they both just accidentally revealed it. Aaron never thought 'hopelessly enamored' would ever be associated with his own feelings, much less Andrew's.

But there's really no other explanation with that one.

"Oh?" Andrew tilts his head, as if daring Aaron to continue. It's dangerous territory, but that's what they deserve for addressing an old therapy issue in the middle of a grocery store. They might know their feelings are the same, but verbally acknowledging how is a different matter.

So continue, Aaron does. Neither of them are getting out of this one.

Won't Bee be proud?

Petulantly, Aaron glares, and loses his balance on the wire. He promptly spirals down. "Yeah, well… You want to take care of Neil too, right?"

It's a dare, a provocation. It's also ill-advised, but he can't be more mature in every way. There's no way Andrew can refute it and have Aaron believe him. He's been trapped into the truth.

Andrew tenses and glares back, expressive for how much he tries not to be. Aaron is more used to that now too. On the subject of his striker, his brother can't keep up the expression. It melts back into a reluctant calm, and his sigh is relenting.

Right.

A store intercom rings above them, something about how they really need someone up on registers. It's grounding in a way; Aaron grabs a few more cans and stubbornly throws them into the basket by Andrew's feet.

They're in too deep at this point. This is now a joint trip, as painful as it may be. Andrew looks down at the basket, which as of now holds both their soup choices and a candy bar Andrew must've snagged along the way.

Andrew squints, looking back up at Aaron, and surprise, surprise...

"I need the extra strength cough syrup."

He avoids answering altogether.

Aaron sighs; he saw that coming, but Andrew's trapped himself unknowingly.

"That's more expensive, you know," Aaron says, a playful lilt to his tone.

Andrew glares, but he must admire Aaron somewhat for the payback, because he finally admits: "It's better for him, it's also the only one with the flavor he tolerates," Andrew grits out, and no amount of bravado can make that sound anything less than....oh, completely fucking whipped.

So, Andrew gives some more as a war prize. "I need the tissues with the lotion too."

Aaron suppresses his snort (also, for real, those can't be necessary), and dutifully leads them to the next aisle.

--

Andrew ends up convincing him that the lotion tissues are superior, so one point for him or whatever.

They still don't know how to do this, and they don't get a lot better at it over the course of the following forty-five minutes, but they continue dropping the most mundane facts in hopes it doesn't give too much away.

But it always does.

Andrew makes a sharp turn with the sole intention of making the basket stab Aaron in the knee, and Aaron kicks it in return. Then he realizes where they are, and the words pour like shots.

He wonders if it's a consequence of therapy, that he ends up flaying himself open for Andrew in the hopes that he'll be given honesty in return. He's learned that lately, it's more effective than he once thought.

"Katelyn...hasn't been drinking much lately," he starts slowly when they pass through the alcohol aisle. It's a far cry from the boring 'favorite color' facts he's been trading thus far, but it hits him like a blow. It's not that it hasn't been on his mind, he just hasn't had a chance to talk it out because...

Part of him kind of doesn't want to. The person he talks to is Katelyn, and he's not quite ready for this discussion.

But tonight's that kind of night.

The aisle is a shortcut, nothing more than a connector to the medicines on the far side, but Aaron falters. The brands and bottles all stir up confusing memories for him, some fun, some not so much. The colored glass warps his expression like liquor warps his mind, and his body is already swimming through molasses to keep up.

Mixing drinks with what he used to do was never smart, and Aaron's thankful he's where he is now. He's not so reckless, but he indulges from time to time. Katelyn used to also, but lately she's been finding more reasons not to. And that's okay. He's never pushed or questioned it, but he can't help but wonder. He pauses in front of the daiquiri mixes. Katelyn's favorite.

The action makes Andrew wait for him, regarding him from the end of the aisle for a long moment. Then, in another act that shouldn't surprise Aaron but does, Andrew comes back for him.

Aaron's closed throat feels less tight. What did he call Andrew earlier? A road block. No, maybe he's more like...a steel beam, every once in a while. Supportive, but it could crush him in an instant. It's not Andrew's intent, but he'll take it. "I know she's never been a drinker, but part of me thinks it's because she worries about me."

And there it is.

He's aware he should be angry, just a little. But he can't be, because the worry and judgment come from a place of honesty, commitment. Aaron won't say he hasn't had the same fear—the fear of falling back down a different hole of addiction. He's better now, more responsible. He couldn't imagine ruining their lives like that, but he and Katelyn are pragmatic people. He knows it's hard to keep control in those circumstances, to rise above once he's caught in the trap. It wouldn't be all his fault, but he's susceptible and they both know it. She would stand by him as much as she could, but Aaron's honestly not sure if he would want her to if it ever came down to that.

That's not fair, and that's why he's determined to not let it happen.

Katelyn's precaution, intentional or subconscious, is just her protecting him in return. It's what they need to work on, what they need to talk about, before it's twisted into a misunderstanding.

But revisiting old wounds is not what Aaron is good at. At least, not right away.

He's not expecting Andrew to say anything; it's not his business and his black and white worldview probably prevents him from seeing it that way. In his mind, Katelyn is in the wrong and that's all that matters.. If anything, Aaron expects that statement, but then—

"She shouldn't," Andrew says, nearly admonishing. Aaron's gaze snaps up, and Andrew glares at the bottles in front of him to avoid meeting his eyes. He'd usually grab that particular brand of whiskey, but today he doesn't. Then, after a moment: "Knowing her obnoxious levels of optimism, she's probably trying not to. But that's her problem."

Andrew’s words are strained, but no less meaningful. He doesn't do comfort, and that's not what this is. Aaron knows a few things in that moment; the first is that Andrew definitely does not agree with Katelyn. That's fine. He never asks his brother to understand everything about his relationship anymore. Aaron certainly doesn't understand parts of Andrew's. The second thing, arguably the aspect he cares about more, is that Andrew clearly knows something Aaron does not.

Andrew isn’t offering a pat on the back, only what he knows to be factual.

He feels involuntarily exposed this time, and forgets that sometimes it's simply the way it has to be to move forward. Aaron nearly growls. "How—"

But Andrew simply sends him a look that reads don't ask. Aaron should know the answer.

Neil.

It's been a while since Aaron has felt a sharp slap of disdain for the redhead, but it shoots through him in the moment before fizzling out. Of course. Why wouldn't Neil know? Why wouldn’t Neil confide in Andrew about it?

Aaron always liked to think it was a shared strength, that he and Andrew could trust their partners so completely, give or take some setbacks. But it seems this time he's the one lagging behind.

He glares at the floor. He doesn't know how to feel. Why Neil possibly knows about this issue before he gets to address it himself is something he wants to feel rage over, but he just can't. It's not like confronting Neil at the cabin or in the dorm hall. He doesn't have the energy, and he knows he doesn't want to.

It's not...like that anymore.

Just knowing Katelyn has someone to talk to is enough, because that only means eventually, she'll talk to him too. And can he blame her? Here he is, telling Andrew.

Andrew, who feels as much sympathy as a log on most days, is still trying his best to give Aaron the truth.

Leave it to Andrew to rip off the bandaid, and Aaron feels the sting. But he needed it. It's the only thing that reminds him it'll eventually be okay.

It's quiet for a few moments as Andrew looks back at the bottles, tracing the curvy scripts. There's a steadily building tension in his frame; at first, Aaron thinks it's repressed hostility towards Katelyn, but far from it.

Andrew's struggle to give in the same way is all too apparent in his words.

"Neil and I drink sometimes, just when we're together," Andrew forces out evenly. He reaches out to spin one of the security tags on a particularly large bottle of vodka, tracing the ears of the rabbit logo afterwards. Aaron flinches a little; he didn't know that. His brain catches up just enough, letting him know that Andrew is giving this to him in return for his own vulnerability, so he should at least listen. Flexing his jaw, Andrew's tone loses some of the smoothness. "Last time...something happened. With me. He's been hesitant ever since."

It sounds like Andrew is chewing glass, and Aaron knows better than to ask for an elaboration on the ‘what’ that happened. Hell, Andrew exposing the reason for his and Neil's weekend getaways is most likely more than Andrew wanted to share in the first place.

Andrew won't answer anything Aaron asks, but he reads into it enough. "You miss it," he says, and again it feels like they're on a level playing field.

Andrew glares his usual 'I don't miss anything' glare, but doesn't actually say the words. Instead, he turns back in the direction of the medicine aisle, and throws the words over his shoulder.

"I hate losing control," he states. "Neil is a reason I hate it less."

Translation: Yes, I miss it. But Neil is just as stupidly worried as Katelyn.

It goes unsaid that they ended up with worry warts for partners. Aaron gives up trying to analyze anymore; there are things about his brother and Neil that are impossible to grasp. But Aaron is learning more and more that their relationship has similar flaws to his own, that they have their own challenges to wade through.

And if one of them can manage, so can the other.

Aaron walks away from the aisle feeling less stuck—the quicksand around his ankles turns to water, easy to wade through.

He's not sure how many more of those confessions he's going to get, but he won't take them for granted.

Later, when they're passing through the candy section for Andrew's stockpile, the facts turn lighter. "Katelyn only eats the red starbursts, it's cute," he says, unable to hide his dreamy smile as he throws the red starbursts pack into the basket. She won't be able to taste them yet, but whatever, it'll be a welcome reward in a few days when her sniffles are gone.

Instead of the apathy and dismissiveness, Andrew holds the gummy bears in his hand at arm's length. Like they offend him. Aaron was wondering why he's even considering them. They're not even close to Andrew's usual brand of cavity inducers.

"Neil never finishes his gummy bears," Andrew says, and seethes a little over the word 'his.' Of course, it's Neil's fault that Andrew has to spend money on the bland treats Neil doesn’t even love. But Andrew puts them in the basket anyways. "Last time he was bored, so we built a fake set for them."

Aaron blinks, following after Andrew towards the registers. "Like...for a play?"

"It helped him study for his lit exam."

Somehow, it's impossible for his brain to conjure up an image of Andrew building a gummy bear Shakespeare set, but he supposes weirder things have happened. He wonders if Andrew indulges Neil by doing voices, or if he recites the lines in his normal dull monotone.

Aaron hides a smirk at the thought. "Nerds."

He takes them back to the medicine aisle last minute due to the guilt tripping from Andrew for buying the cheaper brand of cough syrup, and figures he might as well stock up on bandages too. Exy is a violent sport, and he's not quite sure why he plays it.

"Bandages are over there," Andrew says, pointing deliberately at where Aaron is clearly already looking. Dick. "Don't buy the cheap brand, they gave Neil a rash."

Aaron scoffs. "Guess you would know best, with how much your boy gets scraped up," he says, but he still listens. Once more, he notes that Andrew's suggestion is several dollars more. He really does spare no expense on anything, especially for his boy toy—boyfriend. Boyfriend.

"He's never as bad as the other person," Andrew remarks offhandedly, but Aaron gets stuck on the comment. Before, he used to not pay attention to anything Andrew said that didn't make sense to him, writing it off as unimportant. It's amazing what he can pick out now that he actually processes the words. In this case, it's thinly veiled praise for his violence-prone boyfriend.

Aaron's no idiot; Neil has to at least be somewhat capable at throwing a punch, and who knows what else.

It's appealing, watching someone you love trade blows. Aaron himself never fails to feel a rush of adrenaline and adoration when Katelyn rushes to his defense.

It would make sense for Andrew to enjoy watching Neil be his typical chaotic self. But for whatever reason, that logic doesn't compute with what he knows about Andrew's protective streak—especially where Neil is concerned.

And since he doesn't know how to put that all into words, he says: "I don't know how you don't kill anything that tries to touch him."

That's how he thought it worked, how he's seen it work. So why all the fuss about letting Neil fight his own battles, when it's clear it eats at Andrew like a vulture picking at his intestines?

Andrew regards him slowly, looking at him like he's grown two heads. Right, because Aaron is supposed to be able to parse through all their weird layers. He rolls his eyes.

"I will when he asks," Andrew responds calmly, and before Aaron can open his mouth he holds up a hand. "And he does."

Again, a warning laces his tone: don't ask.

Aaron huffs. Fine. He guesses he'll believe it for now. Come to think of it, he's been seeing less and less of Neil's insistence to handle shit on his own. Just the other week, he seemed to give up too easily when arguing with a jock from another team, and Andrew had stepped in a moment later.

He had thought Neil looked a little too happy about that.

Tracking him still, Andrew shrugs in such a careless way that he'd think Neil had taken over his body. "I know he doesn't need it. And yes, it's annoying."

Aaron's not so sure. It's scary how Andrew can read his mind sometimes, can connect the dots of the intricate roadmap between them. He sees things from a distance, sees it all, while Aaron is the one who forces them to actually zoom in and take in the landscape. Piece by piece, he forces them to explore.

"So why do it?" he asks, frustrated, but Andrew only picks up the blue can of chicken noodle and waves it in Aaron's face.

"Soup."

Fine, don't tell me.

He figures this is just Andrew's way of saying he's done with the abnormal sharing for the night, but then he realizes. Soup. Motherfucking soup? Aaron had said—

"You want to take care of Neil too, right?"

Son of a bitch. Does Andrew always have to be so cryptic and non-linear?

That's the explanation. It's the obvious one, the one Aaron could already infer. But the confirmation is staggering. Andrew wants to protect Neil; more than that, he likes to. That's the difference. He never would've admitted that before. It doesn't matter how capable Neil is or how appealing it is to see him fight. At the end of the day, they both have some weird thing about it.

Aaron feels nauseated. He’s learned too much. Again.

"Is that really so hard to say, Andrew?" Aaron huffs the next moment though, so he guesses he must be more upset than he thought. "You know, I'm trying here."

He only has so much tolerance for his brother's ways. He can detect them better now; he can see the ins and outs. But sometimes it's tiring. Sometimes he wants to be given things in the same straightforward way he gives them. It's childish, it's selfish, but fucking hell, Aaron isn't perfect. He knows it won't happen, but if they're still being truthful, then Aaron can at least let Andrew know that it's hard sometimes.

It's hard to do this, but it's worth it. So he won't stop. Andrew just has to put up with his bitching every now and again.

At 10 p.m., he's reached his limit.

Andrew beats him to it, throwing up a barrier for Aaron's rage to smash into and fizzle out into nothing. "Are you going to scream your undying love for Mrs. Minyard to me, then?" he asks, and Aaron jumps back. Andrew's anger simmers, barely, but his words are cutting. "I am trying too."

They've both been trying so damn hard the past year. And for what?

Well—for a lot, actually. They've certainly gained more than they've lost.

And like that, Aaron's made Andrew give more than he was maybe willing to tonight. The guilt sits somewhere in his gut, but he can't regret it. Because Andrew still confessed. Andrew still held out his hand, just a little. Like he's been doing for months.

Aaron can't begin to imagine how horrible it must be, for someone like his twin to acknowledge the effort he's putting in. It sounds ridiculous, but Aaron should get it better than anyone right? That it's hard to admit you have faith in something when not much in your life ever lasted before.

Taming his own outburst, Aaron clenches his fists at his sides. Slow, measured. "I know, but—"

"You're suddenly so hung up on listening to Bee, what happened to her affinity for patience?" Andrew says, nearly mocking, but Aaron knows it's not some flippant comment. He means it. He's telling Aaron to back off, and while he respects it most days, he feels too close to a revelation to listen.

This is never easy, and it shouldn't be. Not for them. They always knew that, even before they were fully convinced they could get any farther than silent videogame marathons and nods from across the room. Before they thought they would ever keep in touch past college.

Now, Aaron knows there's no way they won't. They're just...fighting. They're having a typical, moronic squabble. It's not a setback, it's not a threat. Aaron has to repeat that over and over in his head, and it somehow makes snapping back less menacing.

"Asshole," he bites out. "You just want to get out of it. You know it's...it's fine to just say those things, it's—"

"Normal?" Andrew asks, and yup, that's definitely mocking. Aaron's not sure what that means, what's in Andrew's head about the word or Aaron's connection to it, but it doesn't matter.

"Yes," Aaron says with a laugh, disbelieving. He paces to the end of the aisle and back. He knows he's just as thick headed, and that's what hurts the most. Embarrassing. "It's normal to just admit you think your dumb boyfriend is cute, and talk about him because to be honest, it's obvious already how much you want to!"

It's potentially unfair; he never expects normalcy from Andrew. He doesn't want it anymore, apart from getting to act like brothers and argue without the fear of exploding and fucking up everything. Aaron wouldn't dare ask Andrew to be normal in any situation, but this is different. He's not saying it's normal or necessary for society's standards, or because other people do it. He's saying it's fucking normal because Andrew wants it to be. Hell; Aaron's been watching his twin bite his tongue and keep back details from Aaron all night. No shit, Andrew will never share the private feelings—the ones he keeps close, just between himself and Neil. But goddamn, if he wants to tell Aaron about Neil's weird gummy bear Macbeth monologue, he should just go for it.

For a while, Andrew stands there, tight lipped, until finally: "I don't care what's normal." For a brief moment, Aaron thinks he's lost this round, that the point escaped Andrew completely. But his twin is smart. Stubborn, and infuriating too. But smart. With a sigh, Andrew relents, though not without resistance in his voice. "I care...that it's us."

Aaron holds his breath, waiting for Andrew to refute it or storm away. But he doesn't, and Aaron can exhale.

Yes, duh. Neil and Andrew...no one will ever mistake them for anything remotely close to normal. They've built their own version of it though, and Aaron only hopes that in time Andrew can expand the definition to include this. That he'll be able to indulge himself however he wants, like Aaron does with Katelyn. That he'll be able to talk about Neil without worrying about how it reveals his feelings. Because Andrew hates sharing Neil, but he wants to trust Aaron enough to offer bits and pieces.

And Aaron wants to do the same. It's been a rough first attempt, but an attempt regardless.

And anyways, Aaron won't tell him tonight, but one day he's really going to have to let his twin know...

Andrew's feelings haven't been well hidden for a long time.

Until then, they have to deal with the awkwardness they created, standing in silence as an old lady walks through the aisle and regards them warily.

They should've saved this for their session. Whoops.

Pathetically, for the sake of doing something, Aaron grabs a thermometer (he needs one of those, right?) and throws it into the basket. Awesome.

In return, since that's the glorious theme of the night, Andrew tosses in some bandaids. The patterned ones. They're pink and cutesy, and make him think of Katelyn, wrapped in her fluffy pink towel after yet another hot shower to clear her sinuses.

He doubts Neil is faring better. They should get back.

At the thought of Katelyn, Aaron smiles. It brings him back to something softer Andrew said, though just as peculiar. He never fails at that.

"Why do you call her that?" Aaron asks, breaking the silence. It's gentler this time, less of a shatter and more of a push. When Andrew blinks, Aaron waves his hand. "Mrs. Minyard."

It gives Aaron a funny feeling in his chest, not necessarily good but also not bad, and he pushes it away to deal with another time.

Andrew's expression gives nothing away. That’s always the case, but even more so this time. It's blank, but he blinks slowly, chewing on his words in the way Aaron hates. Well, he supposes no one can quit cold turkey.

"A feeling," Andrew answers, and doesn't elaborate. He looks down at his own hand for a moment too long, flexing his fingers, then turns away like it's nothing. Aaron doesn't have enough braincells left to figure out what the fuck it's all about.

"Come on, let's go," Andrew says. Aaron feels like after all that, he has to put himself out there at least once. He has to prove to Andrew it's okay. It's okay to do this and trust him with this, so he'll believe in Andrew too.

"I do. Love her, I mean," Aaron says, mumbling the statement petulantly. He's a natural grump. It’s unavoidable. However, when Andrew turns back, he clears his throat. He can't say this without enthusiasm, without conviction. It's just not possible. He thinks of Katelyn's sugary sweet smiles, the croak of her voice after she cheers him on too hard. He thinks of it all—of tears staining his sweater, of being held while shedding his own. He thinks of calloused hands, rife with paper cuts from too many study guides, and the way she whispers each goodbye, because she secretly hates them. All of that and more, too much to contain in the word, but he tries. "I love her so much, it feels like saying it cheapens it somehow. I...don't usually, unless we're alone. But I do."

And it's humiliating to say to this person—his brother, someone who he's always held at an emotional distance. But he can't hope to bridge this gap any other way; he can't hope for more of Andrew's steps forward if he doesn't take his own.

It's a formula they're familiar with now. It's one he hopes they never stop using.

And just when he thinks it's for nothing, Andrew nods. Once, subtly, but he does.

"I understand," he offers, and there's a heaviness to the statement Aaron doesn't get. But it's enough. He wants to tell Andrew it's enough, but Andrew meets him halfway. "Neil told me people don't have to say it, if they know it's true. He's infuriating like that, but he's right about people's idiocy."

Aaron has a feeling 'people' is being used as a stand in there, but he doesn't comment. He's well aware he doesn't have to say it, that saying it changes nothing about how he feels. But—

"I guess he's right for once," Aaron comments lazily, and throws Andrew a smug smile. "But I still want to."

He likes to. And that's all there is to it, sometimes.

So if you one day want to, I'm all ears.

Even if it's not the three words, if it's just some offhand comment about Neil's fighting skills, or where he and Andrew went on a date...he'll listen.

It'll be gross, but he's got plenty more anecdotes to throw back. He despises admitting when Bee is right, but he'll give her credit this time.

They have their people, and they should be able to talk about them.

Andrew rolls his eyes, but stubbornly keeps his gaze fixed forward. "Don't give him that much credit," he mutters, and no, Aaron wouldn't dream of it.

They don't mean to sync up their steps as they walk. It just happens.

--

"Oh, hang on," Aaron says out of the blue as they stand in line. He's thankful he has some control of his reflexes, as he almost smacked Andrew in the arm. They aren't there yet.

But nevermind that. Priorities. Next to them is a toy stand, one of those three tier ones grocery stores always put near the registers because little kids can't resist hounding their parents for one. This one in particular has a good selection of tiny stuffed toys, and Aaron spies his jackpot almost immediately.

It's a spotted, light pink kitten with giant eyes. It's soft, and so absurd looking. Whoever designed it probably tried to think of everything cutesy they could before sewing it onto the plush. In short, it's the kind of sappy, adorable thing Katelyn will love.

Proudly, he picks it up and holds it in front of him like he's a genius. He sort of is.

He's not sure he's ever seen his brother look so disgusted in his life, which is saying quite a lot. Aaron's smugness increases.

God, it's minuscule. It fits in his hand perfectly. If he's lucky, Katelyn will squeal even through all the snot.

He's not sure why Andrew decides to humor him. He must be in a better mood than Aaron thought, since he eventually asks: "Why?"

Aaron is all too happy to explain. He holds the kitten up to Andrew's face as if tempting a rabid rottweiler.

"Ah—what? It's cute. Katelyn loves stuff like this," he explains, but his next words have a softer edge. It happens against his will, and he blames it on Katelyn entirely. Knowing this ridiculous thing will bring her some joy is more than worth the twelve dollar price tag. "It'll make her feel better. Like a gift, ever heard of one? I've seen Neil's growing wardrobe. He's not buying his own clothes."

Andrew's expression sours further, but he doesn't fight the statement right away. He should know he can't. The clothes are only one example; Aaron's also seen the jewelry and various fox-themed knick knacks Neil has lying around. Idiot.

Instead, Andrew bats the kitten away. “Clothes are required, especially when you live out of one bag your whole life," he comments, but it doesn't expose him any less. From the smug grin on Aaron's face, Andrew must sense it. He points at the kitten harshly. "That, however, is pointless."

Aaron's grin falls, but he's unwilling to give up. Andrew obviously doesn't see the full picture in this case. He holds the kitten close to his chest. While he normally hates these things too, it's been designated as a gift for Katelyn.

Therefore, it's sacred.

"It's adorable. Katelyn will go nuts over it, and I'll take sick kisses over no kisses," Aaron points out, and delights in the moment Andrew tenses. Haha. "You're only hurting yourself."

"Never thought I'd hear that in this context," Andrew mutters, but turns back to the stand with significantly less annoyance.

Aaron is having too much fun.

"I'm just saying, Neil would probably hate this shit on its own..." he adds, and leaves the rest unsaid. The implication is clear. Neil could give a rat's ass about gifts and stuffed toys. But coming from Andrew?

He'd probably burst, like a loser. And whether or not Andrew likes to admit it, it's a weakness. He can't resist evoking that reaction from his jock boyfriend.

Still, he tries. "Neil would never be interested in this," Andrew says, and reaches out to grab one of the toys roughly. It's a little stuffed lamb with snow white wool, and it’s even smaller than the kitten. In Andrew's large, murderous hands, it almost seems to be crying out to Aaron for help.

Andrew stares at it for an impossibly long time, and then it's their turn. Aaron takes the basket from Andrew's stalled hands and tries not to make any wheezing sounds from how heavy it is. Andrew was carrying that shit for an hour?

"Well, how would you know?" Aaron throws over his shoulder as he dumps the contents onto the conveyor belt. He looks at the lamb, at how stupid it looks, and wonders when he himself got so soft. He's not sure what it's a consequence of, but it doesn't feel bad.

No reason to question it.

Andrew turns to him and arches a brow, and Aaron delivers his final punch.

"Neil's probably never had a stuffed animal before," he remarks, doing his best to impersonate Neil's shrug. The ones Allison has tried to force on Neil in the past don’t exactly count. Then, because they share the asshole trait, Aaron adds: "I mean, living out of a bag and all."

And oh, Andrew's glare could send their world as they know it straight to the depths of hell. He squeezes the lamb in a death grip, but notably doesn't let go.

Aaron's spine tingles from Andrew's intense, vengeful stare on the back of his neck as the cashier rings them up, but whatever revenge he gets will be worth it. He figures it can't be too bad when Andrew offers him a ride home, and the silence is more peaceful than anything else.

They walk to the dorms with the stuffed animals pressed under their elbows. If they both end up sick a few days later, neither of them choose to bring up the cause.

[queen-of-my-goofball-army]

Why I Love (Part Ten)

We talked about my favorite sports anime the day before yesterday with Free Iwatobi Swim Club but it wasn’t my first. I was in high school when this show was first being released my senior year to be exact. I wasn’t watching anime at the time but this was one of the three shows that got me back into the artform and the first I finished. That show was the ever popular Yuri On Ice. 

When I was first watching this show it didn’t take me very long at all to find the character that would become one of my “smol babies”. He might seem vicious and vindictive but I think that relates to him not having much of a family that we know of other than his grandfather. Let’s talk about fave number ten Yurio Plisetsky. 

I love this kid like a lot. To me he’s one of the most developed characters in the entire show. Watching him go from being dicey and prickly around Yuuri to learning to consider him a genuine rival and friend brought me to tears. He much like Rei is so determined to bring his best to the table. Even if it means he exhausts himself to get there. 

Watching him find his agape that he would do his routine to was the first moment when I saw something different in him. At first he was just kind of a punk a really adorable tiger loving punk but a punk all the same. Him discovering that his grandpa is the only person to ever love him without any conditions or rules behind that love was the first time my heart went out to him. The first time I saw him skate to it I honestly cried. Watching that raw emotion and that passion come from a place that I had least expected it to it made me emotional. It takes a lot for me to cry over something that I don’t have a previous emotional attachment to like Fruits Basket. 

I really want to briefly bring up something, it’s just a minor thing. The English dub for the show isn’t as bad as everybody makes it out to be. Yeah I said it. I love all of the actors and the emotions that they bring to these characters. But the standout for me is an actor that always brings his A game no matter what the role is and that’s Micha Solusod who played Yurio. He was so good to the point where my first three rewatches I didn’t even know it was him. 

Deep down Yurio’s ultimate goal is to please Victor. He hasn’t had much guidance in terms of role models but Victor with all of his flaws is one of them. He wanted to impress him the same way that Victor manages to impress his audience. I love their relationship and their interactions that they have with one another. It’s very much older\younger sibling which is why so many of the fic writers write it that way. 

I think Yuri is one of those people that cares a lot more than he lets on. He cared enough to have his grandpa make Yuuri’s favorite food into his favorite food pirozhki. He was driven to make Yuuri continue to skate when he swore that he would retire because he was terrified of losing him. Part of me really hopes that one day we get more content to work with because those thirteen episodes while amazing I’ve kinda rewatched them to death. It’s been my most rewatched anime at eleven times all the way through. Mostly because it’s short, sweet and I love Yurio. 

(Look at this babey he is the cutest thing ever!! I also really loved how people shipped him with Otabek that was adorable. I really hope someday we get more content animated for my favorite tiger boi.) 

In short the more I thought about it, the more I thought I think Yurio Plisetsky is my favorite “tsundere” male archetype. Probably even more than Kyo. Because I absolutely adored his development and watching him grow from somebody that trusted nothing and nobody other than his grandpa because he was the only person to not leave him behind to someone with people on his side to cheer for him through all life’s ups and downs. Watching him take home the gold and that skate at the very end of the series was so beautiful for me because it was the classic look at my boy he actually did it!! It’s rare that I have characters I want to “protect” but Yurio is my main one. 

[alchemist-shizun]

5 times Logan saved the day + 1 in which ... well that could’ve gone worse!

General taglist: @whizzie72 @sapphire-knight @burningpersonflapsuitcase @softanxiouspatton @royallyanxious

Word Count: 2,716

Characters: Logan, Roman, Deceit, Virgil, Remus and Patton

Pairing(s): Logicality

Warning(s): Misgendering, crying, implied aphobia

Summary: People could say Logan was excellent at saving people in extremis. When it came to him in particular, though … what could he say. He gay panicked.

A/N: Am I not just great at summaries? I had yet to do one of this type of fics so here goes nothing. I also took the opportunity to expand the lgbtq+ rep I have in my writings, hope you don't mind! Idea originated from this post, then @pistachio-lan inspired me so yeah thank you bud you're cool. Pardon me if some scenes are too short and other much longer I can't control my creative flow anymore-- I hope you all enjoy!

1- In which Logan saves Roman's day

Entering class with the widest smile any human muscle could ever bear, Roman practically bounced towards his seat.

A group of students immediately surrounded him, few were the times where one expressed such profound happiness first thing in the morning.

Logan eyed him from his desk right next to Roman's.

People started gathering and asking what was up with him, pushing the boy, who couldn't stop smiling, to confess the reason of such joy.

« I just had the most wonderful time last night. »

Multiple voices overlapped at that, with classmates asking for details, clarifications … who it was.

Only that, Roman had forgotten for a moment that literally none of them knew the only person he could have had a date with was a boy.

That was Logan's cue to act.

« You guys are aware we had to do a quick research for today, right? »

A chaos of “what?” and similar shocked expressions ensued, driving the attention away from Roman.

« The teacher said he was going to ask what we found out about the most recent discovery on Mars. »

« Oh, you've got to be kidding me. » that one kid that, for some reason, was always ahead of the program, hit their head against the backpack they had laid on the surface of the desk. « I literally spent the whole afternoon yesterday looking stuff up and I left it all at home! »

The situation could only worsen, people frantically ran around the room with some friends, competing at who found information first.

The hint of an amused smile crossed Logan's lips.

« You just made that up. » he heard Roman go, who had noticed his behavior.

« Isn't it lovely to watch the whole class go wild with dismay? »

Roman snorted and absorbed their classmates' despair. « You're a mean one, Lo. » he kept looking ahead of himself. « But thank you. »

Neither of their smiles faltered.

2. In which Logan rescues Deceit from a probably very uncomfortable explanation.

Nights out with friends often meant the weirdest stuff was about to happen. The one time they had started to jokingly call one of their group “Deceit” was definitely one of their top moments.

But, especially, the most delirious ones happened when they threw ridiculous YouTube videos or vines in the lot.

« Look at this. » Logan and Deceit leaned on the table towards their two friends. It was an extract from a song Bo Burnham had released years prior.

And, well, when certain comments come to you naturally … there's no way to stop yourself before the deed is done.

« Oh, that's me. » Deceit had said. Or, actually, Deceit had said right upon hearing the lyric “half-boy”.

Promptly forgetting for a single instant his other two friends had no clue of him being a demi-boy.

Not even the hint of a single trait of confusion could paint their friends' faces when Logan intervened.

« I've actually seen one of his shows in person in the past. »

« Oh my goodness, you have? » wide eyes stared at him with deep interest.

As the three engaged a conversation on the comedy skills of the man, Deceit was able to steady his heartbeat and take some deep breaths to release the anxiety that had taken over his chest.

He caught Logan's eyes when the waiter had arrived with their orders; he raised a hand and pressed his fingers to his chin, then moved them slightly outward in Logan's direction.

Thank you.

Logan gave a small nod and, just like that, everything went back to the regular outing.

3- In which Logan is Virgil's coolest cousin.

To say Virgil despised having guests over for the night was an understatement. He was obliged to tidy up his generally messy but comfortable room when all he ever wanted was to sleep for eternity as soon as he touched his pillow.

And, of course, there was always something out of place that his little cousin pointed out. Not that he had allowed her to follow him when he had excused himself upstairs.

He heard Logan's voice echo « Miranda! » around the steps.

The door to Virgil's room opened and Miranda was already jumping on his bed.

« Viv! Your bed sheets are so fluffy! »

Virgil forced himself to smile. “She doesn't know.” he repeated in his mind. “It's just a nickname.”

« Miranda, didn't you hear your parents telling you to stay down? » Logan's reprimanding tone made the kid giggle.

« Maybe. » the two older cousins shared a playful eye roll.

« Come on. » Logan held his hand out towards her.

« But I want to stay in her room to see what she does! »

She doesn't know.

« Have you ever heard of privacy? »

« Nope. » Miranda laughed.

Then she noticed something and her eyes grew with curiosity.

« What's that? »

Virgil's eys followed her gaze and fell upon his binder. Of course, out of all things, she had to notice that.

He went to open his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. What could he make up this time? Whatever he told her, she would have wanted to try it on at all costs.

Were he to say the truth, though ... she'd have probably gone to their relatives talking about how he had a weird piece of clothing and that could only end badly.

« Oh, that must be part of your future cosplay? »

Virgil snapped his head back up only to be met with Logan's quick wink.

Keep it up.

« Oh, yeah. I have to sew some things on. »

Miranda gasped in amazement and clapped her hands together. « Can I try it? »

Damn.

« I'm afraid you should have your cousin's exact size. If not, that particular material would be damaged in the ending result. » did he keep lying only to protect him?

The kid whined but dropped the disappointment right away. « What's the name of the character? »

« Virgil. »

« Who is he? »

« Well, just ... » Virgil narrowed his eyes, looking for the best explanation. « Just a boy. »

« Why him? » Miranda was in that brilliant age where everything needed to be questioned.

Logan checked with a side glance to see if his cousin needed assistance. Instead, he found him smiling to himself.

« It makes me happy. »

The little girl seemed pleased enough with that answer. « Then can I cosplay with you one day? Carnival is near! »

« Of course, I can make whichever costume you prefer. »

She squealed in joy and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

Then, she started running off towards the stairs. And she said it.

« Thank you, Virgil! » giggling was heard, but, apart from that, complete nothingness.

Until Virgil dropped on the edge of the bed with his hands covering his face, a slight tremble could be seen shaking his body.

Logan was immediately by his side, offering one of his rare hugs that Virgil gladly accepted.

It felt so nice. Achieving a goal prematurely but ultimately feeling the satisfaction melt away with the knowledge that he was never going to experience that ever again.

What an utopic illusion.

« It's fine. You're okay. » Logan tried, as his cousin's body shook with every sob he failed to repress.

« I'm sorry. »

« Don't be. »

Virgil let go of him as he started wiping his cheeks clear of fresh tears of fear and frustration.

When he looked at the other again, there was a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. « You're the best cousin. »

Logan returned it. « Always glad to be of help. »

4- In which Logan prevents Remus from carving his eyes out out of annoyance.

The blissful rest lunch-break gave after hours of mostly a quiet balance between interest and boredom was the most important reward as noon approached.

That wasn't exactly the case all the time.

Logan and Remus were sitting with two of their classmates who just so happened to have lab afterwards with both of them.

It wasn't like the they were particularly irritating people, on the contrary they radiated a calm energy most of the times.

That one day, though. It seemed something had happened in one of their lives and they needed all the time in the world to get every single detail out. They involved every one of them in the conversation and everything would have been fine if they had stopped at simply asking opinions on the matter.

« C'mon Remus, how about you? »

« What? »

« You never talk about this stuff. » one of the two leaned forward. « Spill the beans. There has to be someone you like. »

Remus smiled falsely. Oh, he was so done. They had gone the last fifteen minutes trying to get out of him information that he didn't have.

« Of course! You if you stuffed your mouth with trash bags and finally stopped talking. »

« Aw, stop being weird and evading the question. »

Logan eyed the one who had just spoken.

« I am not, I just don't care. »  Also, since I'm aromantic, I'd really appreciate if you stopped before I prohibit your breathing.

« Everybody gets crushes! »

And I'm about to crush your face.

Remus's hands started fidgeting out of stress under the table, which Logan noticed.

He was about to snap.

« I do. »

The two lab partners' eyes widened and focused on Logan all at once.

« You what now? »

Remus's face was painted with a confused expression: he knew his friend would never open up about himself to acquaintances, let alone about his feelings.

It was what happened after that made him understand.

The other two completely concentrated their attention on Logan, started asking questions about the boy he had been referring to, trying to guess who his crush was almost as if it was a game or anything of their business.

It … did feel kind of sad.

As Remus was able to catch his glance for a sole moment, he wore the “you didn't have to do that” expression.

All he saw was Logan shrugging in a “it doesn't matter” way and carrying on with subjecting himself to the pain of their classmates.

He made a mental note to remind him how grateful he was for that funky little nerd's existence.

5- In which Logan is the Patton protector.

Having friends living nearby school sometimes meant hang out invitations. Also, it often times meant free food which was everything that was good in the whole planet.

Logan had internally beamed as Patton had come back to the living room asking him to stay for dinner, while he had pretended not to hear a faint “Would you like to stay forever?” coming from his little sister.

He had tried not to agree right on the spot, but it was difficult to hesitate when being asked to spend even more time than intended with one of his favorite people.

That was how the two of them were now sitting with Patton's lovable family, discussing unimportant things and just all around enjoying their time.

Logan loved being around them, it was a delightful break from the coldness in his own home, he could get along with all the components just fine.

There was a television behind Patton's parents; they hadn't been exactly listening to the news, but it seemed a broadcast about the recent Pride parade in town was being held.

« Oh look! » Patton pointed to the screen with a toothy smile as a pan flag flashed across the TV.

He froze while his parents' expression grew perplexed the more they paid attention to the news.

« You really need to get rid of this habit you have of getting excited when you see dogs. » Logan started, adjusting his glasses as Patton and his parents turned to him.

« Why? » Patton's confused tone was half-real.

« You almost startled me simply because there was a dog on television. »

That was when he understood. « It was an adorable husky, Logan! »

Laughter started to fill the room and the previous disorientation was soon forgotten.

As his guest stood up to get more food, Patton heard a whisper being stealthily delivered to his ear.

« Be careful. »

He couldn't help but smile to himself. Logan was always on the lookout for others and it was a quality that almost came natural to him.

And he needed to thank him for that properly.

6- In which Logan forgets to stop himself.

An echo of “thank you”s rained down on Logan yet again as he and Patton stepped out on the garden of Patton's home.

This time, though, there was none to prevent him from potentially ruining his relationship with his interlocutor. And, ultimately, even everyone else around him.

As his cousin was used to believe the worst outcomes to happen, it did actually affect him at times. But, in that moment, he had gone completely blank and forgot to steady his impulse control.

« I'd do anything for you. » was what aimed fire.

He had meant to only think that.

Yet, he didn't find heartbreak and misery.

Instead, he watched as Patton's expression softened even more. Patton got a few steps closer, so that only Logan could hear his murmur.

« I feel the same. »

Logan's eyebrows arched slightly. Happiness quickly gave way to a clenching feeling in his chest.

« No, wait. » he responded, looking down and then back up. « I don't think that's a good idea. »

Patton's eyes narrowed for a moment. « For me to like you? » that was absurd and maybe his tone was a bit hurt.

Why would he say something like that?

« Lo, you're a wonderful person, and- »

« No- I mean, it's not that. » Logan gesticulated, trying to find the best explanation without actually telling anything.

« Logan, you know whatever you'll tell me, all the good things I think of you won't change. »

The boy took a deep breath, some of the weight relieved already.

« I am asexual. » he looked away immediately. « And I know plenty of people despise that and say it's not real, so if you don't- »

« I think that's wonderful. » when Logan met Patton's gaze, he found one of those smiles Patton only dedicated to him. « And I don't see why I shouldn't like that about you, too. »

A smile slipped on Logan's face, the dreadful feeling leaving space for relief. « Now you're just making it too difficult with your unconditional love. »

Patton let out a quiet snicker. « Well then, » his tone grew bolder. « We could talk this over dinner sometimes soon if you'd like? » he had clapped his hands together, looking up at Logan with a twinkle of hope in his eyes.

« That was too sly for me to refuse. »

« As if you weren't happy I just asked you out! »

All Logan could do was, of course, groan at how flustered that line made him. « I'll concede that to you. »

As the time to part drew nearer, Patton took two steps back, thoughtful.

« Are you okay with hugs right now? »

Despite having told his friends years prior of how he had never fancied physical touch that much, he was always grateful whenever they posed that question.

« I am. »

« Alright. » Patton stepped closer again and wrapped his arms around Logan's neck, who returned the hug rather quickly as he heard a quiet “thank you” being whispered to his ear.

Then, the shorter boy stepped away, but kept his hands on Logan's shoulders.

« You're my hero. »

With that, Patton was gone.

And Logan was left astonished in the middle of a summer's night.

[angelic-holland]

Alice’s 4k Fic Rec List

Wow! I wanted to thank each and every one of my followers for putting up with me! As a little thank you I wanted to put together this fic rec list of some of my favorite fics. Feel free to send in your own fics and I’ll read as many as I can in my spare time. This is by no means a comprehensive list of fic recs but some of my absolute favorites! My little feedback paragraphs include some spoilers so feel free to skip over them when checking out the fics! 

Peter Parker x Reader

Three Words by @screamholland

Yeah this tore me to pieces! I remember reading it and crying and being like “why must angst hurt me this way” and now I’m addicted to writing angst. The way he looked at you made you feel like a masterpiece displayed in a museum. Yeah! Need Peter Parker to look at me like that. The innocence and beauty of someone’s first love is precious, so fucking precious. 

Band Ten Heart by @robbinholland

This fic is just SO cute. Peter being a fumbling dork is what I live for. The reader describing the cliches of band kid dating tropes hysterical! “Peter Parker, I’m really glad you didn’t quit.” Oh my GOD I squealed when I read that. Clarinet players have talented tongues??? I fucking lost it. Total cute feel good story even though I have no idea how band works, it’s still fucking adorable.

Quantum Heartbreak by @farfromhaz

The title is very very accurate. This fic tore my soul to pieces as I read it. Peter realizing he was gone for three years instead of hours, Peter realizing he has a daughter, the reader having to raise her alone for the first few years, wow that HURTED. But!!! The reader telling Peter she’s pregnant and Peter being so excited about raising his second kid. So bittersweet, absolutely amazing. 

When Peter’s Not Such a Good Boy by @marvelouspeterparker

Oh my god! I have never wanted to dom someone so much. Like the idea of teasing peter is sending me to an astral plane of existence. There are no words to describe how super hot this is. I read this at least once a week. No fucking joke. 

Tom Holland x Reader

We’re Only Kidding Ourselves by @wazzupmrstark

Wow I’ve been reading this series for a LONG time and I’m so in awe of it. It’s so precious, seeing the reader and Tom fall in love. I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers/being forced to work with someone who is a pain in the ass and then finding out they’re secretly a softie. Tom and the reader having those little room service dates? God I lived for it. When they went to the pool at the roof of the hotel oof I lost my MIND. This series is god tier and if you only read one Tom series in your life let it be this one.

Win-Win by @hillsnholland

Making Tom jealous? Oh god I would thrive in that environment. I want that so bad it’s ridiculous. The jealous sex that ensues, hot as fuck! Spanking??? Toms hands were absolutely made for that, there is not enough time to discuss how nice his hands are. Him calling you princess and making you beg for it? Yeah sign me the fuck up! Is there a wait list? I will wait all day. 

Instagram Live by @xoluvx

Tom!!!! Is a grandpa when it comes to technology. This is totally something that idiot would do. Harrison and Zendaya being the cheeky little shits that they are! Hysterical. Plus the smut is hot as fuck. Like i don’t care if the whole world can hear me I just want Tom to dick me down 

Kiss Currency by @madmadmilk

Wow wow wow. First off, Jacky always writes something so incredibly special, like her ability to write inner monologues/thoughts that feel so real and raw? Amazing. I was on the edge of my seat every second while reading this fic. i see “ah clueless idiots in love” and I’m like my kind of story. “I don’t want to see you kissing other people, Babe” duh!!! Reader!!! Ma’am! He likes you!!! anyways this was really cute story and I loved every single little detail from the themed parties to the awkwardness of trying to get a read of a person before admitting to them how you feel. It’s beautiful.

You Again by @strangertingle

Oof this series has me fucking anxious! Every time I get the notif that it’s updated I’m like “eek!” I love the idea that Tom went to California to see about transferring to be with the reader and then through a series of unfortunate events, that didn’t happen. And now here they are! And the reader is like woah maybe I do love Tom imma tell him then BAM! Just kidding! He’s getting married and his fiancée is a schemer! This was the cutest series ever ahhhh

Weekend Getaway by @naturallytom / @hauntedtom

Oof when Ally asked someone to read it I jumped at the chance because I’ve always loved her work. Anyways I adore spooky stuff. I was so fucking terrified the entire time and I loved the fluff to tension to absolute terror to relief Ally built in this story. Just downright amazing.

Up To Your Mouth by @gyllenwh0re 

Wow Alex just knows how to hit every single kink that she could possibly think of in this fic. My jaw was dropped the entire time reading it. Honestly she writes the best most filthy smut on this goddamn website and I always feel so blessed when she posts things because they fuel my wellbeing

Camera Work by @screamsbytom 

Shit I’ve never wanted to make a sex tape so bad. Also Tom being a dumbass and uploading it to the cloud where everyone can see it? Peak chaotic dumbass Tom and it’s 100% something he would do. Tom wanting you hear you moan for him and beg him? Yeah sir I will gladly do just that

You Up? By @thirsttrapholland 

Christ! Fuckboy!tom gets me every time. When he goes and just helps himself to beer I’m like !!! I wanna suck his dick !!! Idk why but Tom being a little asshole but a total softie at heart is such a turn on. Anyways!!!! Lying about missing him even when you really really did? To protect your feelings? Felt that! Nobody likes getting their feelings hurt! 

I Only Feel You by @stuckonspidey

Whew! This fic was absolutely beautifully amazing and devastating. It was so well written, I adore soulmate AUs and this was something else in the best way possible. Like the way the reader was hesitant to join the Holland mob at first, then slowly became okay with it. The push and pull of knowing Tom is her soulmate but being like “I don’t want to put myself in danger” and then deciding she’d ultimately do anything for the person she has grown to love. Wowza! I cant get enough of this fic I try to reread it often.

Goodnight n go by @honeymoonparker

Eek! Looking at the stars with Tom? Biggest goal in life for me tbh. I love the sky and the stars and kissing him underneath the stars? Sign me up for that good shit! Both of them being like aha yeah we’re totally friends aha unless? 👀 too funny I love clueless idiots who have a thing for each other. It’s great. It’s cute, sweet adorable heartwarming I legit read it and go “awwww” every single time. 

It’s Official by @dahliaspidey

Fake dating with Tom? Yes! Clueless idiots in love again? Sign me up! When he gave the reader that bouquet of flowers? Yeah gimme that type of love my dude! Him fumbling over telling the reader how beautiful she is? We love slightly anxious Tom that loves someone but can’t put it in words quickly enough. 

Polo and Prosecco by @keepingupwiththeparkers

Omg this was fucking great. I too do not understand polo but would freely participate for the booze. “You are not getting come on this dress” I YELLED. Because yeah I feel like that would be a bitch to get out??? Also sitting on Tom’s knee/lap yeah sign me up. Katie always writes Tom as such a passionate lover and I feel it in my very soul. 

Lingerie by @mcuspidey

Okay so when is Tom going to buy me expensive lingerie so I can show him??? But seriously lmfao this was so precious and Tom just praising his gal? Yeah sign me UP.

“tattooing all of his favorite curves- that even the lingerie didn’t show off quite as well as his own memory did- with the love that you deserved.” Yeah yeah yeah please I’m here for that I deserve that. Anyways fluffy hot hot stuff 

Harrison Osterfield x reader

Side Effect by @darlingosterfield

I generally don’t read fics with Harrison as the main, like ever. But this series has me hooked! Absolutely hooked! The dynamic between the two of them, the way the reader just really wants to do the god damn assignment but Harrison is a little shit! But he’s also lowkey a big softie. Anyways it’s so beautifully written and I can’t wait to read the rest of it

[creativenicocorner]

for the fake fic title meme: "all in green went my love riding," aaand "believe thou me, cocodrillo"? c:

OOOOOH oooooh d a n g okay! I see you

“All in Green Went My Love Riding” 

not unlike the EE Cummings’s poem it too draws on the myth of Diana (a personal favorite goddess of mine since seeing a beautiful statue of her surrounded by hounds when I was very young - I remember very little of the encounter but I do remember just staring at her and just, resonating - you know? I also remember strawberry picking that day… I’ll find that statue again someday - but all this to just set up the amount I like her ) 

SO! Right, the hypothetical fic: Brilliant, wonderful, and hurt Dr Barbara Lake manages to find out about changelings, trolls, and what’s happened to her dear sweet boy becoming a Trollhunter far before the fight at the museum, before Bular’s death. And Barbara is not a happy camper. 

A partial bit of Suburban Gothic Americana happens with her, because I can’t resist, as well as the hinted suggestion of being the Lady of the Lake - but that’s more of an ominous background scenario that crops up later. In the meantime she lets herself be courted by Strickler, and slowly tries to learn more and more about him - and - much to Jim’s hesitancy - Trollmarket. 

The instance of looking for Killahead bridge at the museum becomes very interesting, especially when Barbara distracts a few changelings. 

She does end up going on a few dates with Strickler, each of them thinking they’re using the other for their own goal when “uh-oh!” FEELINGS™ happen. As well as a realization in seeing the other as a companion, a partner, and ultimately, someone trying to do the best they can with what they have. 

Not that, that stops Barbara from trying to turn Strickler - becoming a metaphorical Stag transformed Actaeon to be chased by his own hounds (That is to say, the Janus Order). 

But instead of killing Strickler she assists in helping him fake his death, and thus turning into the potential Knife Family against Gunmar. There’s more healing and redemption to be done before fully dawning the flag “Knife Family” but along the way the family grows and grows and Gunmar and Morgana quake

Further shenanigans ensue~  

In short: Barbara has more autonomy, kicks butt, plays the “using other but - soft! the Feels!” and is way more involved in Jim’s Trollhunting.  

“Believe Thou Me, Coccodrillo”

Oh dang a title like that continuously draws me towards a fic that encircles Strickler’s waining faith in Gunmar over the centuries. And further believing in the unspoken “Bigger picture.” That is to say the relationship between Strickler and the Pale Lady, and how he became to be so well versed in occult magic. 

However I can’t help but think Crocodile tears will be involved at some point - but who will be crying?  

In which I dive head first into my changeling feels, and how I can’t unsee Morgana as a sort of Victor Frankenstein, unable to control the children she created. In the words of the Daemon:  

“Remember that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend.”

In short: Heavy Man vs. God tropes. 

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Art Of Remembrance (Part 8)

Happy Easter, y’all. I resurrected this fic like Jesus.

Here are the other parts; https://archiveofourown.org/works/22073836/chapters/56672218

Sokka is still angry and no one else has warmed up to her sudden reappearance. Mai seems particularly unentertained by her presence. Azula wishes that she knew why. Maybe Mai had been close to the person she killed. Any which way, Azula is alone. Confined to her room, she decides that it is probably better if she isn’t left isolated. She isn’t sure what is more potent, her sense of gloom or the splotches of darkness expanding in her mind. She thinks briefly of giving into the evil; she is already a killer there isn’t any going back from that. She can very well play the part of an innocent fool as she finds a way to complete her former goals that Sokka had alluded to.

She wanders down halls that she knows she should be familiar with, yet they are foregin all the same and some how serve to instill a deeper sense of loneliness within her. She takes several turns before ultimately deciding that she should have come across the main stairwell by now. She supposes that getting lost in her own home--if she can still call it that--will give her something else to think about. Something that doesn’t involve cursing Sokka’s name for being an ass and cursing her own name for having such a morally bankrupt past.

Azula takes another turn, this time she is almost certain that it is the right one. She finds the door at the end of the hallway and pries it open only to be met by several states. A serving girl puts a halt to her scrubbing of a dish.

“Seriously?” She hisses to herself. She curses to herself; she has so much room in her mind and yet she has managed to forget the way from her room to the dining hall. She rakes her fingers through her hairline. It serves her right for having been so distracted on the journey to her room.

“Do you need help, princess?” One of the chefs offers.

“I’m fine.” Azula mutters before slipping from the room. She’s just perfect. She makes her way back down the hall, pace quickened with irritation. Briefly, she wonders how she has dealt with living here. It doesn’t take much thought to decide that it is completely because, at one point, she had known the palace like the back of her hand. Her mind wanders again and she wonders how many times a significantly younger her had wandered around the palace directionless and crying. Somehow she can’t even imagine her child self to be much of a cryer.

Azula rounds another corner. The adjoining hallway looks vaguely familiar, she thinks that she has seen that suit of armor before. But then again, this hallway bears a likeness to every other hallway she has been down thus far.

At this rate she will miss breakfast and find herself cranky twice over.

.oOo.

“What should we do with her?”

Sokka thinks that Zuko is asking the wrong question. He thinks that is more of a, “how should we handle her?”  He supposes that it doesn’t matter which question is asked, because he doesn’t know the answer to either. How should they handle someone like Azula? Someone dangerous but with only a basic outline as to why she is being punished.

“I’ve already said my piece.” Mai shrugs.

Something in Sokka recoils at the thought of sending her back into the asylum. “But she’s stable.” He finds himself saying. She was before he boldly proclaimed that she is a killer. Once more, prickles of regret stir within him.

“Prison works too.”  Mai replies dryly.

“I can…” He can what? Talk to her? She has made it clear that she doesn’t want conversation and he doesn’t plan on starting one until he gets his apology. Zuko looks at him expectantly. “I don’t know. Never mind. I just don’t think that it's a good idea to lock her up again.”

From across the table Aang nods in agreement. “Maybe if we treat her well and help her get her memories back…”

“She’ll do what she always does, use us and take advantage of us.” Mai cuts in.

Zuko presses his mouth into a hard line. “Maybe we should send her back to the institution until we can decide what to do with her.”

Sokka catches a blur of movement and his stomach plummets.

.oOo.

Azula feels hollow as she hastily gathers an armful of clothes. She isn’t sure where she will go and she hasn’t the time to think of a place. She hasn’t a mental map of the Fire Nation to work with either. But wherever she goes, surely it is better than where she had been.

Unidentified fears and terrors unfurl themselves in her mind. They come in clips and snippets that she is hard pressed to make sense of. She looks at her wrists and sees them shackled. Her head throbs. The room seems to flit between the here and a place much darker. Darker and colder and alive with flailing vines tipped with fluorescent purple. Her head throbs harder. They insist that it will be okay, that she will be just fine. She grips her head and tries to stop the walls from spinning.

She takes pause to slump down against the wall and try to orient herself. There is a tingling in her hands and feet, she feels dizzy. For a fleeting moment she thinks that they are right, that they ought to put her back in an institution.

Azula takes several deep breaths and forces herself to her feet. She is certain that she doesn’t have much time. She grabs a simple sack and tosses her clothes into it. She will raid the kitchen on her way out. If she can survive the merciless winds of the tundra then she can hold her own in the scrawling, bustling capital.

She will lose herself in its tangle of streets and alleys. If she can’t even find herself, then surely they never will.

.oOo.

Sokka throws the door to her room open without so much as a knock. It matters no for there is no privacy to invade in the vacant room.

His stomach lurches. He has forgotten how fast she acts and moves.

He can’t say for sure why he feels such unease, he doesn’t believe that she is a danger to anyone in Capital City--anyone save for Zuko. But that doesn’t mean that she is harmless. No, he realizes, she is doing what she has been doing so well lately; compromising her own wellbeing. And this time he is certain that she is certain that she is saving herself. To some degree, he supposes that she is.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he still toys with the idea that the asylums are connected. That, perhaps, Azula is only one fragment--albeit a major piece--of something much grander. Something more deeply evil than whatever Zuko fears lies in his sister.

He doesn’t know enough. He doesn’t yet know much at all. He does know that he needs to find Azula.

He knows that he needs to do it before she can bring herself too much harm. More pressingly, he needs to find her before they can.

[tonystarkbingo]

TSB September Flash, Week 4 Roundup!

AND THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE, FOLKS!  At least, until our next round starts in a couple weeks...

For our participants, remember to go claim your badges!

If you wanna be a participant in Round Four and you’re not yet, go sign up!

And for all of you... make sure you leave the creators below some love!

Title: Her Epilogue Collaborator: Fighting_for_Creativity Link: AO3 Square Filled: 023 - Epilogue Ship: Peggy/Daniel Rating: Teen Major Tags: Tony remembers, Daniel needs a Hug, Peggy needs a hug, everyone gets a hug, Angst with Happy Ending, AI Peggy, Canonical Character Death Summary: On the day of Peggy Carter's funeral, Tony remembers snippets of his childhood with her and Daniel Sousa. Word Count: 2196

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Title: Harley Keener (and a very not-to-scale Potato Gun Mark I) Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 022 - Harley Keener Ship: None Rating: Gen Major Tags: crafts, Iron Man 3 Summary: Felt figure of Harley Keener and his potato gun from Iron Man 3.

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Title: Are we There Yet? Collaborator: tisfan Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 024 - Bleeding Edge Ship: Tony/Logan Rating: Teen Major Tags: Kidnapping, Roughed Up Summary: Tony gets kidnapped. Again. You’d really think bad guys would learn better. Word Count: 598

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Title: Fated to Telling Only Lies Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: 023 - Epilogue Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Canonical Character Deaths, canon divergence, Winter Soldier POV Summary: After his mission to eliminate the elder Stark, the Soldier is assigned to befriend the Stark heir and win him over to the cause. But there’s something about Tony Stark that just might loosen the Fist of Hydra’s grip on his goal. Word Count: 1413

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Title: Smells Like Teenage Drama Collaborator: MagicaDraconia16 Link: AO3 Square Filled: 027 - Peter Parker Ship: Tony/Rhodey/Loki/Rhodey/Strange & Peter Rating: Teen Major Tags: Teenage drama, Peter Parker is scarred for life, implied/referenced 5-way poly (as above), way too many father figures Summary: When you're a teenage superhero, it's bad enough to have one father figure, never mind two or three. Let alone five. Peter Parker would like to reiterate: he is not a child! Word Count: 2638

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Title: F.R.I.D.A.Y. I’m in Love Collaborator: eachpeachpearplum Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 023 - FRIDAY Ship: Tony & FRIDAY Rating: Gen Major Tags: music, art Summary: Tony sing as he works, and FRIDAY is just as sassy as her brother was.

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Title: An Arctic Adventure Collaborator: lemon_juices Link: AO3 Square Filled: 027 - Sight Ship: pre-Stony Rating: Gen Major Tags: merpeople AU, ocean sex Summary: Featuring Steve Rogers, a marine biologist in the middle of the Arctic Ocean. Also featuring Tony Stark, a merman who lives in the Arctic Ocean. When Steve first sets his eyes on Tony he can't stop thinking about him, and Tony can't forget about Steve. Another trip to the frigid cold ocean and let's see what happens... Word Count: 2572

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Title: Centrifugal Force Collaborator: tisfan Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 024 - Taste Ship: Teen Rating: WinterIron Major Tags: temporary amnesia, not single crying meme, alcoholism, bad coping mechanisms, playground Summary: “That sounds like one of my very bad, no good ideas,” Tony confessed.  “Usually,” the man said. Word Count: 588

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Title: It’s Only a Paper Moon - Chapter 3 Collaborator: sierranovembr Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 025 - Sound Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Depiction of a mental asylum, established relationship, Edwin Jarvis Summary: Fighting aliens alongside Captain America? A loving, supportive fiancé who overlooks the many flaws of Tony Stark? Tony often thought his life was too amazing to be real.  He might be right about that. Word Count: 1370

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Title: New Family Members Collaborator: fightingforcreativity Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 023 - FRIDAY Ship: Tony with whoever you choose Rating: Teen Major Tags: Cute, Bots, Bot Family, Tony’s army of bots Summary: Tony really shouldn’t tinker after watching a movie and running on little to no sleep. Albeit… Maybe he should do it more often. Word Count: 735

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Title: What’s in a Name? Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: 023 - FRIDAY Ship: Tony & FRIDAY Rating: Gen Major Tags: Drabble, slice of life Summary: Tony explains to his latest creation where her name came from. Word Count: 100

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Title: True Colours Collaborator: lbibliophile-mcu Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 022 - Thoughts Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: motivational poster Summary: Hold your head high, wear your colours, proud. Don’t be afraid to stand out from the crowd.

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Title: all those shadows (almost killed your light) Collaborator: dixiehellcat Link: AO3 Squares Filled: 026 - Chapter 1, Infinity Gauntlet; chapter 2, Morgan Stark; chapter 3, smell; chapter 4, alternative POV; chapter 5, PTSD Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie).  Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tony Stark Lives, the Russos whomst, idk them, back on my brand, Carol Danvers is a Good Bro, Prosthetics, Body Modification, Nightmares. Tony Stark Needs a Hug. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD Summary: Post-Endgame, Tony’s life is a healing process. Word Count: 3759

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Title: Before They Outlaw the Kiss Collaborator: ralsbecket Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 026 - Alternate POV Ship: Stony Rating: Teen Major Tags: N/A Summary: Steve must have had an awfully pained expression on his face without realizing because before he knew it, Tony was getting up from his seat beside him and extending a hand. “Dance with me,” he requested, smiling at him softly. 

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Title: Touch Collaborator: SaganaRojanaOlt Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 023 - Touch Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Art Summary: N/A Word Count: N/A

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Title: Family Reunion Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: 023 - Touch Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: Post Avengers: Infinity War, domestic fluff, ‘bot fic Summary: Tony and Pepper introduce Morgan to her older siblings. Word Count: 1071

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Title: ARC-reactor Collaborator: Menatiera Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 027 - ARC-reactor Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: arc reactor, polymer clay Summary: they’re tiny! :)

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Title: War Machine Collaborator: Fighting_for_Creativity Link: AO3 Square Filled: 023 - War Machine Ship: Tony/Rhodey Rating: Teen Major Tags: Soft, Hurt/Comfort, Rhodey POV, Tony needs a hug and gets one Summary: The whole 'acquiring a suit by any means' situation sucked big time. Good thing Rhodey knew where his loyalties ultimately lay. Also, pretending to steal something from Tony at least meant that Rhodey could spend some time with him beforehand. Word Count: 1131

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Title: War Machine Collaborator: SaganaRojanaOlt Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 023 - War Machine Ship: None Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: War Machine Art

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Title: On the watch Collaborator: Menatiera Link: AO3 Square Filled: 027 - Peter Parker Ship: Stuckony Rating: Teen Major Tags: Winter on a mission, Bucky and Winter are separate personalities, happy ending Summary: The Winter Soldier takes his missions seriously. This Mark shouldn't cause any troubles. And then he does. Word Count: 3427

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Title: Insomnia Collaborator: SaganaRojanaOlt Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 023 - Insomnia Ship: None Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: Tony Stark art

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Title: Drifting, Falling, Floating Weightless Collaborator: MagicaDraconia16 Link: AO3 Squares Filled: 027 - Image: Drift (adopted - ch1) | Nightmares (ch2) Ship: Pepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: Angst, nightmares, post Infinity War, during Endgame, mentions of panic attacks Summary: After the Battle of New York, Tony was plagued by nightmares of space. The events of the immediate aftermath of the Infinity War have not made things better. Word Count: 1476

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Title: Birth of an AI Collaborator: SaganaRojanaOlt Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 023 - FRIDAY Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art  Summary: Tony and FRIDAY art

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Title: Battery Now Included Collaborator: MagicaDraconia16 Link: AO3 Square Filled: 027 - Arc Reactor Ship: Tony & The Bots Rating: Gen Major Tags: An overabundance of bot feels? Summary: When Tony returns home from Afghanistan, the bots notice that something has changed... Word Count: 386

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Title: Sight Collaborator: Menatiera Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 027 - Sight Ship: Stuckony Rating: Gen Major Tags: retired!steve, blind!steve, happy!steve Summary: Moodboard and summary. Steve goes blind and retires - much to his boyfriends Tony’s and Bucky’s bafflement.

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Title: Happily ever after Collaborator: SaganaRojanaOlt Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 023 - Epilogue Ship: Steve/Sam Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: art of Sam and Steve

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Title: Wanna Be Somebody to Someone Collaborator: ralsbecket Link: AO3 Square Filled: 026 - MIT Years (adopted square) Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, MIT Era, Football Player Steve Rogers, Twink Tony Stark, Engineer Tony Stark, Howard Stark’s Good Parenting, TwinkTonyEvent, Crush at First Sight, One-Sided Attraction, (or so he thinks), (Steve’s an oblivious awkward doof), Dirty Thoughts, Masturbation, Hopeful Ending, unedited because we die as men Summary: Steve Rogers thought that he was fairly observant. He had to be when he was on the field; it was the sole reason he was offered a full-ride scholarship to be a tight-end for Boston University’s football team. But he learned embarrassingly quickly that his one blind spot involved a lanky-limbed, spectacle-wearing, tousle-haired brunet. Word Count: 2573

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Title: Heart of Iron - the movie night Collaborator: Menatiera Link: AO3 Square Filled: 027 - Director commentary Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: heart of iron - the documentary, the stark family watches the documentary about tony together, peter parker pov, endgame fix-it, retired tony stark Summary: “You must be kidding me,” Peter said. It’s not like he wasn’t willing to sacrifice himself in many ways for the greater good (which in this case meant the happiness of his chosen people), but he figured there should be a line to draw in the sand even in that regard. Tony apparently wasn’t on the same page, because he raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Either this or you can watch Trolls with Morgan again; it’s your choice.” Word Count: 4250

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Title: Reveal on skin Collaborator: Menatiera Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 027 - Nightmares Ship: Stuckony Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard, cursed!tony Summary: Moodboard and summary. Villain of the Week casts a curse on Tony to “reveal his true nature on his skin”. Instead of horrors, though, Tony’s hands start to resemble the night sky with thousands of stars.

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Title: Rock-a-bye Tony Collaborator: lbibliophile-mcu Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 022 - Rescue Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Gen Major Tags: edit Summary: Tony crash-lands, and Rhodey is no help at all. “Rock-a-bye Tony in the tree tops…”