#only for it to turn out stupidly simple. but 5 has been doing a pretty good job of setting up plot threads within each protagonists chapte

[gigginox]

im liking the plot way better than y4 or 3 and i think its bc they 1) figured out how to do the multiple protagonists thing much better than in 4 and 2) theyre coming close to the high drama they had in 1 and 2 that i really enjoyed

[choke-me-joey]

Matching Tattoos Part II

Read Part I here

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smutty smutty smut smut, just porn with a little bit of plot, oral (f receiving), squirting, unprotected sex (kinda), creampie, these two are adorable as fuck, less tattoos more fuckin', fluffy throughout, idiots in love, (will format later cos on a phone it's a pain in the ass)

It had been a week since the tattoo incident. And the blowjob incident. And the whole "You get to keep me" thing.

And both you and Eddie were on Cloud 9.

It was impossible to miss, not only because you were all over each other, but even when you were across the room from each other, you couldn't stop sneaking glances and smiles.

"God, you're both gross." Robin groans, rolling her eyes as you lean over the counter of the video store to smile at Eddie as he browses the horror section waiting for you to finish your shift the following Friday night. Steve yanks you back by the waist of your jeans.

"Agreed. Can you stop making googly eyes at your boyfriend for 5 minutes, Y/N? The rom com section needs reorganising." He grumbles, sitting down and stuffing a Twizzler in his mouth.

"And you can't do it because...?" You snip, folding your arms over your chest and looking him up and down.

He gestures to himself as if to say "duh!" and you kick his chair.

"Oh come on Steve, it's her big night tonight, let the girl relax a little." smirks Robin and you glance at her, wide eyed, making short choppy motions over your neck in an attempt get her to shut the fuck up.

"Seriously?! Jeez, I thought you and Munson were already banging, didn't know you were waiting. What's the special occasion?" Steve asks through a mouthful of candy. Robin scoffs and shoves him.

"It's a Friday night and Eddie's uncle is working a double tonight meaning we can be uninterrupted." You shrug. "Not all of us bang on the first date, Steve."

"No, some of us just suck di-"

"What's up Harrington, Buckley?" Eddie grins, meandering over to the counter with a few tapes in his hands. He grins at you, placing the tapes down onto the counter. "Hey, babe."

"Babe?!" Robin and Steve audibly gag as you and Eddie share a simple, sweet kiss. Without breaking the kiss, you flip your friends off.

"So gross." complains Steve as you and Eddie break apart, grinning like fools. "Do you have to rub your new perfect relationship in the faces of the painfully single?"

"What's the matter, Harrington? Jealous that the freak of Hawkins has a smokin' hot babe and you don't?" Eddie teases. "Don't worry, big boy, we'll hook you up with someone."

"Fuck off." Steve grumbles. He looks at you. "You know your shift doesn't end for another 3 hours, and the rom com section still needs reorganising."

"Ugh fine, let me check Eddie out first." You huff, turning to your stupidly handsome boyfriend.

"Didn't you do that enough whilst I was perusing, babe?" He smirks.

"Not enough if you ask me." You deliberately run your eyes over him slowly, biting your lip.

"Fuck, I can't wait for tonight." Eddie groans to you quietly, reaching for your hand and squeezing it.

"Me neither." You whisper, squeezing back. You shuffle through the tapes. "Did you pick out some decent movies we won't be watching?"

"Only the best babe, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw, A Nightmare on Elm Street and The Thing. Classics that I know you've seen so you won't be too mad about missing parts."

"You're the best." You grin, pecking his lips again before proceeding to check him out. In the professional sense.

And a little bit more in the non-professional sense.

"Thanks, sweetheart. I'll pick you up at 7, okay?"

"Sounds perfect, stud."

*

7pm rolls around and you can't clock out quick enough, barely garbling out a goodbye to Steve and Robin.

"Use protection!" Robin calls, and you flip her off before you're out the door and diving into Eddie's van.

Your boyfriend chuckles at your eagerness as he leans over the console to kiss you.

"There's my pretty baby, how was the rest of your shift?"

"Excruciating, agony, torture."

"Sounds like a good time." Eddie grins, pulling out of the strip mall parking lot and beginning the 10 minute drive to his trailer. His hand leaves the gearstick and finds your thigh, resting on it. "I missed you, sweetheart."

"I missed you too," you smile, squeezing his hand. "Get up to anything good whilst I was gone?"

"You'll see," Eddie smirks, linking his fingers through yours and bringing your hair to his lips and kissing it.

When you pull up to the trailer, Eddie insists on opening your door for you, helping you out of the van and even holding the trailer door open with a little bow and a "m'lady". You laugh, curtseying and replying "kind sir" before stepping into the trailer.

You stop in your tracks. The trailer is the cleanest you'd ever seen it in all the years of knowing Eddie and his uncle. There isn't an ash tray, beer bottle or empty coffee cup to be seen. On the counter there's a small bunch of flowers in a mason jar full of water - you noted that they looked extremely similar to the wildflowers you'd been admiring on yours and Eddie's 'special smoking walk' you'd taken last weekend. And instead of the usual 'Munson' scent that hits you, you get a waft of...crisp apple?

"Eddie did you...did you light a candle? Did you buy a candle??"

"I may have." Eddie leans against the cabinets with his arms folded across his chest, smiling. "Had to make an effort for you, princess."

"You absolutely did not, but I'm appreciative nonetheless. Does the cleanliness extend to your bedroom, or...?"

"Already wanting to take this to the bedroom, huh?" He smirks, letting you drag him by the hand down the small hallway. You open his bedroom door, gasping at the sight in front of you. Eddie stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder as you take it all in.

Eddie's room was SPOTLESS. Every single piece of clothing was picked up off the floor and in the laundry hamper, the tops of his dressers and bedside table were immaculate, the bedsheets were...Holy shit, they were new. And he actually had two pillows laid out instead of one deformed lump in the middle of his bed. And an actual comforter.

"Holy shit." You breathe out a laugh of disbelief, and Eddie chuckles into your shoulder, peppering kisses over it and up your neck to your cheek. "You have been busy."

"Wanted to make tonight special." Eddie mumbles against your skin, making you hum softly.

"You didn't need to, babe. I'd fuck you in the back of your van parked up on the side of the road. I don't care where we are as long as we're together."

Eddie's eyes widen. "We are going to have to explore that at a later time. For now though..." he spins you around in his arms and walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit his bed, causing you to fall down. He kicks the door shut behind him and presses play on his tape deck, Home Sweet Home by Motley Crüe starting up.

You sit on the bed giggling as Eddie begins to serenade you along with Vince Neil.

"...take me to your heart, feel me in your bones, just one more night, and I'm coming off this long and winding road" Eddie croons, slowly walking over to you and standing in front of you. "I'm on my way, I'm on my way, home sweet home, tonight- woah!"

You interrupt him by pulling him by his belt loops closer to you, he loses his balance and falls on top of you, both of you laughing like idiots. Eddie pushes himself up onto his arms, smiling down at you.

"What?" You smile, feeling a blush creep over your cheeks. He reaches and brushes some hair away from your face.

"Nothing, you're just...really fucking beautiful." He says softly. You pout at how cute he is, reaching up to kiss his lips.

"So are you." You reply, and he scoffs playfully. "Eddie?"

"Hmm?"

"Kiss me."

He does, kissing you slowly and deep. You moan as his tongue finds its way into your mouth, revelling in the taste of him. The kisses get deeper, wetter, nastier and your bodies start to grind against one another as you paw at each other.

"What-what about the movies?" Eddie pants into your mouth as you tug at the hem of his shirt, trying to get it off.

"Fuck the movies, seen 'em before anyway." You tug harder at this shirt. "Off."

"Yes ma'am." Eddie chuckles, sitting up and stripping off his shirt. Yours quickly follows, as well as both of your jeans, leaving you in your underwear. You bite your lip at the sight of Eddie's cock straining against his plaid boxers. You both scooch further up the bed, Eddie lying you down on the new, plump pillows, before laying his body against yours once more, his mouth finding yours again.

You rock your hips experimentally against his, the thin material of your underwear and his not doing much to dull the sensation. Eddie moans loudly into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sound, his moans were something you'd missed since last weekend, but had definitely replayed in your head when you'd fucked yourself with your fingers throughout the week.

"Easy, princess, you keep doing that and I'm gonna need a breather." Eddie mumbles, trailing his lips over your jaw and neck, sucking gently on your collarbone. "Besides..." he pings your bra strap. "I'm dyin' to get this off you."

You laugh, unclasping your bra and allowing your breasts to spill free.

Eddie curses, his eyes going straight to your tits. He cups them in his hands, thumbs ghosting over your nipples.

"Hello, ladies." He mumbles and your laugh is quickly replaced by a gasp as Eddie leans down and licks over your nipple, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You whine, the flicks of his tongue sending spikes of arousal straight to your cunt. "Fuck, your tits are perfect." Eddie breathes against your skin, leaving a damp trail across your chest as he moves to the other one, rolling your neglected nipple between his fingers. He gives you a little pinch, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Eddie, please!" You whimper, desperately trying to grind your clothed pussy against his cock, needing any sort of friction to ease the ache between your legs.

"Ah, ah, ah, baby, calm down. I'll take care of you, okay? Just enjoying myself right now. And I know you are too, can feel you soaking through those pretty little panties already." You make another pathetic whining noise. "I didn't peg you for a whiner, baby, it's pretty hot how desperate you are for me right now. Makes a change from all that sass you normally give me."

"Eddie, I swear to God-"

Eddie cups your pussy over your underwear, making you promptly shut up. He smirks, teasing you by gently running his fingers over your covered slit.

"Oh, baby, these panties are definitely ruined now. Guess I'll just have to keep them. You're soaked...is this all for me?"

"All for you, Eds," you gasp as he ghosts over your swollen clit. Your hips buck. "Please, Eddie, hurts."

"Aw, it hurts? Well, I can't have my baby in pain, now can I? Especially not after she did such a good job of taking care of me last weekend." Eddie practically rips off your underwear, his eyes travelling over your fully naked body for the first time. "Holy shit, baby...you're blowing my mind with how sexy you are. Hiding this body from me...should be a federal crime." He kisses you again, soft and sweet, then moves downward, pecking at your neck, shoulders, collarbones, inbetween your breasts and down onto your stomach. He chuckles as he kisses around your still healing tattoo. "Nice ink, toots."

"Thanks, some DnD nerd gave it to m-E!" Your sarky response quickly turns into a high pitched moan as Eddie nips your inner thigh.

"Some DnD nerd, huh? Would it be the same DnD nerd who's currently looking at the prettiest fucking pussy he's ever seen? Look at her baby, she's fucking drooling for me. Wonder if she tastes as sweet as she looks?"

Your hands ball into fists, twisting the comforter in your grip as Eddie licks a fat strip from your hole to your clit, leaving a trail of spit as he goes. You look down at the same second as he looks up at you, his eyes practically black with lust. The sight of him between your legs, your juices on his mouth is almost enough to send you over the edge as it is. Eddie grins at you again. "Even sweeter than she looks, baby."

You collapse back onto the pillows as Eddie dives face first into your pussy, tongue flicking and licking at your clit as he eats you like a man starved. He moans into you as you cry out his name, one of your hands reaching for his hair.

Without moving his mouth from your clit, he flicks his eyes up to you, holding up two of his fingers to your mouth. You open your mouth, sucking on his fingers as if they were his dick, hollowing out your cheeks and getting them as wet as possible (not that you needed any more lubrication, Eddie just had a thing for any part of him in your mouth). Once he's satisfied that you have them as wet as possible, he removes them from your mouth and wastes no time pushing them inside your aching cunt.

Your back arches upwards as you gasp out his name, his thick fingers filling you and his skilled tongue on your sensitive bundle of nerves making your eyes roll back in your skull. When he crooks his fingers up and strokes over that spongy spot on your walls, your thighs clamp around his head and he smirks against you, knowing he's definitely found the right spot.

"Eddie, fuck, don't stop, gunna make me cum," you whine. He sucks on your clit, his eyes on you and he strokes and strokes - "Oh my god, Eddie! Yes, baby, I'm cumming!"

A string of expletives leaves your lips, along with his name in a shriek as you cream on his face, your thighs shaking. He doesn't relent, finger fucking you through your orgasm and when you try to pull away when things become too sensitive, his other free hand pins your hips down to the bed. You're moaning uncontrollably, almost weeping with pleasure, the stimulation too much. "Eddie, I cant-"

His head suddenly pulls away from you and your hips try to chase his mouth. "You want me to fuck you?"

"W-what?" You ask, breathless and still a bit dumb from how hard your previous orgasm had hit you. "Y-yes, I want you to fuck me-"

"Then give me another." Eddie spanks your clit, making you squeal. "I know you've got one in there for me princess, cum again for me and I'll fuck you, okay?"

"Okay, okay," you sob, nodding. You almost choke as Eddie attaches his lips back to your clit and his fingers start fucking you again. The rate at which your orgasm builds up again is alarming; it's different. "Eddie, wait, wait, wait-"

He does anything but wait, in fact he pushes his fingers against your spot harder, and moves his tongue quicker. You feel it hit you, a white hot wave of pleasure and you definitely feel something shoot out of you. Eddie groans loudly, the lewd squelching noises filling the room as your body shakes.

You squirted. You fucking squirted. Something you'd only ever seen on those nasty pornos that Harrington lent Eddie from time to time. Something you didn't think you could actually do. And Eddie made you do it.

Eddie slows his movements down, removing his fingers from your twitching cunt and sucking them clean. His chin and neck are drenched with you and it's the sexiest thing you've ever seen.

"Still with me, angel?" He asks softly, pulling himself up over you again. You notice the wet patch on the front of his boxers has doubled in size since he went down on you.

"Where the fuck did you learn that?!" You manage to gasp out and Eddie chuckles.

"Natural talent baby. And Harrington's pornos he sneaks home from the video store. Not just for jerking off to, ya know, there's some educational shit in there too."

"Ugh, forget I asked." You mumble in disgust. Eddie laughs, but soon stops when you palm the front of his boxers, squeezing his cock. "I want this now, please, you promised."

"I did, didn't I baby?" Eddie reaches over into his bedside drawer for the box of rubbers he had in there. You slap his hand away and he looks at you in confusion.

"No condom, wanna feel you, Eds."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that to me." Eddie groans. "You're on the pill, right?"

"No, Eddie, I'm willing to risk pregnancy to satisfy a breeding kink." You quip, rolling your eyes.

"You're lucky I love you so damn much, baby. Wouldn't let just anyone talk back to me like you do." Eddie mock huffs, shutting his drawer. You freeze. He then realises what he's said, and screws his eyes shut, dropping his head down. "Shit."

"You...love me?" You whisper, unable to stop the stupid grin spreading across your face. Eddie buries his face into your neck, groaning in embarrassment. "Eddie." You place your hands either side of his flushed face and make him look at you. "I love you too."

He opens his eyes and looks at you, his face softening.

"You do?"

"So damn much." You echo his words from seconds earlier. He grins, kissing you hard. You both manage to peel off his boxers and he grinds his cock against your wet pussy lips, teasingly dipping the head into your hole and pulling out. "Eddieee..."

"Say it again." He whispers against your lips, taking a hold of himself and lining his cock up with your hole.

"I love you." You whisper. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He replies, pushing his cock into you slowly. The stretch makes you shiver; he's definitely thicker and longer than anyone you'd ever been with. "Fuck, sweetheart, you're so...so fucking tight."

"Mm, Eddie, s'big," you mewl beneath him, nails biting into his shoulder blades.

"I know angel, but you're taking me so well. God, you look perfect right now."

You kiss him in response, moaning against him as he eventually bottoms out, his thick mushroom head already prodding your cervix. He starts to move slowly, pulling away from your mouth to look deep into your eyes. "So fucking beautiful."

"You too."

Eddie starts to move quicker, never taking his eyes from yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper and the new angle making you cry out his name. This only spurs him on, his cock delving deeper and deeper into your pussy, the bed beginning to rock back and forth with his movements. Your moans fill the small room, along with Eddie's grunts and whispered praises to you.

"S'fucking good, baby, your pussy is fucking heaven, my beautiful baby, I love you, I love you."

"Eddie, I'm gonna cum again," you breathe out; his pelvis dragging over your clit had started building up another mind blowing orgasm.

"Yeah? Do it baby, wanna feel you cum for me, right on my cock, yeah?" Eddie's short of breath now, you can tell he's holding off his own orgasm just to feel yours first. "Oh shit, sweetheart, please, you're so fucking tight, gonna make me cum-"

"Cum with me, Eddie, fill me up-"

"Christ, I'm gonna cum, fuck, fuck-"

Eddie pushes his cock in to the hilt just as the coil in your belly snaps and you cum around him, both of you groaning out each other's names. His cock twitching inside you and the feel of his hot load filling you makes you sob in pleasure. He finds your mouth with his own, staying inside you for as long as he can, neither one of you wanting to break the connection just yet.

Eventually, his cock slips from you and you both let out mournful sighs. He rolls off of you, onto his back next to you.

"Holy shit." He pants, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. "Holy fucking shit. Baby...that was-"

"The best sex you've ever had?" You grin, a teasing lilt to your voice. "Me too."

"Shit, yeah, you've ruined me for other women now." Eddie grins as you both roll on to your sides, looking at each other. You giggle, your fingers ghosting over the nearly healed tattoo on his hip.

"Baby, I've left my mark on you, no way other women are having you now."

He mimics you, gently touching the bat inked onto your skin.

"Guess matching tattoos were a good idea then."

Taglist for those who wanted a part 2:

@certain-tragedies @teary-eyed-egg @lulukings92 @elyssa-writes @spear-bearing-bi-witch @littlestarfighter03 @ooo-protean-ooo @wintermunsonreads @witchofhawkins @johntuckermustdie

[deltaengineering]

Spring Anime 2024: A Wizard is never late

Shuumatsu Train Doko e Iku (Train to the End of the World)

If you want a reason for why this post is woefully late, it’s this show: since we’re going in ascending order of quality here, it must come first, yet I have a hard time saying anything about it. I suppose I can start with the most obvious problem: I will probably watch your original anime, but I do that to get away from light novel levels of insufferable dialogue. Yet this one definitely goes with the NisioisiN school of writing, which is to say, talk a lot first, then figure out a point at your convenience. This definitely doesn’t endear the show to me and makes it mildly annoying right from the start, but it could still be salvageable - but then Shuumatsu Train just turns out to be not particularly good at any of its selling points. For a weird show it’s not weird enough. For a comedy it’s not funny enough. For a character drama the characters are too superficial. For a profound allegory, it's much too vague. And even though the parts are hardly stellar, the result somehow still ends up as less than the sum of them. It‘s not a total write-off since at least there is some ambition here, but I really can’t say that being more meaningful than not at all is enough of a payoff for something that is mostly just basic attempts at wacky humor presented in an annoying fashion. 4/10

Yuru Camp S3

So, speaking of ambition. My last contact with Yuru Camp was me getting very mad at S2‘s incessant products and services shilling. Admittedly S3 turns this down to an acceptable level, but that only makes the deeper issue more apparent: Yuru Camp is and has always been astonishingly vapid, and three seasons and a movie in all the vibes in the world can no longer make up for it. I won’t even complain that the show is no longer about camping in any meaningful capacity (since I never cared and at least the local-tourism-and-food lane we‘re in now doesn’t require purchase of specialized gear), but godammit if personality-free blobs looking at small footbridges for three episodes didn’t kill my enthusiasm for any of this mush. It‘s still broadly inoffensive, but at this point I feel like I’ve thoroughly exhausted anything this show is ever willing to offer. And Yama no Susume shows that you can have all the theoretical positives of a Yuru Camp with compelling enough characters, so there’s really no excuse. 5/10

Yoru no Kurage wa Oyogenai (Jellyfish Can't Swim in the Night)

I don’t know where this recent trend of cute but reasonably serious girl band anime came from (I would like to think MyGO, but more likely it‘s Bocchi the Rock + the most blatantly obvious and viable way to improve on Bocchi). But here is Jellyfish and uh… it certainly makes an attempt. The first impression is very positive, since Doga Kobo provides pleasant visuals (per usual), but it quickly becomes apparent that it’s the writing that is really holding this one back. It’s not even bad ideas or a lack of ideas, since the concepts this show wants to tackle are generally quite good. But pretty much every execution on those plot ideas is botched in some way, be it by resolving them in a stupidly simple way (impostor syndrome? just do your best!) or by just having a character read out their character arc really dramatically. A bunch of plot points don't even make sense when you look at them in context of the ostensibly real world this show takes place in, and the ending is a massive nothingburger. It's all stuff that's barely passable when something like Love Live does it, but in something that aims higher it seems like a first draft at best and more likely just extremely amateurish. One can only wonder if you gave such a concept to a seasoned veteran like Jukki Hanada... 6/10

Tonari no Youkai-san

Tonari no Youkai-san started out as a rather simple show that I really liked: a mostly but not exclusively lighthearted depiction of a world where Youkai are real and the weird situations that can create, with likeable characters carrying it along. But then it became apparent that what it really wants to do is back-to-back KEY-style sadpiano scenarios. While those aren't bad in moderate amounts, the fact that every scenario now had to be about some heartbreaking backstory no matter what quickly became rather tiring. And then, if it wasn't apparent enough that this show was writing itself into the weeds, it capped the season off with a completely bizarre sci-fi multiverse action arc where everyone dies (very sad!) but then comes back alive because power of friendship beats entropy or something. Well, at least I prefer laughing at this nonsense to being annoyed at contrived tearjerkers, I suppose. I wouldn't call it quality though. 6/10

Dungeon Meshi (Delicious in Dungeon)

When the Dungeon Meshi started, I just didn't get it. The hyperbole around this show (mostly coming from manga fans, I think) was clearly not befitting a very mediocre gimmick anime where even the gimmick had been done better elsewhere multiple times. I do have to admit that as it went on, I could start to see where people were coming from: Once the cooking dies down a bit, the characters start to develop a bit and it finds its pace, Dungeon Meshi's "default mode" is an entertaining adventure anime with some nice characters, decent humor and engaging action. So far so good. However, I'll still call the show merely above average because it's in its default mode less often than you'd think. Every time I started to like something, Dungeon Meshi immediately had to head off in some random other direction that I don't care for: The cooking I did not care for in the beginning becomes vestigial but never stops taking up airtime nonetheless. The nerdy exposition about dungeon mechanics should not merit more than a footnote in a splatbook, but never stops taking up a lot of airtime nonetheless (it's also a painful reminder of the "worldbuilding over narrative" nonsense that I hate, but Dungeon Meshi isn't the worst offender here so I'll let it slide). The show expects me to care about other, far less interesting parties after I just barely mustered up enough enthusiasm to see Chilchuck as more than a spare Marcille when Marcille can't play the tsukkomi herself. Falin turns into a tragic zombie chicken. They adopt an annoying cat. It goes on and on and I'm not thrilled. I will admit though that I will likely still watch the sequel, mostly because Trigger really does a fantastic job with this adaptation on all levels, which at the very least manages to keep it watchable even in the doldrums. I just wish the source material was more consistent. 6/10

Kaiju No. 8

Every season there's some random anime that isn't particularly great, but still competent enough to merit a watch. It's usually some light comedy like Torture Princess, but every once in a while it's something else. This season it's Isekai QC, but in spring it was something even less likely: Kaiju #8, a Jump-brand premium shounen. Yeah, that's a surprise. It just doesn't do anything particularly wrong, apart from the genre staples that it must do wrong: The pacing is bad, but just regular bad. The tone is all over the place, but just regular all over the place. The protagonist isn't as good as he first seems, but not as bad as he could be either. It starts out as "less miserable Attack on Titan where people shoot at huge monsters with guns at shounen powerlevel efficiency", which is extremely awkward, but eventually it settles into a more standard "hit bad guy with sick special attacks" groove, which isn't exactly exciting but at least clearly something the show wants to be. In short, nothing special but the bullshit does not exceed the maximum level I will tolerate as the price of entry to epic dudes epically fighting in an epic fashion. There always is a point with these where you have to ruthlessly cut your losses, but it did not reach it in its first season when the average genremate reaches it within the first episode. That's... something. 6/10

Nijiyon S2

I wasn't even going to write about this because what is there to say about Nijiyon, except that Nijiyon is that rare mini spinoff that actually gets better and starts to outshine the main show at points. Half the time. The other half is still very basic and very arbitrary 4koma hijinks, but an improvement is an improvement. 6/10

Bartender: Glass of God

Why did they make a second Bartender anime in 2024? I can't answer this conclusively but I will say that if Suntory didn't pay for at least half of this production, they got something for free. With that out of the way, the most interesting thing I can say about Bartender is how it compares to Gin & Sonic '06. The old one was certainly ambitious, but in a rather obvious way: Treating the Bartender mystique as somthing close to supernatural and presenting it in a very abstract and stagey way. This is great when it works, but just as often merely comes off as extremely pretentious. The new one... just doesn't do any of that. It's a very straightforward, simple story with actual characters and stuff. It's workable enough with some stronger and some weaker episodes, and even though it does not even attempt to reach the highs of the old one, it doesn't sniff its own farts and does its best to avoid the old man machismo stank that faintly polluted the first adaptation. So I will actually call it better in some ways, maybe even on average, but it still can't compete with a show that had a better reason to exist than to get you excited for Yamazaki whiskey. 6/10

Euphonium S3

I've had my ups and downs with Yoof, and I will say that while some nags remain, I am satisfied with how it managed to (hopefully) wrap up. In fact, S3 might be the best the show has ever been. We were never going to get the cartoonish and quite frankly more entertaining presentation of S1 back, but for what it's worth, S3 takes the overcooked presentation and histrionic character writing of S2 and brings them down to a palatable level, and that makes it at least worth thinking about. Another big point in its favor is that it's now finally truly the Kumiko show, and not just the Kumiko stumbles into other people's drama show. Cast additions like Kanade and Mayu are prety great as well so yeah, I had a good time. Really my biggest complaint is that S3 might actually be a little too good at character drama, because at one point it seemed it was on the verge of starting to question a few of its core assumptions. I never expected it to have doubts over whether letting your school club control your entire existence is in fact a good thing, but ideas like Reina actually being as insane as she comes across and that Taki actually being as terrible as a teacher as he comes across seemed extremely promising. But nah, of course Kumiko just had to be honest with herself, that solved all the problems and then the show just coasted to the most predictable ending imaginable. Euphonium always seemed like it could be way better with a bit more risk-taking, but this was a particularly disappointing moment for the show to be itself. Anyway, if you just expect Euphoinum you're getting the good Euphonium here. 7/10

Girls Band Cry

So, about that "Hanada writing Jellyfish" quip I made earlier? What if that actually happened, in the same season no less? Yeah, these two shows are shockingly similar but unlike Jellyfsh, Girls Band Cry does things right... for the most part. You need to get used to the somewhat janky CG animation, but you're getting some great expressiveness in the deal so that's no problem. You'll also have to put up with Hanada's trademark yuribaiting, a pretty weak ending (as if these two shows didn't already copy each other's homework enough) and music that is much too obvously coming from the Vocaloid camp for my liking. Apart from that, GBC is very good. Not quite as good as MyGO (which has even better character dynamics and I still can't get past how shockingly high its quality is for a franchise anime), but it's really close. So close in fact that I don't even feel like pointing out in detail why GBC is good, because it really is MyGO again: Very flawed yet likeable girls try to get their mental in order while swinging between goofy and depressed and occasionally making music. It's not complicated, but when the character writing delivers (i.e., by seasoned pros like Yuniko Ayana or Jukki Hanada), it just works. If this is a trend now, I'll gladly take it. 8/10

[blouisparadise]

There were some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of January. We really hope you enjoy this list and show these fics love. Happy reading!

1) Ready For A War | Explicit | 1000 words

Harry was so close to getting caught, and it was all on that stupidly pretty cocktail waiter.

2) Face Down Ass Up | Not Rated | 1129 words

Louis is a brat, he gets what he deserves.

3) Out Of My System | Not Rated | 1702 words

There is no summary. Read the tags.

4) Gasoline In Your Perfume | Teen & Up | 2461 words

Harry invites Louis to come over for dinner on Christmas Eve, which just happens to be Louis’ birthday. They’ve been dating for a while now, with no labels attached. In unison, they grow even closer.

5) I Hope You Choke (On Those Words) | Explicit | 2978 words

Harry Styles had been head of security for concert venues for over eight years. Never in his career had he seen a musician as reckless when it came to personal safety as Louis Tomlinson.

After making his job a living nightmare, Harry decided he needs to talk some sense into Louis.

If only there were some way to shut him up.

6) You're So Vain | Mature | 3643 words

Louis is dragged to a party. He only agrees to go on the condition that his ex-boyfriend won’t be there. But Harry Styles makes an appearance at the party after all. Inspired by Carly Simon’s ‘You’re So Vain’.

7) Positive Feedback | Teen & Up | 4095 words

Louis pretends he isn’t insecure about his nest, Harry pretends he isn’t inconveniently horny, and they both see right through each other.

8) Devoted | Explicit | 5530 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Alisson Becker.

A collection of drabbles about Louis’ life as the housewife of a professional football player.

9) But I Want iI (It's A Crime) | Explicit | 6630 words

Harry is hired to kill Louis. Louis thinks he's an idiot. They fuck.

10) The Mall | Explicit | 9353 words

Harry loves to conquer babies. Loves to shower them with gifts. And he loves to get what he wants after all.

11) Behind Closed Doors | Explicit | 10334 words

 Louis finds a sock on alpha Harry's door handle that causes a big misunderstanding but is also the beginning of something new.

12) Always A Hunger (Now It's Just Emptiness) | Mature | 16181 words

Harry's life gets turned upside down from a night that he thought was simple one night stand. Nothing could have prepared him for his mundane world to be turned on it's axis.

13) The Hating Factor | Explicit | 18768 words

Growing up you're either fond of something or you loathe their very existence, Louis had both.

He was quite fond of his neighbour, Alex Styles with smart green eyes, black hair and a charming smile that wiggled its way in Louis' life making a spot in his six year old self.

But then comes the loathe of his existence in the form of the devil's spawn itself, Harry motherfucking Styles.

14) A Day At The Game | Explicit | 20804 words

Alpha Harry and Omega Louis get caught on a kiss cam. They're not a couple.

15) Invisible String | Explicit | 84911 words

Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car.

This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on.

For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Yes <3

But also probably not. The? Worst.

One of the worst for sure, but at least he won't huuurt him? On purpose, anyways. There's no value in it, there's arguably negative value in it actually, considering he already has his full trust and no reason to experiment on him

I can only see him possibly directly harming Kakashi for two reasons:

- Orochimaru wants to figure out how the jutsu turned Kakashi younger, possibly for his own immortality quest (but to avoid this Im just gonna say he then decides not to bc the memory erasing instantly cancels out any usefulness to him. What's the point of staying young forever if you can't remember shit ab your future self? That's not what he wants)

He'll probably still poke and prod him out of curiosity but like there's no dissection happening. And it's SO much nicer and easier to have a happily compliant to some blood tests kid Kakashi than a Kakashi who's been drugged up and injured trying to fight back to those same simple blood tests

- Or Orochimaru, in his admittedly at times VERY unstable mental state lashing out without care or real thought of consequences

VERY possible but also playing into the specific dynamic I'm picturing between them, Orochimaru would try very hard to avoid this not just because of the logical "this kid likes and trusts me and making him not will make everything SO much harder when rn it's stupidly easy" but also bc Orochimaru is kind of going through some subtle nostalgia on his end

The subtle nostalgia of a kid he used to babysit, who was the child of a friend of his friend (one of the very few friends that Orochimaru never had to face after he betrayed Konoha, and so a friend that lives on in memory as loyal and good to him) + the amusement of just. A tiny kid Kakashi being a total menace but trusting him implicitly while still feeling comfortable enough to sometimes talk back.

That's an actual child just. Comfortably existing around Orochimaru. He lets Orochimaru, the dreaded snake sanin, known for having a killing intent that can paralize just about anyone, pick him up and drag him around like a purse dog. Do you know how incredibly funny that is to Oro? Bc it's fucking hilarious actually, and he's getting a kick out of using this to fuck with people somehow

But yeah Orochimaru is unstable and shady as FUCK but he has multiple motivations, both logical and emotional (though he probably won't admit the emotional even to himself) to not harm Kakashi. So Kakashi will probably be fine— to an extent anyways

Also Kakashi's presence is also totally helping distract Orochimaru from that whole "going off the deep end" thing. He's like a therapy dog! A really deadly, confused therapy dog who misses his father and will bite anyone who touches him if their name isn't Orochimaru or Tsunade

(Somewhere, someone is sending Tsunade a VERY rushed and desperate letter that they pretty please need her back ASAP this isn't a joke and it's not ab the Hokage thing I promise just PLEASE come back)

(Tsunade is throwing it into the fire without reading it.)

Ok so rewinding a bit to when Kakashi first gets de-aged. He's confused and scared and the Hokage, not wanting to confuse and fighter him more, decides yk what? No one tell him his dad is dead. We aren't doing that.

This is arguably a good choice tbh, like, yeah. Don't tell the emotional 5 year old alarmingly talented shinobi kid who's was on track to graduate to chunin next fucking year that his dad's dead. It won't result in anything good.

Instead, Sarutobi tells him that his dad is out on a super special top secret mission rn, very last minute, very important. Also: very plausible!

Everyone gives themselves a pat on the back and Kakashi calms down a bit and they now try to figure out where to put him (they can't put him back in his clan compound or he'll automatically know snthns wrong)

Thinking they pass him off to Gai maybe?

Anyways: Oro gets him and then learns that they didn't actually tell him about his dad.

So of course he'll be kind enough to fix that <3

All that is to say, Orochimaru tells Kakashi about the suicide of his father and frames it as being the villages fault. The village killed your poor father, don't you know? Just because they decided he wasn't good enough for them... so sad, so sad.

And Oro, sensing a new big fish to chase and political plot to play with, having already been discarded by Akatsuki and Konoha, deciding yk what? New game actually :)

And he goes ahead and draws the connection between Sakumo's death bc of the village to the Uchiha's death to the village.

And Sasuke uhhh. Demands to know what the actual fuck he's talking about.

Oro shrugs, makes some implications, doesn't say he knows for a FACT Itachi was blackmailed into it, but yk... he always thought things didn't really add up... and it'd be SO like Danzo and his own sensei to pull that sort of thing 💅

Sasuke is having the worst time of his life thanks

Kakashi is also imprinting on Sasuke HARD. Especially after the reveal of his father's death and orochimaru's careful steering to make him identify with Sasuke (and vice versa, Sasuke with Kakashi)

Sasuke no longer needing Orochimaru for that whole "get strong enough to kill my brother" thing is now made to linger in sound due to a mix of being attached to Kakashi (while knowing he won't be able to get him to leave Orochimaru without a lot of groundwork) + maybe lingering plots for whatever Orochimaru has in store? Like, Oro can feed him a revenge plan on Konoha or whatever, and he sticks around for that

Idk but Sasuke is going through it

Kakashi meanwhile, projecting a lot and also absoloutley going through it, is stalking Sasuke through the halls of Sound. He's his little shadow and Sasuke can not get rid of him no matter how hard he tries— it's kind of impressive

Sasuke teaching Kakashi to do chidori again,,

OH ALSO Orochimaru totally also just. Told Kakashi ab the truth of him being de aged. Probably conveniently left out a few details, but Oro is going the route of "I haven't done anything bad to him as an adult and suffer no losses by telling him the truth, but it might bite me in the ass if I lie to him (especially after weaponizing the fact that the Hokage lied) so I'll just tell him the truth of it"

Highly effective! Kakashi is now even more trustful of him!

I want a bit where Orochimaru goes to give a curse mark to Kakashi, just like Sasuke's. And Kakashi, trusting him, just kinda sits and waits patiently for him to do it. But as Orochimaru leans in to do just that, he stops. And he hesitates.

And us, the audience, know he's thinking about Sakumo. About a dead man he once called a friend.

And he pulls back and pats Kakashi on the head and says that you know what? Actually, he has a different idea.

Anyways, Orochimaru giving Kakashi a fake curse mark, for appearances sake. Can't let people know he might really be going soft! Or,, whatever happening there. It's a really complicated topic actually and he's still kind of visibly, violently swinging between moods of insanity

If I were to write this fr, I think it'd be fun to leave that scene intentionally vague. The audience gets to see the lead up of Orochimaru leaning in to give a willing Kakashi a curse mark, then the aftermath of Sasuke losing his shit over it.

But then chapters later, when Kakashi had presumably left the caves of Sound w Sasuke, Karin is poking at his curse mark and reveals that it's a dud.

Just like really bring up those fun complex morally grey themes and "did Orochimaru,, actually care? Is he even capable of that?"

(Sasuke and basically everyone else except maybe Kabuto has been convinced Orochimaru was purley playing pretend w Kakashi)

It doesn't like redeem him or anything, but it just adds that complex spin of like, he's still a person. An awful, deeply disturbed person, but still a person. We all are. And also Kakashi can continue to have his own really weird trust in Oro bc he truly never hurt him. But that unfortunatley doesn't make him good, it just makes Kakashi an outlier.

I'm honestly just having fun thinking about balancing Orochimaru as he nears / exists in the heights of his insanity at this point of naruto, with the objectively good parent we see in Boruto. And just how being around a child he's fond of, who's the child of one of the only men he's ever been able to call a true friend, might affect / bring out those sides of his.

Awful awful man, I'm so fascinated by him. I want to put him in a blender and see what color smoothie would come out

Meanwhile also, Kakashi is somehow managing to advance at an even faster rate than he did the first time. Its probably the fact he's being trained directly by the fucking snake sanin at peak strength + Sasuke being able to teach him chidori + the motivation of "the village killed my father" Oro gave him

In sound, he has nothing to do but train and learn and stalk people. And he's surrounded by workaholics with their own mountains of issues who don't give a shit enough to tell him to calm tf down

Oooooh ok hear me out, Orochimaru kinda seeing a bit of his own past self in Kakashi and taking on this personal project of like— ok well I fucked up my own body SO bad I locked myself out of so much. I kinda wanna see what would happen if I trained this prodigy child in these specific ways that I as an adult regretted not training with when younger

Sasuke, in finding out Orochimaru wanted to steal his body, figures he was training Kakashi as a backup, and confronts Orochimaru ab it

Orochimaru: (actually didn't even consider that and was doing this just for fun)

Orochimaru:

Orochimaru:

Orochimaru: yes. That's why I'm doing this. Oh no you figured out my master plan.

Orochimaru: fuck, why WASNT I planning on doing that??

Orochimaru then has to have a crisis about like. Ok so I legally, logically do have to consider doing that now. Like. Why am I not planning on doing that??

Shit I don't think I want to. But why wouldn't I want to??? Fuck.

Wait no it's because he's a child. I don't want to have a child body it'd totally throw off my style. Yeah. The youngest I can pull off is pre teen and I don't have time to wait for him to reach that age. That's exactly why. For sure.

(He's just allergic to admitting he might actually care and that Kakashi activates the saner parts of his brain that likes having people who genuinley like him around)

Anyways.

Kid Kakashi doesn't have Obito's eye, right? So hesr me out: when he got de aged, Obito automatically got his eye back.

And uhh. Didn't react well to it, actually. One might even be so bold as to say he reacted really, really badly to it.

So Obito REALLY wants kid Kakashi. Like. Really, really wants him. He is in fact breaking into sound and trying to lure him closer with candy (it's not working.)

Obito is incredibly fucking torn between like, hey so Kakashi didn't mean to lose the eye.

(Not just lose it but give it back. A somehow even worse insult. The eye not just discarded but fucking rejected, returned to sender, forgotten.)

Obito doesn't let Zetsu know he got his eye back (Zetsu would probably want him to keep it)

And then he decides yk what? This is fine.

He'll just have to give the eye back to Kakashi himself :)

Cue impromptu kidnapping and eye surgery!!

Ahaha don't worry Bakashi, Obito will make sure it looks just like the original! And he's so nice as to also make sure it goes quick and painless <3

Kakashi gets dumped back into sound with a new eye and no one takes it well.

Orochimaru, who just established/justified to himself why he can't body snatch Kakashi, now staring at the boy where he's now outfitted with the exact reason why he was gonna body snatch Sasuke, knowing he no longer has any excuses: Fuck.

I think Orochimaru should continue to get more unstable but like. Be hyper aware of it and also have moments of clarity where he knows he now has Kakashi, who he doesn't want to hurt. And so he kinda orchastrates/pushes Sasuke into either running off w Kakashi (+team Taka) to go find Itachi or into killing him (possibly bc with that clarity of "I don't want to hurt Kakashi" also comes the realization of how disgustingly low he's fallen from the figure of power and knowledge and arguable sanity he once was)

Whenever Kabuto revives Orochimaru or however the fuck that went (I dont actually know how he comes back later) Kakashi ends up helping, pass it on

Uhhh final notes:

Itachi sees baby Kakashi with his little brother who now also knows the truth of what happened bc Orochimaru told him and has a stroke

Karin (and later Orochimaru) help cure/stabilize him of his whatever disease

Whether Kakashi gets aged up again or not idk but he does get to go on lots of team Taka adventures, and Karin uses her insane chakra pool and healing to help him adjust to the eye way better than he did the first time

+ Sasuke goes even more insane ab projecting with the forcefully given eye (maybe Itachi can try to forcefully swap eyes w him too?? Would be on brand for Itachi 'dumb-fuck ideas' Uchiha)

Kakashi's presence somehow prevents Orochimaru from killing Hiruzen, meaning Tsunade is still out in the wild somewhere— where Team Taka accidentally run into her and maybe get her to join them? Or smthn idk but she recognizes Kakashi and loses her mind, bc she was also one of his old babysitters with Orochimaru

When they inevitably interact with / go back to Konoha, Gai is put on Kakashi catching duty

Yay ok post over that's it thanks for reading bye

Fic where Kakashi gets de-aged to like, under 5. Real, proper emotions and intuition over all logic child age, not even training under Minato yet so no hang ups or super deep character attachments other than just to his dad

And he doesn't recognize anyone— the best you'll get out of him is mistaking Gai for Might Dai. And he keeps asking for his dad.

Then they fucking lose him and through some convoluted roll of the dice, he winds up running into Orochimaru

But the thing is that Orochimaru used to be a friend of his father's. And he's aged really well and he's just very recognizable in general. So suddenly u have little Kakashi gripping onto the hem of his robes bc this is the only guy he knows he can trust. It's Tou-sans work friend!! Not any of these weirdo strangers who keep acting way too familiar (and overly invested in seeing his face under the mask, that means you Naruto)

Orochimaru loves this turn of events, what a fuckin chess piece!! Sorry Konoha, if u want ur baby genius back you'll have to pay the big bucks 💅

Same to you, Akatsuki guy who's weirdly invested in all of this (Obito)

Orochimaru doesn't even treat him that bad too, like he's definitley not a good guardian or anything, but he's not,,, bad? He has no reason to treat Kakashi badly or experiment on him, and he did once consider Sakumo a friend so there's some nostalgic fondness wrapped up in it all

Kakashi is legit living his best life out in the caves of sound, and hey, if he accidentally distracts and helps trick Orochimaru into being slightly less worse than canon, everyone wins, right?

[ajitated]

Irrefutably Human by ajility

Written for Invisobang 2021!

Summary: After spending 12 years in the Ghost Zone, Danny decides it’s time to see what the Human World has to offer. He quickly learns that blending in with humans is a lot harder than he thought it’d be… and that just maybe, the elder ghosts had a reason for keeping him in the Zone for so long.

a “Danny grows up in the GZ” au

Art for this fic was done by kawaiijohn and scarlette-foxx!

(Originally posted: 30 Aug 21)

Chapter 1

Danny has been in the Ghost Zone for 12 years now. Things were rough for the first few years, when he was freshly dead and didn’t understand what was happening or why, but since then he’s learned how to use his abilities and stabilize his core. He’s got a decently sized Haunt and even if he’s still changing, he can’t be considered freshly formed anymore. Sure, maybe his fangs are still coming in, but he can beat Skulker 4 of 5 times when they fight, and he’s even gotten better at detecting Shadow when he and Johnny spar.

All this to say that his Haunt is being ridiculously overprotective and he should be allowed to visit the Human World with the others.

“You know the restrictions Clockwork put in place as well as I do, Young One,” Frostbite says gently, “I too would prefer if you allow your fangs to grow in before taking a portal to the Human World.”

“I’ve been a ghost for 12 years though! The others only had to wait a few years to pass through portals safely, and besides,” Danny bears his teeth, showing off two sharpened upper canines, “my fangs have started to come in! We don’t even know how many I’ll get, maybe it’s just the two.”

Frostbite levels him with a very unimpressed look, and Danny deflates pretty much instantly. “I’m sure we both know that is not the case. Things are never simple with you, Young One, and we would like to be nearby in case something goes wrong. I am sure you remember the last time we assumed your forming would be like that of a regular ghost’s.”

Danny does remember it, of course he does, because it was the last time they assumed anything about him... and it had also been stupidly painful. It’d been about 6 years after he died and he was finally showing signs of developing a core type. Usually ghosts get a defined core about a year after forming, when their ectoplasm levels first stabilize, but Danny’s were still growing and fluctuating and being generally annoying - according to Pandora, it was because his human side was still so young.

He was showing signs of an ice or wind core, both of which were supposed to be slow-going and build up over time. Instead, he went from racing Ember across the Zone, perfectly fine, to destabilizing and putting off so much cold-energy that Ember couldn’t get near him in seconds. Luckily, they’d been relatively close to the Far Frozen and Ember was able to get some yetis to come help them. The yetis were able to contain his energy until Frostbite showed up, broke through his ice, and overpowered Danny’s core to force it to stabilize.

They spent the next week and a half just draining Danny’s energy to manageable levels, and two more weeks after that teaching him to control and monitor his core. And that didn’t even get into using or controlling any of his new ice abilities... Said new abilities turned out to be substantially stronger than an average ice-core’s, especially considering they were new, and he tended to use them both accidentally and by instinct. It was ok when he accidentally froze a yeti for startling him… not so much when he froze Ember, a fire-core, without so much as a thought.

Fire-cores were supposed to be difficult to overpower, near impossible to freeze, and… tended to do bad, really bad, if they got too cold. Ember was fine, but he wasn’t allowed near other core-types until he got a handle on his powers, and that included pretty much everyone in his Haunt at the time. It was… lonely. He wouldn’t undo it, because Frostbite ended up joining him by the end of it, but Danny also never wants to be kept away from his family again.

That being said, unstable cores are about the most dangerous thing a ghost can go through, and Danny’s core is perfectly stable now. He doesn’t see how his growing-in fangs could mess anything up, which he points out hopefully.

But Frostbite just shrugs. “A few years ago, I would have said only fire and electric cores build up quietly and burgeon all at once. That was before you turned yourself into an iceberg right outside our lair with no intention of doing so. There is little to no precedence for a being as perfectly liminal as yourself, we do not know what will or will not be dangerous for you.

“It is better if you remain within reach of Clockwork, Pandora, and myself until your form stops altering, Young One. Your liminality may allow you to take on a human form, but that does not mean the humans would be able — or willing — to help you, if something goes wrong.”

---

The problem with the elder ghosts, is that they don’t actually leave their lairs the vast majority of the time. This means that Danny, who likes exploring and feels restless if he isn’t finding new things, spends much more time flying around the Zone and existing outside of lairs, which in turn means that he isn’t usually around the elders unless they’re actively teaching him or need him for something.

Which means he’s usually with the rest of his Haunt, and… Skulker and Ember aren’t very good role models. Kitty and Johnny try to be, but also occasionally fall short. Ember, Kitty, and Johnny all remember what it was like to be alive, and all of them know what it’s like to feel lost. Elder ghosts have a stronger handle on their Obsession and rarely feel listless, whereas Danny… well. Half the time he isn’t even certain his Obsession is ‘curiosity’, like the others say.

He feels better when he’s moving and feels like he’s making progress when he learns something, but he doesn’t know what that progress is for. It’s like he’s missing something, like another piece has yet to drop and he won’t be whole until it does, but he’s never told them that. Ghosts that don’t understand their Obsession tend to fade — Danny isn’t a full ghost, he knows he won’t fade, so he doesn’t want to make everyone worried about him.

He had his talk with Frostbite just yesterday, and although he knows the elder is right and that the yetis are just looking out for him… the yetis aren’t here right now. Skulker, Ember, Johnny, and Kitty are here, and they’re talking about a portal.

Danny… isn’t particularly known for cautious decision making. Really, they only have themselves to blame for this. He slides up next to Ember and flicks his tail at Shadow when it starts trying to sneak up on him.

“Sooo…” he says, drawing out the word and trying (failing) to act nonchalant, “What portal are we talking about?”

Ember, the wonderful fire-core she is, responds without thinking anything of it. “There’s a human-made one, a decent flight from the Clocktower. It’s been there for a few years, but usually fluctuates a lot and makes the nearby ectoplasm all wavy-”

“-except that Skulker is claiming it stopped doing that,” Kitty interrupts impatiently, “which doesn’t make sense, because that means it’s stable now, and humans can’t make stable portals.”

“Humans have made stable portals before, they’re just usually brief and stop working pretty quick. And there was that one that appeared 12 years ago, I know Clockwork put blocks around it but you can still sense the energy from it…” Johnny puts in, but trails off when he looks at Danny, narrowing his eyes.

“Technus went through it already and came back just fine, I’m telling you it stabilized somehow. And it lets out right in a human town, no extra flight required. It’s perfect, Kitty and Johnny can go on their date, I can see if there’s anything worth hunting, and Ember can start working out some concert stuff.”

Danny nods, partially because it sounds like a perfectly reasonable plan to him and partially because Johnny’s the only one that seems to have noticed he shouldn’t be part of this conversation. “So, when are we going?” he asks, smiling innocently.

Johnny rubs a hand over his face and the three other ghosts freeze. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the Far Frozen right now?”

Danny goes to shrug, but before he can actually reply, Skulker cuts in. “You wanna come halfa?” He sneers, “Don’t tell me it’s gonna be another Obsession of yours, figuring out how humans work.”

“Don’t be mean, Skulk. Babypop’s never been through a portal before, anyone with a curiosity Obsession would wanna go.” Ember rolls her eyes and wraps an arm around Danny’s shoulders, pulling him closer. They both make pleading faces at the larger ghost, who doesn’t seem to want to budge.

“I dunno guys, humans are… pretty destructive,” Johnny puts in, and immediately holds his hands up when Ember and Danny whip around to glare at him. “I’m just sayin! They get rid of anything that’s different, and ‘different’ doesn’t even begin to describe Phantom.”

“They can’t be that bad!” Danny objects, and though he’ll deny it till he fades, he’s definitely pouting. “If I’m half human, then they’ve gotta half like me, right? I want to meet a human!”

“Johnny is right, Danny,” Kitty shakes her head, “Humans don’t like ghosts to begin with, and they destroy each other over stupid shit like skin color , whaddya think they’d do if they find out about you?”

Danny… pauses at that. Because really? Skin color? Clockwork is blue, Kitty is bright green, Pandora is aqua, and Skulker is either grey or green depending on the situation. Ember is light grey, he himself is a soft blue-ish green color most of the time, but sometimes turns a weird pink-ish human tone too, kind of like Johnny, and Nocturne is the same color as the night skies he’s only seen in his dreams. As far as he knows, humans have a lot less color variety, so what would they even fight over?

Deciding it's not important right now anyway, Danny crosses his arms. "Then they won't find out about me! I'll stay in my squishy human form the whole time, I bet I'll blend in so well you'll lose track of me."

Kitty and Johnny still look skeptical, so Ember adds on, "He's just gonna follow us if we don't bring him, might as well let him come and keep an eye on him. Right, babypop?" And only then do they give in.

"Fine, but no flying off!" Kitty demands, "Pandora would crush all our cores if something happens to you, and being destabilized is not on my to-do list."

Danny nods reassuringly and high-fives Ember, which… might've ruined the whole 'reassurance' bit if Johnny's sigh is anything to go by, and then the five of them are off. Danny really is glad they gave in because he absolutely would have followed if they hadn't, and he's horrible at sneaking around — the trip would've been miserable. Now he can play ecto-tag with Ember and Shadow as they go, while Skulker pretends to be mature and acts like he doesn't want to play.

Ember is winning when they make it to the portal and for the first time ever, Danny lets it happen instead of dragging the game out. The portal is… somehow both bigger and smaller than he expected. Three of them could easily fit through at once, but the inside is bright green and blends in with the rest of the Ghost Zone, making it very easy to miss if you don't already know it's there. There's a ring of grey metal outlining it, and it looks like the bottom should be connected to something even though it's just floating in open space like a common Lair entrance would. It's… interesting. Interesting, and unsettling.

It feels different from the rest of the Zone, like it’s stagnant. Everything else could keep shifting and changing and flowing, and this ring of metal would still stay right here, unmoving and constant.

Danny flies around it in a half-circle, notes that the other side looks roughly the same, then loops back around to the side they originally approached and flies closer. Something about it… definitely unnerves him.

"Does going through portals hurt?" He asks, reaching his hand out until it's only a few centimeters away but still not touching.

Skulker scoffs. "Of course not, whelp. It's like teleporting. If you're having second thoughts, of course, you can still stay here. We don’t need a halfa slowing us down anyway."

Danny growls at the insult and flies forward instead of replying, going straight through the portal.

---

If Danny had been expecting anything at all, it wouldn’t have been what he finds on the other side of the portal. The first thing he notices is that everything feels heavier. It leads out into a room with a whole lot of metal: metal floors, metal walls, metal tables and cabinets and contraptions. He only has a few seconds to ponder it all before the portal glows and Johnny, Kitty, and Ember all come through at the same time.

They all jump on him immediately, fussing and complaining at him and “Danny you can’t do that holy shit none of us had tested this one, what were you thinking ?!” but they just as quickly leave him to go yell at Skulker, who came through much more slowly while they were fussing. Danny rolls his eyes. They’re all part of his Haunt and he loves them, but sometimes they’re ridiculous.

Tuning them out in favor of looking around the room more, Danny notes that there are jars filled with ectoplasm stacked on some of the shelves. They give off some ambient light, but the room is pretty dark besides that. He floats over to the ectoplasm, wondering how they got it and what humans use ectoplasm for, but is pulled away by Ember seconds later.

“C’mon babypop, don’t get distracted already! We’ve gotta get out there before Clockwork notices you’re not in the GZ.” She phases through the ceiling and then out of the building.

Danny rolls his eyes and follows after her at a slower pace, taking the time to actually look at the house as they phase through walls to get outside. As far as he can tell, it’s abandoned: there are no lights on, no noise, and a thin layer of dust coats everything from the couch to the kitchen counter. The portal is located in the basement and it’s the liveliest room in the house, thanks to the soft glow of ectoplasm and the static hum of electricity.

Why someone would build a portal in an abandoned house, he doesn’t know, but it’s certainly convenient for them — easier access, and Danny can take his time exploring the house later, without worrying about any humans noticing him. Surely even an abandoned house will give him some idea of how humans live.

Read the rest on ao3!

[etherrreal]

“5:00am”

Pairing: ushijima x reader Genre: fluff Summary: looking back, you’re not sure what made you think that jogging with ushijima would end in anything but complete and utter disaster, but it’s too late to go back now WC: 5k Warnings: brief mentions of non-serious injury, a little blood, implied smut, too many paragraphs about ushijima’s hands A/N: first fic gang! this was supposed to be like 500 words but as the blog title suggests, i’m a liar -Dawn

You’re not sure what possesses you to go jogging with Ushijima at the ungodly hour of 5AM –and on a Saturday, no less– but here you are, tugging a windbreaker over your tank top and leggings while he waits for you by the door.

Most of it, you’re sure, is just because you miss him. The two of you have been so busy lately –you with your new job, him with the whole professional volleyball thing– so this is the first weekend in a while that you’ll actually be spending together.

It’s only natural that you want to spend as much time as possible with your boyfriend before your respective commitments are back to pulling you both in opposite directions, as they have more times than you’d like to admit in the past four months you’ve been dating.

Or maybe 5AM-you, lacking caffeine, sleep, and any sense of real judgment, is just losing your mind.

Ushijima certainly seems to think so, if the look he gives you when you volunteer to accompany him on his routine morning jog is any indication. He’s far from the most expressive person you’ve ever dated, but you’ve been with him long enough to register the surprise on his features; the way his pretty olive eyes widen a fraction and the way he pauses to watch you, like he’s trying to gauge how serious you are.

“What?” you ask as you join him by the door, removing your slippers.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You hate running.”

“Running? Absolutely. Jogging, however, I think I can handle, especially if it’s with my handsome boyfriend who I haven’t spent nearly enough time with lately.”

With your slippers out of the way, you move to reach for your sneakers next. A quick glance in his direction confirms that he’s still giving you that same bewildered look, a crease forming between his eyebrows. It makes you falter as you pick up your sneakers, wondering if you’ve made a mistake.

Now that you think about it, he does usually jog on his own. The two of you are no strangers to working out together –if him doing push-ups with you perched comfortably on his back counts as working out– but you’ve never actually joined him on a morning run before.

Is this something he prefers to do alone? Are you overstepping his boundaries by inviting yourself along before checking to see if it was okay? Suddenly, you find yourself wishing you would’ve asked first.

“Do you...not want me to go with you? Because if you’d prefer to go alone, that’s totally fine, I’ll just–”

He catches your wrist before you can put your sneakers back down, and the rest of your sentence is lost somewhere between the fingertips he presses against your skin and the other hand he uses to lift yours.

It’s almost criminal, you think, the way a single touch from him is enough to completely derail your train of thought, whatever you were babbling about suddenly the furthest thing from your mind. You think you shouldn’t be as phased by it by now, not after all the time you’ve spent together, but no such luck.

Really, it’s his hands that are the problem, now that you think about it. His hands, steady and calloused and strong, but still so undeniably gentle and patient when it comes to you.

It’s hard to pick your favorite feature of Ushijima’s when he looks the way he does –all tanned skin, broad shoulders, and chiseled abs– but his hands are pretty high up on your list. They have been from the moment you met him at Iwaizumi’s housewarming party last year.

You had obviously seen him before, though you never actually spoke to him until the party. It was mostly during high school volleyball matches between Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa, courtesy of your childhood friendship with Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

You remember spotting Ushijima and thinking he looked so serious and unapproachable, even more imposing than he did in the photos of him featured in that Monthly Volleyball magazine you used to watch Oikawa vandalize with ridiculous-looking mustaches and devil horns.

When you saw Ushijima at Iwaizumi’s party, he still looked serious, not to mention larger and even more intimidating in person, but his hands were warm and kinder than you were expecting, careful in the way they wrapped around yours when he introduced himself. It was only hours later when those same hands reached for yours again to help you off the couch that you realized you spent the whole night with him.

Now, months later, you’re standing with him in his stupidly expensive apartment, half-panicked that you might’ve overestimated his desire to spend time with you. But Ushijima’s hands are still steady and warm against your skin, even now, reassuring in a way you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of.

“I’d love it if you joined me,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand, and if you weren’t smiling before, then you definitely are now.

You pull on his hand to tug him down towards you, a request that he silently obliges. You perch on your toes to reach him and deliver a chaste kiss to his lips, smiling against his mouth. When you pull away to look at him, you find him smiling, too, in that soft and subtle way of his that you’re so glad he’s chosen to share with you.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” he adds. “We’ll be running for a while, and I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re clumsier than most.”

Sadly, he’s not wrong. You are pretty clumsy, almost cartoonishly so. He’s watched you bang your leg on his dining room table practically every time you pass it, heard you curse to yourself after accidentally knocking down every item in his shower. At this point, holding your arm in his is as natural to him as breathing, just so he’s there to keep you from tripping over your own two feet.

And while you definitely appreciate the concern, you don’t think it’s entirely necessary, at least not for this. Sure, you have a bad habit of falling on your ass more often than not, but you’re also able to do so without sustaining any major injuries. You’re confident this time will be no different.

Besides, it’s just one jog. You’ll survive, even if your muscles might hate you for it later. Still, you know he worries about you, which is why you reach up to give him another quick kiss.

“Deal,” you assure him once you pull away. Then, you grin, voice taking on a more teasing edge as you look up at him. “As long as you promise not to be embarrassed when I leave you in the dust. You know, since I’m just so naturally athletic.”

Ushijima’s never been the best at detecting sarcasm, but with you, like so many other things, it’s different. He can tell you’re joking by the way you giggle and wink at him, and when he huffs out a quiet laugh, you smile and sit down to put on your sneakers.

He surprises you when he kneels to tie them for you before you get the chance to do it yourself.

“Careful, Wakatoshi,” you warn him, not for the first time. “If you keep being so sweet to me, you’ll never be able to get rid of me. You might just be stuck with me forever.”

“That’s fine,” he says, like he’s already considered the consequences before and has chosen to accept them. “You’re the only one I can imagine being with for that long, anyway.”

He moves on to tie the laces on your second sneaker, taking zero responsibility for the way his words make your heart flutter in your chest. He always does this: says stupidly romantic things with barely any prompting and absolutely no consideration or even awareness of the effect they have on you.

His voice doesn’t change when he says them, either. He uses the same blunt tone he always does, like it’s a simple fact, like he’s asking you to pass him his phone charger instead of alluding to a potential future with you.

It just makes you fall that much more in love with him.

Not that you’ve actually told him yet. You’re still waiting for the right moment. You wonder if maybe this might be it, but then he stands up and turns away from you to open the door and the opportunity is gone.

Maybe that’s for the best. This morning, you decide that you can handle jogging with your pro-athlete boyfriend or confessing your love for him, not both. The latter will just have to wait for dinner tonight, assuming you make it back in one piece and your legs don’t just fall off from the sudden exercise.

You stand up and follow him out the door.

Ushijima insists you both take the time to stretch before you actually start running, so you spend a few minutes doing so in the empty lobby. You pretend to struggle with a few of them, just so you’ll have an excuse to have his hands on you.

You’re almost positive he sees through your little ruse, if the amused look he gives you is any indication, but he doesn’t complain, guiding his hands over your body to help you bend and stretch like he can’t see the grin on your face.

Once you’re all warmed up, you’re ready to start jogging. You follow behind him as he leads you along his usual path down the block, the streets noticeably empty, save for the occasional passing car.

You know the only reason you’re able to keep up with him is because he’s slowing down for you, but you don’t let it bother you. He’s a professional athlete, after all, and you’re the kind of person who doesn’t even like to run to catch the bus, so it’s to be expected. Still, you give it your all, remembering to keep your breathing steady just like he taught you.

And you have to admit, your aversion to any sort of cardio aside, jogging with Ushijima is actually kind of fun.

For the first five minutes, at least.

Then it all goes to shit.

You’re not sure how it happens, either. One moment, everything is great. Sure, you’re already feeling a little sweaty, and maybe your lungs are screaming at you just a tiny bit –the price of inactivity, and all that– but you power through it because, in the words of so many great orators before you, mama ain’t raise no bitch.

But then you trip on something –a pothole in the street, your own foot, who the hell knows– and suddenly you’re wiping out for the entire world –or maybe just your boyfriend and that one stray cat you passed, which is still pretty embarrassing– to see.

Ushijima’s quite a few feet ahead of you now, because as much as he tried to slow down for you in the beginning, you figure he just can’t help but speed up a bit. He’s not the type to do anything half-assed, not even a casual morning jog. You’re almost grateful for it in a way, because it means he doesn’t actually see you trip and stumble like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time.

He does, however, hear the yelp that escapes your throat, making him glance over his shoulder just in time to see you fall forward. He runs back towards you, but he’s too far to reach you in time, and your knees hit the pavement hard, your hands shooting out to catch yourself as best as you can.

You don’t even have to look to know that the skin on both your knees and your palms is scraped up. There’s also a shooting pain that starts at your ankle and darts right up your leg, reassuring you that you most definitely stepped on it wrong.

Ushijima is by your side in an instant, normally stoic face scrunched up with worry. He helps you twist yourself into a more comfortable position on the sidewalk, though it does little to ease your embarrassment or your annoyance with your own incoordination.

“I’m okay,” you try to reassure him, but that’s not entirely the truth. Your palms are stinging and your ankle is throbbing, not to mention the fact that your knees currently resemble a cat’s scratching post. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

The look he gives you is doubtful, and you know for a fact he doesn’t believe you at all. “You’re bleeding.”

And holy crap, you are. It shouldn’t be a surprise to you, since you felt the entire thing, but the sight of the blood on your knees and palms still stuns you a bit.

“Come on.” He wraps his arms around you, pulling you up with ease you would normally marvel at if it didn’t make you feel so pathetic. “We’re going back. I’ll be able to treat your wounds and take a better look at your ankle.”

“Whaa– but we’ve barely even started jogging!” you protest, pouting despite the stinging of your cuts. “I told you that I’m fine, Toshi. I can still walk–”

You try to put pressure on the ankle you rolled and immediately wince. You almost stumble forward again, but this time Ushijima is there to catch you, holding you against him with his arms around your waist.

“No, you can’t. You need to treat your injuries, so stop being stubborn and let me help you. We’re going back.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, eyebrows drawing together in frustration –mostly at yourself– but stubborn as you are, you know he’s right. There’s no arguing your way out of this one, not that he would listen to you in the first place. He’s always been protective of you, which means he won’t be budging on this.

You heave a defeated sigh but nod at him anyway, relenting. He helps you hobble along with your arm around his shoulders and his arm around your waist for a few steps before he seems to think better of it.

In one fluid motion, he’s picking you up in his arms, holding you bridal style against his chest. And while normally his arms are one of your favorite places to be, the fact that he has to carry you like this all because you’re an idiot who can’t watch where you’re going is doing nothing to ease your already damaged pride.

You try to convince him to put you down and let you walk on your own, but unsurprisingly, he doesn’t agree. Your face, which is already warm with embarrassment, just seems to heat up even more. Your mortification only increases when you spot his apartment building a few streets later.

God, the two of you were running for what, maybe five minutes? Six? And now you’re already back home? Talk about embarrassing. And right after you promised him to be careful, too.

The fact that the pothole –which you are now deciding to blame for your fall, because you don’t think your ego can handle anything else– had the audacity to trip you and then not immediately swallow you whole to save you this embarrassment is honestly disrespectful, at this point.

Ushijima was right earlier. You do hate running. And you hate yourself even more for believing that jogging at any hour –least of all 5AM– would end in anything other than complete and utter disaster.

Your only consolation is that it’s so early, chances are that no one else saw you trip and almost eat shit in the middle of the street. It’s the little victories that count, you suppose, though you might just have to burn this outfit later to rid yourself of the reminder. You’re not sure how you’re ever going to live this one down.

Thankfully, the universe seems to take some pity on you, since you don’t pass any of Ushijima’s neighbors in the lobby. He maneuvers you into the apartment, managing to close the door behind him and remove his sneakers without putting you down.

When he does finally let you go, it’s to place you delicately on his bed. He disappears from the room and returns a moment later with a first aid kit and an ice pack, while you flop defeatedly onto your back against his pillows, pouting.

“I can’t believe I actually fell.” You groan, throwing an arm over your eyes. You feel the bed dip beneath his weight as he sits beside you, but you still don’t move. “The one time I willingly decide to run, and this is what happens. We didn’t even make it past the supermarket!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It could’ve happened to anyone,” he says, opening the first aid kit. His voice is as straightforward as ever, but you know he’s trying to comfort you in his own way. “Besides, it could’ve been a lot worse.”

“Worse than twisting my ankle and making a fool of myself five minutes in?” You shift to prop yourself up on your elbows and raise an eyebrow at him. “How?”

“You could’ve twisted your ankle and made a fool of yourself two minutes in instead.”

The bluntness of his response makes you snort, cracking a half-smile as you push yourself to sit up fully. “Good point.”

You watch as he gets to work, mesmerized by how careful he is with you. He takes your palms in his hands, wiping away the blood gently and cleaning the small scratches it reveals. The scrapes on your knees, which he moves to next, sting more, but he moves slowly enough that it doesn’t overwhelm you. He’s always taken such good care of you, and this time is no different.

After all of your scrapes are covered, he examines your ankle, which is unsurprisingly the worst of your injuries. When he helps you tug your sneaker and sock off, you can both see it’s already swelling.

It’s not broken, he assures you, but it is lightly sprained. You’ll need to rest and compress it until you’re ready to walk on it again, but the ice should help with the swelling. He lifts your ankle on top of a few pillows to keep it elevated, covering it with the ice pack.

He moves higher up on the bed to sit beside you against the headboard, searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “How does that feel?”

“It still hurts, but it’s not as bad as before,” you answer. “Honestly, I think my pride is more damaged than anything else.”

You lean back against the pillows propped up on his headboard and sigh, unable to stop the guilty frown tugging at your lips. As grateful as you are for his help, you also feel really bad that he had to stop and take care of you at all.

If you hadn’t insisted on joining him on his run, then none of this would’ve happened. You would still have two normal-sized ankles, and he would be able to finish his run without having to worry about you and your chronic clumsiness.

“I’m sorry I ruined our jog,” you find yourself apologizing, fiddling with the hem of your shirt guiltily. “It was supposed to be cute and fun, but all I did was screw it up. I’m sorry you had to come back to take care of me.”

Ushijima shakes his head. “Taking care of you isn’t a burden. There’s no need for you to apologize.”

His hands reach for yours, large enough to engulf your own as he turns them over. His eyes follow the path his fingertips trace lightly over the band-aids covering the scratches on your palms. “If I hadn’t gone on ahead of you–”

You press a hand against his chest to stop him, his eyes flickering back up to meet your own.

As endearing as his concern is, he’s not the one at fault here. You don’t think anyone is, really, except for maybe that damned pothole you may or may not have tripped on. More importantly, you don’t want him to blame himself for this.

“Nuh-uh, nope, none of that. I’m the one who tripped, remember? It’s not your fault I suck at running. Or any kind of physical activity, actually.”

You pause, tilting your head thoughtfully as you mull over your own words. He watches the mischievous smile he’s learned to love appear on your face, hears the teasing edge seeping into your tone as you lower your voice just a bit.

“Except maybe the one that involves you railing me into the mattress,” you add with a smirk, playful and just shameless enough in a way that never fails to draw him in even more. “That one, I don’t mind, for obvious reasons.”

He sighs, though your words don’t surprise him. “I really wish you wouldn’t word it that way.”

“Too late~”

You’re practically singing as you grin at him, grabbing his chin and bringing his face closer to yours.

He mutters something about you having a one track mind, but you don’t miss the amusement in his eyes or the fond little smile he casts in your direction. He doesn’t stop you from pulling him in either, allowing you to rest your other hand on the side of his face.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me, Wakatoshi.”

You meet him halfway for a loving kiss that you hope is enough to express your gratitude, one he doesn’t hesitate to return. When you break apart, he rests his forehead against yours.

And right when you think you can’t possibly love him anymore, he promises quietly, sincerely, “Always.”

As usual, he gives you no time to recover. He kisses you on the forehead and then stands up, announcing that there’s something else he needs to go grab before leaving the room.

Honestly, you’re hoping it’s food. You’re starving, and after all of this morning’s excitement* (see also: trauma), there’s nothing more you want than to cuddle up alongside your boyfriend while enjoying a plate of your favorite breakfast food.

To your surprise –and slight disappointment– when Ushijima returns, it’s not with food or anything else to treat your injuries, but rather with a set of keys. He sits beside you again, opening his palm to offer them to you.

“Well, those aren’t pancakes.” You take the keys anyway, twirling the ring around one of your fingers before raising an eyebrow at him. “Are these what I think they are?”

“The keys to my apartment,” he confirms. “I want you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widen. It’s not the last thing you expected him to ask you when he offered you the keys, but it’s definitely not the first one either.

When he first held them out to you, you thought maybe he was just giving you a copy of your own to hold onto, just in case you ever needed them. You’ve thought about offering him the same a few times before, just so he could let himself into your own apartment whenever he comes over instead of you having to get up and open the door for him.

But that’s not what’s happening here. It looks like Ushijima’s chosen to skip the exchanging apartment keys step entirely in favor of just straight up asking you to move in with him. And while part of you is thrilled by it, your heart hammering in your chest with excitement at the prospect of getting to wake up next to him every day, of getting to come home to him, there’s another part of you that’s wondering if maybe you’re moving too fast.

It’s not that you don’t trust him, or that you doubt how much he cares for you, because you don’t. Your previous partners couldn’t even spell commitment, much less agree to it, but Ushijima’s not like them.

He told you, not too long after the first few times you went out together, that he doesn’t believe in dating casually or wasting his time. If he’s with someone, it’s because he sees a future with them. Hearing that was a bit intimidating at first, but it was also extraordinarily refreshing.

Asking you to move in with him, you know, is just another step towards that future. And while the idea excites you, making you feel more secure and adored than in any of your past relationships, there’s a part of you that’s still a bit hesitant.

After all, what sets you and Ushijima apart –more than your senses of humor, more than your completely different levels of athletic ability, as evidenced by the ice pack and bandages you’re currently sporting– is the fact that you, unlike him, often get caught up in the “what-if’s” of a situation. Whenever you have to make a decision, you psych yourself out by imagining every little thing that could possibly go wrong.

He calls your name, tearing you from your thoughts. He’s looking at you like he already knows what you’re thinking, like he can see the tangle of anxiety you feel nestling into your bones. Maybe that’s why he reaches out to take the hand that’s not holding his keys, lacing your fingers together.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “You haven’t said anything.”

“I know, I know, I’m just...processing.” You give his hand a quick squeeze, moving the keys around in your other palm. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since my last away game.” He answers right away like he doesn’t have to think about it, like he just knows. Not for the first time, you find yourself envying his conviction. “I went straight to your apartment from the airport, and you were already there, waiting. I realized how much I liked the idea of getting to come home to you, and vice versa. I’ve been waiting for the right time to ask you to move in since then.”

“Wakatoshi, that was last month. You’ve known since back then?” You stare at him with wide, wondering eyes, your cheeks already warming at the implication, growing even warmer when he nods. “And you don’t think it’s too soon? You’re not the least bit hesitant about living with me?”

“Hesitation is only necessary for those who are unsure of their desires. I know what I want, and that’s you, if you’ll have me.”

If you’ll have me. He says it like it’s easy. Like he’s already yours, to love and to be loved by.

And he is, you realize. He has been for a while, just like you have. You knew you were in love with him this morning, and you’ve known it for weeks before that, too. You just weren’t sure when or how to bring it up, but now you are.

“I’d like that. I like you– wait, that’s not right.” You release his hand, and he stares at you in confusion, the corner of his mouth curving downward. You’re quick to smooth it away with your thumb, your eyes earnest and full of affection as you correct yourself, “I love you, Wakatoshi.”

The confusion in his eyes quickly transforms into surprise. You’re not sure what stuns him more: your confession itself, or the confident, doubtless way you say it. You smile at him and take his face into your hands, careful to move his keys so they don’t scratch him.

“I’ve known it for a while. I just wasn’t sure when to bring it up, but now I am. I don’t expect you to say it back unless you’re ready, but–”

“I love you,” he says confidently, unwaveringly, and now it’s your turn to be stunned.

You blink, taken aback for a few seconds before your lips begin curving into a goofy smile. “Really?”

He hums affirmatively, and after that you can’t do anything besides kiss him. He’s quick to return the gesture, moving his mouth against yours and winding one arm around your waist to pull you closer. He pulls back from you right when you’re about to deepen the kiss. You try to pout, but it’s hard to do so when you feel as giddy and over the moon as you do now.

“Does this mean you’ll be moving in with me?”

“Of course.” You beam at him. “I’d love to move in with you, Wakatoshi.”

He smiles, his arm moving up to wrap around your shoulders, and your own smile grows brighter as you lean into him, cuddling against his side and resting your head against his chest. Things between you are quiet for a few moments, both of you basking in the comfortable silence.

You’re shifting his keys in your hand when a thought occurs to you, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes your chest.

“So this is why you let me go running with you this morning,” you tease. “You knew that if I did injure myself, that would just make it harder for me to leave, so I’d have no choice but to say yes to moving in. How sneaky of you.”

“You volunteered to join me–”

“I know, Toshi, I’m just kidding.” You grin, tilting your head to look up at him. “So, what do you say we go make some breakfast in your kitchen? I’m starving.”

“Our kitchen now,” he corrects, and your heart flutters in your chest for what must be the tenth time in the hour or so you’ve been awake this morning. It can’t be healthy for you. “And I’ll be the one making breakfast. You stay here and rest that ankle.”

He kisses your forehead and stands up to head into the kitchen. You frown at the loss of his warmth, but another look at the keys in your hand has you smiling again.

Maybe jogging isn’t so bad after all.

Written by: Dawn

[neoculturetravesty]

He’s never called her pretty

Image taken from here.

Pairing: Doyoung x Florist!Reader Genre: Angst, Romance, Fluff Warnings: Might have dropped a couple of f bombs. Word Count: 4982

Summary: Doyoung has a cruel realization that being an idol has hindered him from being the best boyfriend to you. 

 A/N: This is my first fic ever, and I can’t really believe I’m doing this. But inspiration hit me and I had to let it all out. Let me know what you think!

“Has he ever even told you you’re pretty?” Doyoung hears through the curtains, and he knows he’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have. He doesn't know how he ended up here but he certainly can’t reveal himself now. He knows he shouldn’t be here but a pressing instinct tells him that the conversation concerns him and suddenly, he’s found himself rooted to the spot, unable to move his feet, sinfully listening in. 

Moments ago, he had walked into the venue and for a while, he had just stopped and stared. He had known his girlfriend was talented, but watching her work for the very first time with his own two eyes took his breath away. People would talk about your skills all the time, but somehow, it never registered in his mind. He felt a bout of shame as he realized this. You weren’t just a florist, it seemed. You were an artist, because what Doyoung saw in front of him was unlike anything he had ever seen. That’s why people talked about you.

When an unassuming usher walked up to him and asked if he was a guest, all he could manage was “I’m looking for Y/N.” He had to remind himself that he was here to surprise you and he needed to make himself less conspicuous before someone recognized him. The fact that he was ogling at the decor whilst clutching onto a bouquet of red tulips didn’t help the matter. So he had tried to follow the usher’s instructions as best he could to find you. That’s how he found himself here, hidden behind a veil without meaning to be hidden.

It felt perverse, the fact that he was not letting his presence be known, but curiosity had him unable to walk away. He listened in.

“Well… not in so many words.” Doyoung feels his stomach drop before he hears the reply to the cruel question, because the voice that answered it was a voice that he had memorized perfectly in every part of his mind. It was yours.

He could hear you from miles away, that’s how attuned his ears were to the sound of your voice. He knew it was you that answered that foul question, as much as he stood in that moment, hoping it wasn’t because these were not the words he had ever expected to hear from you.

“How long have you guys been together, again?” He hears another pestering, unkind voice and his heart races.

“Not long, maybe about 5 months?” your voice is meek, Doyoung can sense your discomfort through the thin veil that hides him.

“Have you met his parents?” It’s a different voice this time, but this one is just as unkind. Doyoung wants to move, to say something but he’s not supposed to be here in the first place, and truth be told, he wants to remain hidden because he wants to know.

“Well, no. Not yet. They don’t live here, so not yet.” He can tell you’re cornered, you’re uncomfortable, you want to leave and you don’t have to say the words for Doyoung to know exactly how you feel. 

“How about his brother?” 

“Well, they’re both really busy, he’s just… never had a chance I guess.” Now, he should do it now. Doyoung should barge in and take you away from this. Who are these women anyway to be cornering you with such invasive questions?

“So you’re saying in the 5 months you’ve been together, he’s kept you a secret… even from his family.” A secret? He hasn’t kept you a secret, he’s just been waiting for the perfect time.

“I don’t think I’m a secret.” Doyoung’s heart leaps in his chest and he suddenly feels hopeful because you’ve said the words as if you heard his thoughts. 

“Y/N… I don’t know how to tell you this, but I think he’s going to break up with you.” the unkind voice declares with a tone laced with feigned pity. It makes Doyoung sick.

“Yeah, Sooji is right. Y/N, sweetheart… men don’t wait that long if they’re in it for the long run.” 

There is a shuffling of feet and then the first voice says “I’m so sorry, Y/N, but it would be better this way I think. I know men like him. He’s had his fun so now you’re a liability. I think he’s going to cut you off sooner rather than later.”

Doyoung hears the ruffling of clothes and more shuffling of feet before it all turns silent. Yet, he finds himself unmoving, his mind racing, his body still. He notices that he’s holding onto the red tulips a bit too tight. Red tulips. ‘You are my perfect love,’ that’s what he remembers you teaching him about them.

So why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you defend him? 

Doyoung can’t explain it, but all he feels in this moment is anger and betrayal. Why did you let those women talk about him like that? To talk about the two of you like that? Why didn’t you speak up and tell them to keep their noses out of your business? Why didn’t you tell them to knock it off because they don’t know about you, about how the two of you were together? Unless…

Unless you believed them. 

Had he ever told you that you were pretty? Doyoung thinks, really thinks about it. He thinks back to your first date. You had closed your flower shop early for him, to protect him from prying eyes and unwanted camera lenses. You had turned the blinds on the windows down and showed Doyoung your creations. You had worn a white sundress with your hair down and when you had smiled up at him from behind the sunflowers, Doyoung had actually found himself a loss for words. He had never felt that before, the feeling of losing his speech because a girl had actually taken his breath away, simply by smiling at him. He remembered stupidly wondering if he had fallen in love at that moment or if you were really just that beautiful that you turned his brain to mush. Had he told you that he thought you were pretty then? No, he hadn’t. Not in so many words, your answer replays in his mind with a sting.

But did you want to hear it? Doyoung hadn’t thought so. You were far beyond the need for meaningless expressions, he had presumed. It’s why he was drawn to you. Being with you was as easy as breathing. You were okay about the fact that the two of you couldn’t go on dates… or proper dates, in the way real people did. You always seemed comfortable enough sitting next to him on the couch as you lazily browsed through Netflix. You were never in a mood when Doyoung forgot to text you back because he was in the studio, and you always met him with warmth even as you waited because his practice went on for a bit too long. Doyoung didn’t think you were the kind who’d wait around for her boyfriend to tell her she was pretty. 

‘Of course she wanted to hear it,’ Doyoung thinks in a moment of crippling realization. He was a fool. What woman wouldn’t want her boyfriend to tell her she was pretty! What woman wouldn’t want her boyfriend to take her on dates, on proper dates where she could doll up and be pampered? What woman wouldn’t want a boyfriend she could take pictures with and post them for the world to see? He was a fool. He had taken your kindness to mean something else. Comfort. Contentment. Complacence. He was a fool. 

And now these women had convinced you that he wasn’t interested in you. And you had believed them. Why else would you have fallen silent? Truth be told, he hadn’t done much to show you what you meant to him. Now that he looks back, it was always you putting in the effort. He was a fool. And now here he was. Hidden quite literally behind a curtain in a room he wasn’t supposed to be in, head in his hands. ‘You are my perfect love,’ the tulips mock him so he drops them. He gets out of there, only one conclusive thought in his brain: ‘She deserves better.’

You loved events like these almost as much as you loved running the store. Your fingers were stained from creating the floral sculptures and your back ached a little. But your heart was happy. You stood back and looked at how you took a simple venue and turned it into something magical, if you might say so yourself. You saw the gleam in your client’s eyes and you felt proud of yourself. You had done well. You took a deep, content breath and let it out in a happy sigh. Decorating for events like these reminded you why you loved your job. What you didn’t like was that inevitably, at times like these, you were met with so many invasive questions. 

“You work so much, don’t you get tired, Y/N?”

“Is being a florist really worth it?”

“Don’t you ever want a real job?”

“Are you dating someone, Y/N?”

“I know a guy, I could set you up on a blind date!”

Over the years, you had learnt to tune them out. They didn’t bother you, not really. You were happy in the true sense of the word, and meaningless gossip didn’t change that. You had learnt to work in silence, usually with your Airpods in, letting them out only when your trusted employees came to give you a hand.

You stood in front of your creation one last time, committing it to memory. It had taken you about a week to create all these floral sculptures but now that you stood here looking at the finished product, you felt it was worth it. You spent some more time taking pictures of what you’d made and proudly posted them on your Instagram. 

You felt a sense of accomplishment, as one would feel at the end of a project that ended in success. You wanted to celebrate, have this tiring week end in an exhale. And if you asked yourself, there was no one else you wanted to share this happy moment with but Doyoung. You smiled as you thought of him. You realized that your mind somehow sneakingly thought of him every time you felt a surge of joy. Surely, that had to mean something.

He had said he’d meet you today after you were done and the two of you could celebrate together. You were in a happy daze as you went into the changing rooms to get out of your stained clothes and into something prettier. Not even the women that bombarded you with personal questions while you changed could get you out of your blissful state. You swiped some color on your lips and let them throw questions at you. You answered them on autopilot, just to be polite.  

When you were ready, you went back to your makeshift workstation at the venue and looked at the leftover flowers. White carnations and anemones, an odd combination, but these are the only ones that remained. You put them together anyway and tied them with a ribbon when you were happy with what you made. Doyoung always appreciated it when you brought him flowers. He had joked how it was supposed to be his job, but what could he do when he was dating a florist. So you did all the bringing of flowers in the relationship. ‘He would surely like these’, you thought to yourself with a stupid grin on your face. 

You clutched onto the flowers as you took the bus to your boyfriend’s apartment. You wondered if he had eaten. He had been so busy lately. Maybe you’d get him food when you got there. As you neared his building, you had a sudden bout of self awareness on how you might look. You were dolled up, holding onto a bouquet of flowers, making your way to an idol’s building. You looked so foolishly conspicuous that you almost had to stop to laugh at yourself. You giggled, mentally smacking yourself on the forehead, and took a detour. In your early days, Doyoung had taught you how to get to his building without being seen, because as you would have it, there were always a bunch of people with cameras camped outside, ready to catch a glimpse of him. He had explained this to you so apologetically that your heart had ached for him. 

You would never admit it to anyone, but you kind of enjoyed the thrill of taking a roundabout way every time you came to see him. It made you feel like you were the heroin in your very own spy thriller. You took the back door of the next building and made your way to the fire escape, eyes on the landing of Doyoung’s building. The leap over was narrow and you managed it every time without fail. 

“Success!” You thought to yourself, as you landed, creeping in the shadows of his building till you were finally inside, keeping one eye on the group of people camped outside. “Don’t catch a cold, guys,” you thought, still grinning to yourself as you finally made your way to his apartment on the fifth floor. 

He had told you to let yourself in, so you punched in the code and finally stepped in. “It’s me!” You called out to let yourself be known. You made your way in and saw your boyfriend leaning over the kitchen counter, head bowed over a bowl of something. ‘Good. He’s finally eating’ you thought and walked towards him, giving him a kiss on the cheek “Hi, babe.” you smiled at him, cupping his face from the side. 

You could see that he was clenching his jaw a little and the fact that he doesn’t look up from his bowl of porridge makes you wonder if he’s had a tough day. “I got you flowers, let me put them in a vase real quick.” You say, not wanting to push him. Maybe in a while, after he had eaten, you could hold him and ask him if something was the matter. 

You turned to grab an empty vase, one you had gotten him, and filled it with water. For a while, the only sounds are the gentle rustling of leaves as you place your arrangement in the vase and Doyoung stirring his porridge. Suddenly, you hear his voice, his tone low. “What do these flowers mean?”

“Hmm…? Oh, these?” you give him a warm smile. Doyoung would ask you this every time you brought him something. So you’d make sure to bring him something new each time. “White carnations generally symbolize innocence and pure love. And these anemones… they symbolize sincerity. Although this little guy is stained a little pink, so it could also mean forsaken love. But it’s not it’s true color, so I’m going to let it slide.” you try to joke to lighten the heaviness you feel in the air.

Doyoung looks pensive, like he’s thinking your explanation over. “Forsaken love.” he repeats, like he’s feeling the weight of the words on his tongue. 

“Hmm… but the clients ordered white anemones, I guess this one got a little stained on the way.” you say, trying to keep the tone conversational, but you can feel the air getting tenser, burdening down on the two of you. So you reach out a hand to stroke his hair “Are you okay?” you ask kindly but the words have barely left your lips when Doyoung flinches away and turns to face you. 

Your heart drops. Something has changed, that much you can sense, but you’re so confused. “Doyoung?”

He looks impatient, but not with you. You can tell you’ve found him amidst a battle with himself. Like he was working out his thoughts but you walked in and interrupted and now it’s all messed up. “Don’t you ever want a real boyfriend?” he asks suddenly, looking down at you, eyes distant.

“A real boyfriend?” you repeat, looking up at him. You can’t help the concern that shines in your eyes, even if you try to downplay it. You just want to reach out to him but you dare not; not when he’s protecting himself from you. 

“A real boyfriend.” He turns the phrase over. “Someone who wouldn’t hide you like he’s ashamed of you.” There is venom in his tone now.

“But you’re not ashamed of me, Doyoung.” You say his name, wanting him to hear you pronounce it with love and kindness. “You’re not hiding me because you’re ashamed of me. You’re hiding me to protect me.”

He scoffs then, looking away and places his hands on his waist. Like you’ve said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Doesn’t it make you worry that you haven’t even met my family yet?”

You take a step closer to him but he moves away and your heart aches once again. You can’t help the hurt you feel. ‘But that’s what he wants.’ You have to tell yourself ‘He’s trying to hurt me because he’s hurting.’ 

“Do you want me to meet your family, Doyoung?” You ask carefully, saying his name once again, this time to anchor yourself. You never could say his name with disdain. 

Doyoung laughs. It’s cold, the way he stands there to mock you. But you know him too well. He’s trying to be cruel, to block you out, and a strange part of you wants to know how long he can keep this facade up. “Wake up, Y/N. Don’t you think that if I wanted you to meet my family, it would’ve happened already?”

You look up at him and this time, you can’t hide the confusion that contorts your face. You were trying to be patient with him, trying to keep your calm and kindness while he spat venom at you. You knew he was hurting. You just wished you knew what brought this on. “Doyoung… what’s wrong? Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” You walk towards him, wanting nothing more than to close the gap between the two of you.

“Don’t you think that if I wanted to keep you, I would’ve… I would’ve… Y/N, don’t come any closer.” He blocks with his forearms as you reach for his face, turning his body away from you.

“Doyoung, look at me, please. Please.” You gently plead, still reaching out for his face while he blocks you and keeps moving away.

“Haven’t you wondered why I’ve never taken you out on a date? Why I’ve never been the one to bring you flowers? Why I’ve never stayed the night in your bed? Why I’ve never kept any sign of you in my room? Why I’ve never introduced you to my family?” He’s spitting at you now with his words, one sting after another, but you’re fighting back. You’re still reaching for him and he’s still moving away, he’s still blocking you, he’s still protecting himself. But you can see his walls faltering, you hear the tremors in his voice.

“Doyoung, please, just let me--”

“--Y/N, have I ever even told you you were pretty?” At that, relief washes over you as you finally understand what’s up. Those women. Had they tried to corrupt his mind as they had tried to corrupt yours?

“Don’t you see it, Y/N? I don’t wanna be with you, I don’t wanna be…” he’s breaking now, and you can tell he doesn’t have the energy to keep it up any longer because his lies end in a sob and he’s doubling over, like he can’t hold himself up anymore.

And so you hold him. You put your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek “Doyoung. It’s okay. Baby, it’s okay.” You kiss his cheekbone, you kiss his jawline, you take his face in your palms and make him look at you. You press a gentle kiss on his lips.

“It’s not okay.” He croaks, his chest heaving from the sobs. 

“Shhh… baby, breathe.” You coo at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his forehead, combing his hair away from his face with your fingers. You kiss his cheek and then his lips tenderly, once, twice and a third time. You pull back to look at him.

He falls into you then, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry…” he sobs, and there is such sincerity in his voice that your heart breaks into a thousand pieces. You never wanted to see him like this.

You turn your head and keep pressing kisses to his temple while he remains buried in your neck. “Shhh, baby. I’m here. I’m right here.” You cradle the back of his head, run your hands across his back to soothe him till he calms. 

He takes a deep breath and straightens, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand “I’m sorry.” He says again and you coo at him once more, shushing him, kissing him on the lips.

“You’re so cold.” You rub his shoulders as you notice him shivering. “Come, let’s get you to bed and warm you up.” He doesn’t protest as you take his hand and lead him to his room. 

The house was quiet today and that told you no one was around. Doyoung’s room was as well kept as ever and you smiled as you saw the plant you had given him alive and thriving on his windowsill. ‘No sign of you in my room’ you scoff internally as his words play over in your mind. Doyoung was so bad at lying. You dimmed his lights and got into his bed, lifting the covers for him. “Come here.” You invite him in.

He obeys this time, like he doesn’t have the energy to fight anymore. He gets in, placing his head on your chest, throws an arm around your waist and a leg over your legs. You encircle him in your embrace. ‘He wants to be held.’ You thought and so you held him tight. Like you were trying to take his pain away. You tucked the covers around him, cocooning him in as he clung to you. You stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head over and over, wanting to let him know that he was loved. But you knew that soon you’d have to use your words.

So you took his hand in yours and pressed a kiss to the back of it before you said “I love you, Doyoung. So much. You’ve given me your heart. Don’t you know that’s enough?” But as soon as the words leave your mouth, you wish you hadn’t said them, at least not now, because a fresh pool of tears run down his eyes. You wipe them away with your thumb and kiss the top of his head, tucking it under your chin.

“It’s not enough.” He sniffles. “I can’t give you what another man can give you, Y/N. I can’t hold your hand and walk you home because I’d be worried someone with cameras would follow me. I can’t pick you up after work and take you to the movies because what if someone recognizes me. Fuck, I can’t even let you into my home by the front door. I have to make you jump between buildings and risk your safety like that because I’m such a selfish man and I need you. You don’t deserve any of this.”

Your poor, sweet boy. You press a palm to his forehead “I had no idea you had so many worries in this head of yours.” You muse, a smile in your voice.

“Any other man would show you off so proudly. He would take pictures with you and post them for the world to see. He would take you out to dinner, he would kiss you without fear of getting caught. He would visit you when you had an important day to cheer you on. I haven’t given you any of that. I can’t give you any of that. Do you know I didn’t even know how good you were at what you did until today? Because I can’t just show up to support you. It’s always you making all the effort. You’re the one that has to change your plans according to my schedule. You’re the one that has to come to me all the time. You’re the one that has to plan all our dates. You don’t deserve any of this.” There is so much regret in his voice, so much sadness that suddenly, you’re a bit irked. None of that means anything to you, so why is he feeling that way?

You frown at him now “Doyoung. What makes you think I want any of that? Do you think I’d be with you if that’s the life I wanted? If that was the kind of relationship I wanted?” you try to lift his chin to make him see your face so he knows your words are true.

He looks at you sadly then shakes his head “You shouldn’t have to settle, Y/N. Just because I can’t give you these things doesn’t mean you have to stop yourself from wanting them.”

You’re getting impatient now. Why doesn’t he get it? How could you possibly make him understand? You’ll just have to use your words. You sit up and pull him up with you so you could look at his face when you talked.

“Listen, you sweet, stupid, broody boy.” You smack him lightly on the head. “I don’t want any of that. I’ve never been one to like any of that. I don’t want a boyfriend that’s worried about performative grand gestures all the time. I hate that, and I know you know that about me. I don’t want fancy dates, I don’t want to post our pictures all over the internet. I never did that with any of my other relationships!” Doyoung makes a face when you mention this part, but you continue, “This,” you hold his hand in both of yours, “This is what I want. Just to sit next to you. To watch movies together cuddled on your couch. To come to see you at the end of the day and know you’ll be waiting for me. To sit together and talk about our day. To cook together and have Taeyong make fun of our failed attempts. To hold your hand and just… exist with you. This. This is what I want. Don’t you think that if I wanted something else I would have asked?” You didn’t expect it, but you are irritated at him. This was rare… this was something you hadn’t felt toward him before.

Doyoung’s expression has softened as he looks at you. He sighs “You have to bear so much because of me. I know people ask you questions. People wonder why you’re with me. They make assumptions about you. They spread rumours about you. You shouldn’t have to go through any of that.” 

“Doyoung.” You say, and this time, he’s hurt your pride a little. He has underestimated you. So your voice is serious “Do you think that I’d be with you if I didn’t have an amount of determination? Do you think I lead my life worrying about what people say about me?”

He smiles then, a real smile, an amused smile and he leans over to stroke your head. “That you are. Determined and strong.” He tilts his head and kisses you and you kiss him back.

You pull back but keep his face in your palms. “Please don’t let other people’s opinions affect you, Doyoung. You know I love you. You know I am the happiest I’ve ever been. Who cares what other people say about us?”

He pulls you into his chest and holds you and lets out a deep exhale, like he was holding his breath this entire time and now the worst is past. He holds you contentedly, like he finally believes you are his for the keeping. He holds you like a relief and he can’t stop the swell of happiness in his chest or the smile that keeps growing on his lips. “What have I done to deserve a woman like you?”

“You must have been a saint in your past life. But for now, you can feed me. I’ve had a long day and all I want to do now is carb-load on Chinese takeout that my boyfriend will buy me.” You pout at him, narrowing your eyes.

He kisses the tip of your nose and says “I’ll get you everything on the menu.”

“That’s the spirit.” You pat his chest twice and get up “You make the order, I’ll go set the table.” You say, starting to move to the kitchen but Doyoung grabs your wrist to stop you. 

“Y/N…” he says and stands up, making you turn around to face him. He comes closer and suddenly, your heart flutters. He tucks your hair behind your ears and looks at you so tenderly, you feel like your legs have turned to jelly. 

“You are so beautiful.” he says in a voice barely above a whisper but it washes over your body like a thrilling chill first, followed by the warmth of spring sunshine. It’s stupid, the way you’re blushing like you were a silly teenager and you can’t possibly stop the grin that’s making it’s way on your face. Your eyes are sparkling as they look into Doyoung’s sincere ones. So this is how it felt. Maybe having your boyfriend tell you you were pretty wasn’t overrated after all.

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[ghostgothgeek]

Awkward.

DP Shiptember 2021 - First Date

Pairing: Danny and Sam

---

“Ugh!” Danny groaned as he threw another shirt to his growing pile. “None of these are working!”

“Dude, they all look fine to me. Just pick one!” Tucker picked some lint off his shirt.

“I can’t just pick one! It has to be perfect!” Danny pulled on another button up shirt.

Tucker sighed and slid off Danny’s bed and onto the floor. “It’s just a date.”

Danny almost tore his shirt in half in anxiety when Tucker said that. “But it’s Sam! And it’s our first date! If it goes wrong she’ll suck me in the thermos and throw me down a well or worse - never talk to me again!”

Yes, Casper High’s lovebirds finally got together. Surprisingly enough, it was Danny who made the first move. Sure, he was nervous and had some encouragement from Tucker (and Jazz and Clockwork and just about every ghost or human who would listen to his anxious rambling), who assured Danny that his friendship with Sam would most likely be okay no matter what happened, but he finally asked Sam out. Sam was cautiously optimistic (she wanted to be sure it wasn’t a prank) but finally said yes. And Danny has been a nervous wreck ever since. He asked her out two days ago, and Tucker’s patience was being tested.

“Interesting how you think her not talking to you is worse than being trapped in the thermos forever. But exactly. It’s Sam. She likes you for you. Just be yourself, you’ll be fine,” Tucker reassured his best friend for about the twentieth time in the past 5 minutes alone.

“But myself isn’t good enough for her! She’s so pretty and smart and kind and strong and she has a good heart and she has my back and oh god have you seen her with the Fenton Bazooka? It’s so hot and -“

“La la la don’t want to hear that!!” Tucker put his hands over his ears.

“Well she is! And I’m just dopey Danny Fenton,” Danny sighed and plopped down on the floor next to Tucker.

“Dude, that's one of the things she loves about you. She knows who you are. You guys have been best friends for years. You know everything about each other already. It’ll just be like hanging out, but with kissing or something.” Tucker patted Danny supportively on the shoulder.

“I guess…I just don’t want to disappoint her.”

“You won’t. Trust me. I know you guys will have a great time and you’re perfect for each other.”

Danny’s face twisted into a goofy smile, “you think so?”

Tucker snorted, “everyone and their parrot thinks so and has for years. Including Sam.”

Danny exhaled in relief. “Okay good.” He stood up and reached for another shirt in his closet.

“Just go with the light blue one. It matches your eyes. She’ll love that.” Tucker dug his phone out of his pocket after it vibrated.

Danny looked at Tucker in bewilderment then shrugged and put on the aforementioned shirt. He quickly buttoned it up and stood in front of Tucker, bouncing up and down anxiously. “I think this is the one. I feel ready. I can do this. It’s all good from here on out.”

Tucker rolled his eyes at the text he got from Sam asking for his help choosing an outfit for tonight. She and Danny were definitely made for each other. He shot her a quick response saying he’d be over in ten, and looked up at Danny. “You missed a button,” he pointed out.

Danny looked down and groaned. “Fuck!”

——

Danny wiped his sweaty palm off on his pants and took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. He tried shooing away a bee that was trying to get at the lilies he bought for Sam, but the bee kept coming back.

“No! These are for Sam, not you!” He held the bouquet of flowers over his head thinking it would be out of reach for the bee, then started whipping the bouquet in the air, the bee following the flowers in every creative direction Danny could think of. “Stupid bee! You’re gonna ruin everyth- ow! The little fucker stung me! I’ll show you…” He began to form an ecto ball in his hand before he realized the front door was open, and had been for quite some time. Sam was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and trying to suppress a giggle. She was so cute. “Um…hi. How long have you been standing there?”

“Oh no, please don’t stop on my account. Want to introduce me to your friend?” Sam smirked as she pushed herself up from the door frame so she was fully standing.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck and held the flowers out. “These are for you!” He yelled a little too loudly. Danny narrowed his eyes when he noticed the bee on one of the flowers and let out a low growl.

“Thanks!” Sam grabbed the flowers, blowing gently on the one with the bee (which promptly flew away in response). She admired the flowers with a smile on her face. “Wow, you remembered my favorite flower.” She signaled a butler to put the flowers in a vase and grabbed her purse. “Are you ready to go?”

Danny stood there stupidly. He was just staring at her. She looked so pretty. Her hair was down and in loose curls, lavender eyeshadow and black lipstick adorned her face, and she was wearing a simple black sundress that fit her like a glove until the skirt flowed out. The dress landed mid thigh - which is where Danny’s eyes stopped. He couldn’t believe she was this dressed up for him. He was so lucky! His goth goddess was showing off her sexy long legs for him and he couldn’t help but think about how amazing they would feel wrapped around his waist while he loved on her and-

“Danny! My eyes are up here, babe.” Sam smiled smugly.

Danny blushed as his eyes returned to her face. “You look amazing! So pretty-gorgeous! Your legs and your face and wow!”

Sam laughed at his babbling as a small blush dusted her cheeks as well. “Thanks. You look really handsome too. That shirt really brings out your eyes.”

Danny smiled and noted he would have to thank Tucker for that one. Sam turned around and locked her door, and Danny took the opportunity to admire how amazing that dress made her backside look too.

He wiped off his sweaty palm again and grabbed her hand before immediately letting go. “Sorry! Is that okay? Friends don’t do that but I guess we aren’t friends anymore and no not like that I mean we aren’t just friends anymore because we’re dating you actually said yes to me and we’re going on a date and you look amazing! Nice boobs, I MEAN BOOTS! Well, your boobs look nice too but it’s not like that’s your only asset, and speaking of ass,”

Sam busted out laughing and somehow refrained from ruining her makeup with her tears. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I was nervous about this!”

[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.

[spacewizardtrek]

WARNING: This post will ruin you. Like Medusa; look at your peril.

But here is is. It’s the one you’ve all been waiting for.

Kirk bod appreciation #7: The RIDICULOUSLY BEAUTIFUL FACE. A highly technical and academic review.

This is a rather nebulous one. And not, on the face of it (pardon the pun) very philosophical, as it’s essentially about Kirk being stupidly pretty. This post probably will (it will) descend into just screaming and sobbing, but there will be, I promise, *some* meaningful insight into the meaning of ‘beauty’ and textual analysis of its role herein.

Beauty is subjective. But look at him. It’s not just being aesthetic, but it’s the *way* he’s aesthetic. Here I might repeat myself a bit, but stay with me. I may have mentioned before once hearing him described as ‘beautiful in the way women are often described as beautiful’. He is PRETTY. He is indeed often conveyed in the way the women stereotypically (not necessarily rightly) are on screen: perfect, smooth skin; soft, big eyes; luscious lips (his body is sensually curvaceous and furthermore it’s emphasised). He’s not androgynous though. He’s masculine. And yet I still sense what was meant in describing him as ‘beautiful in the way women are often described as beautiful’. He is a rather uncommon form of gender fuckery. He is a form of stereotype-subversion not commonly acknowledged. He seems to be everything at once, ALL THE GENDER; combines whichever traits he desires from those categories, and yet is undeniably a man and masculine whatever the ingredients. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE, one might wonder. The fact of the matter is, that it IS. And it teaches us something.

The FUCK. nO. You are not allowed to be that pretty, and you are NOT allowed to look at her like that. We’re trying to have a SENSIBLE DISCUSSION here.

Sorry, that was a non-sequitur / nothing to do with what we learn by Kirk’s embodiment; I was just ambushed by my own gif. Only the control of a Vulcan. ONLY that could possibly withstand this onslaught. And even that won’t hold up forever AS WE WELL KNOW

God.

This is going well, as you can tell.

OK. So, it’s claimed he has Eyes and Stupidly Long Weakness-Inducing Eyelashes. You know, from all that fanfic that goes on about ‘big, sparkling eyes’ and him fanning his ‘long, copper eyelashes’. I mean, yeah right, tropey mc tropeface -

IT’S TRUE. HE IS LITERALLY AN ANIME PRINCESS.

There are some moments where he just BLINKS and, how to describe it...how does a BLINK have that effect. It’s NOT ALLOWED.

...I’m sorry. It IS allowed. All of it. I am not shaming you your beauty. Never change, Jim. Never.

OK. I’m ok. 3 pics down, we can get through this -

Oh you are joking. Stop.

I don’t understand how anyone can be so beautiful. Life is a lie. Reality is fake -

- you did NOT just turn your big anime eyes on Spock. You do know this is why he ran away to PURGE ALL HIS EMOTIONS?

And for that matter, you know when Kirk looks his most beautiful? Literally WHEN HE’S LOOKING AT SPOCK. Spock talks some bollocks and Kirk just sparkles like a fucking angel:

Unbelievable. But utterly undeniable.

Sigh. Moving on.

Oh - someone once suggested I talk about The Lips. Lips are so wonderful aren’t they. So many wonderful things they can do.

And Kirk’s. They’re there in every picture: perfect, rosy, soft and madness-inducing. My advice is just...don’t think about them. But since I’ve been asked to draw attention to them, well, you’ve just sealed your fate. Scroll down at your peril.

I WARNED YOU.

I am pulling NO punches.

I’ve seen this great meme going around:

Excuse me though....CUTE?

That’s the understatement of the 23rd century.

Try impossibly beautiful, mind and body: heart of solid gold, soul deep in love with you. Those eyes and all their passion burned into your memories a thousand times over, along with - maybe, suggestibly, idk I’m extrapolating from all the goddamn tension - even the one unforgettable time he laid between lily-white sheets and gave himself to you; every gift of the mind, body and soul - and your ostensibly-forced Vulcan conditioning, that completely ignored how incompatible one part of you was with it, caused so much dissonance that you thought the only possible course of action for you both to survive was to BREAK UP, tear yourself from this beauty and love and sweetness to PURGE ALL EMOTIONS because nothing, nothing equipped you for this; you were set up specifically to fail, and fail hard in the face of transcendental love and beauty by those who rejected such things and didn’t understand you and could never imagine this for you and who instead of helping your beautiful neurodivergent brain flourish taught you to repress and caused you pain and shame and Gol was so hard and Kirk was so sad, so very sad and depressed and hurt and yet he couldn’t stop loving you with a bond so strong he called to you across the stars and Gol was all for naught yet you still didn’t know how to live like this, it was torture, torture until the mind meld with the living machine flashed your BIOS and you knew, love.exe was suddenly running with no errors and he came after you and held you and you held hands and, and -

.

*sobbing*

.

just...give me a moment

.

YOU WONDER WHAT THE SUBTEXT (FRIKKIN’ MAIN TEXT) OF STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE WAS ALL ABOUT???

The pain?? The angst?? The two logical entities seeking contact, love, THIS SIMPLE FEELING? That fucking moment when spock walks on the bridge and the only way he can control himself is to be SUPER Vulcan, while his love gazes at him with those EYES, fucking huge and glittering and hurt and loving?? Is it so much a mystery what memories these two are carrying, what’s behind the searing tension???????

Love him. Love him Spock. Take him in your arms and love him. He’s for you. All for you. Fucking hell guys. The fuck. This movie.

.

ok.

ok I can do this

CAN U NOT

those damn eyes I swear

It’s obviously not all just superficial physical beauty. What IS beauty? Narratively we do sometimes find this ‘prettiness’ enhanced and emphasized like the old vaseline lens to set the tone of a scene (he’s vulnerable and delicate, or someone’s indeed in love with him so we see their ‘lens’ on him); but it is somewhat intangible and nebulous and changeable. I don’t think aesthetic beauty, if one deems it so, on its own, would be enough for the likes of Spock (indeed, no woman could charm him thusly); it's about something deeper. It’s about who he is. Who he is inside: the beautiful AND the imperfect. How his good and bad - how his ‘all’ -  chimes with Spock’s 'all’. The Enemy Within deals with this, and shows how Spock loves all of Kirk, wants him complete, with both his light and shadow. The beauty of all of us is this totality and variance, not one intangible quality.

I’ll bet Spock’s parents knew immediately. Can you imagine Sarek trying to be a total bitch over Kirk, having heard the rumours and just wanting to have one more thing to reject Spock over, immediately projecting onto Kirk as some blow-up pretty-boy and how Incredibly More Disappointing My Son Is for being Obviously In Love With Stupid Illogical Human Doll Face Bubble Butt Bimbo Captain, and Amanda’s like, stfu, let me remind you Kirk is actually a Fucking Amazing Highly Decorated Starship Captain who Saves Your Life and don’t you DARE resent him just because he’s got tits/ass/tum/lips that won’t quit and is obviously the freakin’ sun Spock orbits. Mr ‘I married a human but that was special because it was logical’ or some bullshit. How is Kirk an illogical choice? I mean literally, Spock is a Science Genius™ on the federation’s FLAGSHIP whose well-matched Genius Captain™ understands him, accepts him, brings the best out of him, helps him fulfil his whole potential and is in love with him in the deepest and purest way and will be his bonded soulmate for ALL OF TIME and that fucking sour-faced bih at the start of that ep, ffs.

Of course Amanda stays in touch with Kirk, adores the fuck out of him, sends him old Vulcan lit on t’hy’la bonds (yes sarek, a T’HY’LA bond, so revered freakin’ poets write about it) etc because frankly her son could do FAR FUCKING WORSE.

FAR. FUCKING. WORSE.

Don’t...just don’t slip the bod into the equation, the face is enough for one post. We’re all in therapy for this already, let’s not relapse.

Oh, what’s the use. I’m gonna die. This is it. This is like the Monty Python joke that is so funny it kills you. This man is lethal. I need to stop this thread and purge all my emotions

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

That’s it. I’m dead. You’re dead. We’re all dead.

I hope, however, seeing this post was worth it. See you at Gol everyone.

.

.

The Forbidden Texts, DO NOT READ:

Kirk bod appreciation #6: The Curves. The Front. The...chest. AND THE AMAZING GREEN WRAP

Kirk bod appreciation #5: The Paws

Kirk bod appreciation #4: The Curves. The Back. Poetry in motion.  

Kirk bod appreciation #3: Season 3 (Part 1)

Kirk bod appreciation #2b: The Gluteus Maximus

Kirk bod appreciation #2a: The Gluteus Maximus

Kirk bod appreciation #1: The Tum

[lacharcutiere]

still [sawamura daichi]

1,6k words

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part eight of i’m gone i’m gone i’m gone miniseries. you can only put these things off for so long.

JST: japanese standard time (GMT +9). EST: eastern standard time (GMT -5). EDT: eastern daylight time (GMT -4).

tings // fluff, a little bit of angst, kinda suggestive at the end ?? // i swear this søng is abøut eating øut my best friend's pussy - cøzybøy // dm, ask or comment to be added to taglist ! minors dni.

☾𓆙𓂻

— JAPAN, SUMMER 2024.

the summer passes like this: you and daichi laughing too loudly in busy restaurants and train cars; having arms around each other in the back of taxis on the way home from clubs; making instant udon at three a.m.; walking up and down the neighborhood a hundred times; laying silently side by side and not needing to say anything. it's a routine, it's familiar—it's home.

a couple weeks before you're set to head back to new york, daichi asks you a question as you lay next to him on a blanket in your driveway, staring up at the stars.

"have you decided what your plans are after college?"

"i'm gonna come back here."

"i thought you wanted to go to grad school? you can do way better in the states, especially with a degree from columbia."

you roll onto your side so you can look at him better. "i know. but i've been away too long already. i miss you."

he gives you a little smile. "but i'm right here."

"right here is pretty fucking far from america."

"hm."

"hm."

that's the end of the conversation.

— 2 AUGUST 2024. 23:09 JST.

everything happens the exact same way it has for the past three years: he takes you to the airport. you try hard not to cry; you say your goodbyes. check-in, security, buy some candy to eat at the gate. board the plane. sixteen hours later, you're in america.

one thing was different, though.

when he said goodbye, his lips touched yours.

you don't stop thinking about it for weeks.

☾𓆙𓂻

— AUGUST TO NOVEMBER 2024.

slightly relieving is the fact that amid thesis writing and too many classes and working an internship under one of your professors (that one's nice, it even earns you enough to get a small apartment a few blocks from campus), there proves to be little time to be spent missing daichi.

you finesse your schedule to fit weekly facetimes on friday evenings (new york time) and shoot random texts back and forth about your day between classes and during meals, and without much space for anything else, it's enough. good things are worth waiting for, anyway.

— DECEMBER 2024.

but then winter sem break rolls around and there's no school so it's back to having too much lonely alone time with your thoughts. you write daichi a christmas card and drop it off at the post office. it's early this year, but oh, well.

☾𓆙𓂻

a week before christmas you receive a call from an unknown number. the phone speaker crackles when you accept the call.

“hello?”

“hey.” the voice on the other end is bright, smiley, accented. it’s tōru.

“tōru? what’s up?”

“i’m outside,” he says, “come down and meet me?”

you’re a little confused, but you decide to humor him. “uh, okay, give me a minute… do i need anything?”

“bring a coat, it’s cold out. i’ll be waiting down here.” the call ends.

a few minutes later you push through the doors of the building to be met with a brisk wind and tōru standing by a payphone, grinning.

“do you have your subway pass?”

you feel inside your pocket for it and nod.

“good,” he says. “come on, we’re in a hurry.”

“where are we going?”

“downtown.”

“ohhkay?”

he laughs. “‘s not anything you won’t like, promise.”

you follow him into the nearest subway entrance, lost in thought as you push through the barrier and step onto the train. it's only when he nudges you and says, "this is our stop," that you realize you've been looking at the ground the whole time.

tōru notices how absent you seem to be and asks, "are you okay?"

"i would be if i knew what was going on," you respond.

"yeah," he says, leading you up the stairs and into the terminal, "yeah, i think you will be."

you're in grand central. tōru asks if he can borrow your phone for a second. when he hands it back to you, he doesn't say anything, just takes you by the arm smiling widely and leads you into the fray of commuters that fill the station.

"tōru!" you groan, "can't you just tell me where we're going?"

"magnolia," he replies simply.

"we came all the way here just for coffee?"

"mhm."

"tōru!" he stops walking and turns back to you, trying and failing miserably to stop grinning for a second. "what the fuck?"

"come on," he says, "you'll like it."

"we've been here before! what's so special about—"

"you'll see."

☾𓆙𓂻

coffee in grand central is surprisingly good. it's also surprisingly expensive. ah, well, it's new york. new york has much more to offer than just overpriced cafés.

such as... this. such as a laughing man that leads a remarkably pissed-off looking girl by the arm, towards this stupidly good, stupidly overpriced café.

the pair are weaving through a stream of people, almost there, and then they're there, and the girl is looking much less agitated now. she looks somewhere between crying and wanting to run in the opposite direction. thank god, she chooses the former.

he loves you. so much.

☾𓆙𓂻

"daichi?" you mean it to be a scream but your voice cracks a little and it comes out airy.

he has the exact same look on his face that tōru's had this whole time. "hi."

"oh my god, what the fuck?"

"you said it was lonely, tōru told me maybe it would be nice for you to have a date for new year's, i had some extra money saved up. so i came."

"you— what?" you look back at tōru. "you planned this? just? last minute?"

"nah," daichi laughs, "no, i meant to come visit you for christmas a while ago. i already had tickets and everything, i was gonna tell you but then i got your card and figured it might be more fun if it were a surprise."

"oh my god." that's all you can think to say.

— CHRISTMAS 2024.

you can't even explain how good it feels to wake up and walk into the living room to find daichi asleep on your couch on christmas morning, how good it feels for it to not just be you. the whole time he's been here, though, you've forced yourself not to think about the fact that he's going back home in a week and a half, forced yourself not to do anything just yet. soon, though. just a few more months.

☾𓆙𓂻

when he wakes up, you're making coffee for the two of you.

"merry christmas," he says, wrapping one arm around your shoulders. he places a card on the counter in front of you. "open it."

its message is simple.

you do as it says.

"i, uh, haven't gotten you anything yet, but—"

"daichi," you laugh, "it's okay. and um, i may have also not been able to get you anything. also because i didn't know you'd be here."

"wait, wait, i'm not finished."

"okay?"

"what do you want to do after you're done this year of school?"

"i already told you," you say, "i'll move back home."

"no, what do you want to do? you want to go to grad school, right? continue studying here?"

"no, i just want to stop waiting." you sigh, a little frustrated. "i don't wanna have to keep putting this off, it's been—"

he cuts you off. "i'll be here."

"huh?"

"i'll be here. or wherever."

"i don't get it?"

you've always loved the way daichi's nose scrunches up when he smiles. "you're the one planning on studying more, not me. not immediately, anyway. i'll go with you."

"daichi."

"what?"

"you're fucking joking."

he laughs; you look so confused right now. "i'm not. promise."

"i don't even—"

"hey."

"hm?"

"think you can handle long-distance for five months?"

"uh—" you inhale sharply. "yeah."

"good," he says, "then we don't have to keep putting this off."

it's been five months since you last let your lips touch his. it still feels just like the first time it happened.

— 31 DECEMBER, 2023. 19:36 EST.

he tries not to let you pay for dinner, but in the end, you slip the waiter your card while daichi's in the bathroom. it's his birthday; it's your treat.

and after dinner, there's that new year's eve party that tōru's been going on about. it feels good, so good, not to be there alone. it feels good to watch the broadcast from downtown and count the seconds to midnight as daichi's arms are wrapped around you from behind. the clock reaches zero; daichi kisses you hard. you're both drunk on champagne.

you watch him smile across the room at tōru, who's got his girl on his arm. the two of them look happy, too. everything is warm.

— DEPARTURE: 3 JANUARY 2025. 08:15 EST.

daichi's asleep next to you when the alarm on his phone goes off. you'll miss not waking up next to him for the next five months, but at least that's all it will be.

he makes faces at you in the mirror as you both brush your teeth; keeps trying to tug your sweater off when you get dressed. you spend these thirty minutes laughing with him until it hurts. the two of you take the subway back to grand central; make out in a corner of the terminal while he waits for his train to jfk international to arrive.

"see you in may."

— 21 JANUARY 2025.

taglist: @sakruisin-thru @softetsurou @oligbia

[yn-x-animeboy]

Jungkook x y/n (as a famous artist) Pt.5

pairing: reader x Jungkook

genre: fluff, romance, for entertainment purposes

BTS x Fem Reader

synopsis: You are a popular artist in America, pretty famous, loved and well-known by the general public (actually you were one of the top 10 artists in the world but you are pretty humble and naïve to realize your popularity), one day during one of your fan meets you talk about how much you love BTS, and not only how you wish to meet them and work with them but how Jungkook is one of your celebrity crushes. During the meet you fangirled with other ARMYs in the crowd; video clips of you fangirling and talking about BTS at your meet where posted and reposted all over social media. This obviously broke the internet because you were not only a famous singer but you also were always accepted and loved by ARMY and this made a lot of people happy. Suddenly it felt like everyone wanted you to meet the seven handsome and talented idols and collaborate, but you could only wish, you believed they didn't even know who you were...or so you thought

part 4: here

-----

Part 5- TIME SKIP

(a/n I will do another time skip so it wont turn out to be a 500 part fanfic)

Mini Billboard awards recap:

After the drunken hotel chaotic night you all were late for rehearsals, both your and BTS’s staff looked for you guys’ everywhere in the morning and the last place they thought to look for you all was in Jin’s room. Let's just say it was in general an interesting experience to find eight adults sleeping soundly in uncomfortable random positions. 

You all finally headed to your rehearsals for the performances. They invited you to watch them rehearse when you were taking a break from your own rehearsal. Even though the guys were tired, hungover, and their muscles ached from sleeping all over the place; they did such an amazing job at rehearsal, they were so professional. 

During the live award show your fans and ARMYs lost it everytime you guys would interact during the awards; the fact that you had met them last night and you all seemed to be such good friends now made fans so happy. Once again your name and BTS’s were going viral on social media; a bunch of ‘fancams’ were filmed and posted focusing on you all. 

You and BTS won all the categories you we’re nominated for that night and your performances went great too. That night after the award show ended, instead of going to the Awards After Party, you all decided to not go and instead hung out in Jin’s room again for the night. You ordered room service and champagne (this time everyone was only allowed to have 2 glasses max.).

After being all drained form the long day, you all went to your personal rooms. Jungkook again offered to take you to your room. When you arrived at your door you turned and looked at eachother,  this time sad smiles painted your faces, you had held in the tears when you where in Jin’s room because you felt sad your first real friends in the industry were going back to Korea tomorrow just like that.

Now you were standing in front of Jungkook, the man of your dreams, a literal fantasy that came true all thanks to your fans and supporters; you couldn’t help but tear up at the thought of letting someone like him go. 

You broke eye contact and turned towards the door to hide your tears, a small sniff from behind you made you stop dead in your tracks. Jungkook turned you around and hugged you tightly as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. You also wrapped your arms around him in response.

He loosened his hold and avoided eye contact with you as he was getting more and more emotional, his eyes where red and glossy; he cleared his throat and said “Well I think I should get going, It was so nice hanging out with you y/n- and meeting you, good night” he gave you another tight sad smile and walked off with his head hung low. 

You reached him and held onto the back of his shirt, “Don’t go....” you sniffed and played with the back of his shirt. “Do you want to.. maybe... hang out a little longer? O-only if you want to” you said awkwardly, but he smiled and nodded.

You went to the terrazze you had visited just the day before and sat on the outdoor chairs. You sat there talked all night. You stayed up until you could see the sun slowly rising; you both stood up, taking the sunrise as a sign to go back inside. Before you could even begin to move towards the door, “Y/n, can I hold you one more time?” Jungkook said, he was trying so hard to smile and not make you cry, but his little voice crack as he said it betrayed him. You sobbed and hugged him again, after a while he sat down, sitting you on his lap. You stayed like that until you received a “wake up” phone call from one of your staff members.

----

In the morning you all met each other outside the hotel, the boys said goodbye to you one by one hugging you and saving your phone number in theirs.  They even made plans, comparing your schedules and timezones, so that they could all facetime you daily.

While you waited for your assigned cars to pick you up, you all teared up and  huddled together saying goodbye once again. Paparazzi were peeking through the crowd of security and staff members to get an insight to the sad goodbye. 

----- time skip ----

It has been almost a year since the Jimmy Fallon Show. Even though the distance made everything more complicated, the guys have done everything in their power to make time in their busy days to dedicate time for you. After almost a year of daily video call conversations and catch-ups you have become such good friends, they even call you ‘yeodongsaeng’ (little sister) now; (the only one who doesn’t call you that is Jungkook tho, he calls you by your name or by random nicknames).

They have kept their promise after all this time, they facetime you EVERYDAY, they have never missed a day where they don’t call you, sometimes not all the seven members can be there for the call, but even if there is only one BTS member available, you WILL recive a call from them. 

You also have individual calls with the guys from time to time: 

Jin calls you once in a while when you are making dinner to help you/guide you and or just talk to you. 

Suga calls when he is stuck writing lyrics or creating beats for new songs, or just for musical advice. You are always the first to hear new BTS music now.

Jimin calls when he feels like talking, you have become each other's personal psychologists

J-Hope calls you every couple days to have “lunch together” through a screen. 

RM calls you too to chat a lot, you both recommend each other good books and even exchange lyrics from time to time. He also asks you to revise english lyrics to make sure they sound okay.

Taehyung calls you for pretty much everything: for advice, opinions, to catch up, for help, to keep him company etc.  He always knows how to make you laugh, and regularly interrupts your calls with other members.

Jungkook…. He doesn't just call you “sometimes”, he  not only  participates in the ‘daily facetime group call’, but he also calls you everyday before you go to bed, no matter what time it is in Korea or how busy he is, we always calls and to wish you a good night sleep; keeping you company and not hanging up until you fall asleep. Plus you two constantly text back and forth 24/7. 

You loved calling the guys and catching up with them every day, those calls were the highlight of your day; but every time you got a phone/video call, text, mail, snap, ANYTHING that was sent by Jungkook, your heart always skipped a beat; you felt tingles on the tips of your fingers every time you answer back; you smile stupidly at your phone and even now can’t sleep without your nightly virtual tuck in from Jungkook. 

(Deep down you knew your ‘platonic crush’ had become a real crush but you still denied it because in your mind, still, dating him seemed something impossible, but after every conversation you two have had over the course of almost a year left no doubt in your mind, he was the one for you)

-----

One day, you visited your label’s building, you had a scheduled meeting pretty early in the morning, you had never been this early anywhere, it was currently 5:30 am. and you were just arriving.  Once you step into the meeting room you are greeted by the intimidating group of businessmen and businesswomen who are part of your team. Even though they are intimidating and powerful;  they are kind hardworking people; they really respect you and always listen to what you  want or have to propose. 

Walking in, you are greeted respectfully by them; the boss of the company stands up, gives you a side hug, and opens the chair next to his, inviting you to sit there, after you take a seat and your manager takes a seat next to you too. The meeting begins going over normal business stuff you don't really understand, (Sam would probably just translate the info later into simple words for you.) They talked about numbers, statistics and percentages until someone’s assistant said the ‘important person’ they had been waiting for was finally ready.

 You turned to the door as you expected the ‘important guest’  to come in through the door, but instead his video call was answered and projected on the room’s screen from a laptop. 

You recognized him immediately, he was BTS’s PD Bang Si-hyuk, he was the owner of BTS’s label company. You greeted him through the screen in Korean but he actually greeted you back in English before greeting your team.

the meeting’s summary: 

Bang Si-hyuk talked about how much BTS liked you as a person and as an artist; and how the Hybe Corporation also really admired and respected you.

He invited you to Korea next week to meet the Hybe corporation, and overlook some business proposals

He also offered for you to participate in RUN BTS, while you were there and hang out with the boys if you agreed.He hinted you would be seeing them more often, which made you more confused

You agreed to go and to visit the company and OBVIOUSLY to see the guys, but still, you were confused as to why this offer was being made, why now, why you, why?

After you kindly thanked him, you also asked why he was doing it. You were confused why make such a big deal for you to visit, and what he meant by ‘business proposals’ you were to overlook there.

Bang Si-hyuk tried to explain in short and simple words; he explained that:  Hybe and your label company had had meetings before, overlooking the possibility of merging part of your company under your name with Hybe, they were not only  interested in collaborating with you, but actually working with you. This would give you many more opportunities as an artist and for your label’s name. (your company has connections to other music companies in other countries too, but this time it felt more of a big deal to you than the others tbh) 

In conclusion if you agreed, and signed the contract; you could become part of the Hybe company while staying under your Label’s name

By doing this, it meant: 1. you had an extra contact in Korea (just like your company had in other countries) 2. extra work opportunities (thanks to your Korean speaking skills and influence) 3. possible future collaborations with BTS mainly, plus other K-pop artists 4. becoming a producer for other artists under the Hype record label  (something like what Suge does irl; you are now able to produce or work behind the scenes making music for you, BTS, and others. a.k.a your dream come true) 5. SO ON AND SO ON. 

You asked for the papers and after revising them with your lawyer and team you signed it, satisfied and excited tho what's to come.

You worked hard and finished all of your weekly tasks and even worked on things you had scheduled for next weeks. Before you knew it you were on your way to Korea…

You traveled on your  private plane;  you used it mainly to travel and avoid creating crowds in airports. (this was safer for you, your team and fans.)

When you arrived at Seoul, as you were getting off the plane and looked up after watching your feet as you went down the plane’s steps you saw seven boys stand out from the other people. They ran towards you and huddled around you hugging you tightly, they didn't let go of you, even as you all walked towards the assigned cars and again tightly rode the same car together like that one time after meeting on your way to the hotel. Staff members laughed at the Deja vú they felt as they saw a recreation of that chaotic day a year ago

It felt as if you all had never left each other, no weird silence, or awkward interactions, you all picked up where you left off.

When you arrived at the Hyde building, Hybe bilingual staff greeted you and your team, introducing themselves as the people who would be in charge of our care while visiting.

They took you and the few team members from your staff  traveling with you to one of the floors where they gave your team some temporary office cubicles, so they could do their jobs while away from their cubicles back in America.

The Hybe staff also showed you to a private studio/office next to Sugas’s, it was decorated for you, it was spacious, comfy and waay better than your studio/office from back home. They told you they wanted you to have a personal space where you could hang out or work, since it was probable you would now be traveling back and forth from Korea and the US, due to the new business alliance between your companies.

The guys showed you around the building and introduced you to many Hybe staff members. They all made you feel at home.

You visited PD Bang Si-hyuk at his office and met him in person. He was so kind and welcoming, totally opposite from what you were expecting. He told you how excited he was for you to be part of the team and to work with your company. He also asked you if you could record a short video for his nieces who loved you.

Then, after finishing the tour the guys took you to their favorite restaurant in Korea; they taught you how to eat Korean food, how to properly hold chopsticks and about general Korean culture.

They showed you to the nice building of apartments where they currently lived and where you would also be staying when you came here.

You all toured you apartment and hung out the rest of the afternoon, enjoying each other's company. 

After having dinner and chatting for hours the boys waved you off as they left your temporary home; they wanted to stay up and drink (again Jimin’s and Jin’s idea) with you but they knew you were super jet lagged from the time difference, fighting off sleep as you tried to enjoy your time with the guys.

They lived in the same apartment complex, but a different building, (a lot of famous Korean celebrities stay here too due to the security and convenience)The apartment complex was almost like a hotel resort or a private villa/island, it was huge, it had everything, form tennis courts, gyms, cafés, etc. It was also close to all the major ‘artist’ studios, sets, buildings. 

So once the guys left, all they had to do to get home was ride the elevator down to your building’s the main floor, walk a bit, enter their building, get on an elevator, go up a couple floors, walk a little more and then into their shared million dollar apartment that was a literal castle compared to your apartment. (your apartment was big and luxurious too, but theirs was a multimillion dollar apartment)

You just arrived and felt so at home, everyone was so nice and promised to take good care of you. Nobody looked down at you or your team for being foreign or for being the ‘new guys’. Everything felt again like a dream. One day you are talking about BTS to your fans, the next you meet them, the next you are making contracts with the company they work for, the next you will be working with them; What’s next?

For now you are in Korea for two weeks max. The plan was to introduce you to the company, talk about future plans, projects, etc., and once that is done, go back to America and every couple of months or weeks depending on the schedules, travel back to Korea, etc, etc.

----

You brushed your teeth as an uncontrollable smile painted your face. Once you got ready for bed and finished texting your staff members making sure they were comfortable and well taken care of  after a long day, you heard a knock at the door. You cringed at the noise, you felt as if you were hung over almost, in reality really you were just super Jet lagged (the day before coming here you binged watched a TV show in one night, packed just hours before leaving to the airport and ditched sleep all together before and during the plane ride...stOpid) You stumbled around the unknown apartment with the lights off towards the door; it was not that late at night but who would be looking for you right now.

When you looked through the peephole you recognized them immediately; their hair was now a little longer from the last time you saw them, they had different earrings decorating their ears, they seemed different, still super attractive, but that smile did not change at all, it was still that adorable bunny smile that seemed melt your heart every time. 

You quickly typed the alarm code, unlocked the multiple locks on the door and swung it open, revealing a nervous Jungkook, you had hung out with him and the guys less than an hour ago, but now he was nervous… (he was scared you changed your mind about him after almost a year from meeting and seeing each other in person, he was scared that he was not you celebrity crush anymore, he was scared that the real feelings he had developed form all your daily video calls, texts, random phone calls were not corresponded, he was scared that you had forgotten about those night at the terrazze, he was scared you had changed after a year).

As he stood frozen you couldn’t wait or control yourself any longer and you flung yourself towards him; you hugged him as tight as your body could (during all the time you hung out today you never once had a moment just the two of you alone) but as you leaped and wrapped your hands around him you started thinking about him and how he could be feeling right now and couldn't help but feel a little insecure, (what if he had come all the way back here to tell you whatever happened a year ago in New York at that terrazze was a mistake, that all the calls and texts were just friendly exchanges, what if he came to tell you you were better off as friends or worse.. better of as colleagues…)

It took Jungkook a split second to respond to your hug, you loosened your grip as those thoughts had sworn in your head, and after realizing Jungkook was not hugging you back, so you prepared yourself to get your heart broken… but that all went away as Jungkook wrapped his arms around you, he lifted you a little off the ground as you rewrapped your arms around him, hiding your your face in the crook of his neck. You inhaled his scent as he held you even tighter against him. He rocked your bodies lightly as you held each other in front of your door. 

After, you loosened the hold on each other, but didn’t let go, you looked into those beautiful dark brown eyes you had missed and had prayed to see in person one more time after all this time; He lifted his hands from around you and cupped your face, lightly stroking your cheeks back and forth with his thumbs. “hi” you said, just like that one time in that New York terrazze, “hi” he responded with an adoring smile as his eyes traveled through your face, looking at your every detail, he didn’t want to miss anything, h was so glad to finally see your face in person instead of on a 2-D cellphone screen.

 As you two stood outside looking at each other you suddenly  shivered a little from a cold air breeze that swooped by, it was pretty chilly outside compared to your comfy apartment’s room temperature, it was almost winter; you gently took your arms from his neck and wrapped them around you to warm you up. You had answered the door barefoot, in your pajama shorts and oversized flowy t-shirt without thinking twice. But you then realized Jungkook was wearing a short sleeve oversized shirt too, it was pretty chilly outside and he came all the back to your apartment not wearing a hoodie or jacket. 

“Omg Jungkook it's cold outside why wouldn’t you wear a jacket, jeez” you said as you pulled on his arm leading him inside the apartment to keep him from the cold. “Actually I came back here to get my hoodie back,” Jungkook said. A small “Oh…” escaped your lips as you switched on the light illuminating the once dark room “I see” you again said, almost whispering, avoiding his look as you walked deeper into the room to look for the missing hoodie. You felt disappointed almost, ‘he came back for his hoodie duh, why would he have bothered coming back to ONLY see you’ you though as you looked in the living room, you  didn't see the hoodie there so you then went to the small dining room next to the kitchen to see if it could be there, ‘maybe he took it off before we all sat and ate the take out dinner for dinner’. You spotted the black fabric neatly sung over the seats’s back where JK sat earlier.

Jungkook took off his shoes and tried to catch up with you before you could take the hoodie off the seat and after seeing your reaction to what he had just said; yes he actually did leave his hoodie by accident, but that wasn’t the reason why he came all the way back, so when he saw how your face dropped and heard that reply of yours, it gave him the courage to say why he came back. 

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat before saying “Um, y/n, actually, ‘me forgetting my hoodie’ was just an excuse to come back here and see you again” he swallowed and looked down at his feet. “I don’t really care about the hoodie, I wanted to come here and see what would happen; if you would be excited to see me alone, if you would be glad or happy it was me at the door, you have no idea how bad I wanted to be the first and only one to hold you as you got of the plane, how badly I wanted to run towards you, picking you up and not let go, how bad I wanted to spend the day just the two of us and just- um *clears throat again*”  he fiddled with his fingers, he was so nervous to admit that outlawed he didn't even notice you turning back to look at him as he  confessed. You found his actions to be so adorable and cute.

You giggled and stood in front of him, once you were closer you carefully took his fiddling hands in your left hand and used your right hand to lift his face up to look at you. “Thank you, you made me really happy by coming here to see me, I missed you so much too and couldn’t wait to hang out with you again, I only wished for an opportunity where only the two of us could hang out, but you took the courage to come all the way back here, thank you” you responded to him and his actions with a warm and loving smile that made Jungkook’s legs feel like giving out and heart feel as it could explode. 

He again  observed your face now under a brighter light, he couldn’t believe how your face could look so, or more, beautiful then you face with the light makeup you wore just hours ago. You broke eye contact and spoke, “So um do you have to leave anytime soon?” as you looked anywhere but his face. Your tired eyes and shy tone warmed his heart even more “No, I don’t….. why?” he lowered his face, closing a big gap of space in front of you, forcing you to stop avoiding eye contact and look at him again.

“Well um I was thinking we could hang out again tonight. I could make some…. *you yawn* popcorn and watch a movie, or I could make some coffee and we could talk, or…..” you wanted to keep going but you felt another yawn coming so you stopped talking to fight it off. Jungkook chuckled at your adorable yawns. He  took the hoodie he had forgotten in the first place form the chair behind you and put it over your head. 

“Y/n you are tired, I think it’s best if you rest and tomorrow we could find a way to hang out again just the two of us…” he said as he fixed the hoodie around you, but you cut him off, “Please don’t leave, I haven’t seen you in a year Jeon Jungkook.” you realized how needy and clingy you sounded, but you actually did want to hang out with him. 

You rubbed your tired eye, fixed the hair around your face (your hair was inside the hoodie but some baby hairs tickled your face) and looked back at him, his eyes were wide and surprised at your reaction to him leaving,  “I’m sorry, it’s okay, I get it. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t feel like doing, it’s okay...guess i will see you tomorrow then” you said as you tried to hide the sad look off your face and smile at him. 

He was moved, the fact that you didn’t want him to leave meant so  much to him, he took you face in his hands and kissed your forehead softly, he then kissed the end your your nose he then kissed the space next to your lips, he didn’t want to kiss you and make you feel uncomfortable or taken advantage of; but you being you, immediately spoke as he kissed the side of your lips ``aye that is not my lips...what a tease” in a sleepy tone. He chuckled as he opened his eyes and looked at you. You had your eyes closed, head slightly looking upwards and a smart smile, as you found your own reaction funny. 

He chuckled and blurted out: “cute..”. You opened your eyes to clap back, but before you could even open your mouth and say something back he leaned in again, shuting you up real quick…. but he leaned slowly…..very slowly…..v eee r y slowly…...SUPER SLOWLY, he was taking his dear time, he now discovered he liked teasing you like this. You got impatient and just closed the space between you for him, giving him a short peck before pulling away. This was the first kiss you have had after a year; you walked around him to tease him back for teasing you in the first place. He stopped you by placing his arm around your waist, “Are you expecting me to accept ‘that’ as our first kiss after being apart for a year…” he said. 

“Oh, so I’m not a good kisser? Was that not good enough.. okay… I guess I-'' you played the victim but were quickly cut short by Jungkook pulling the hoodie on you towards him and stealing a kiss from you.

You smiled against his lips at his neediness, but kissed him back as you placed your hands on the back of his head, sliding your fingers through his hair. He slid his hands under your hoodie and placed them on your bare waist, and pulling you even closer. You kissed each other slowly, taking in every detail about the kiss, not wanting to miss a thing; as things heated up you picked up the pace, the sweet kiss turning hungry and deeper. He moved his hands from your waist downwards and your once delicate fingers playing through his hair suddenly pulled softly making him groan against your lips; he squeezed his hands behind you making you whimper against his lips, he used this as an opportunity to deepen the kiss even more; he had lifted his hands and placed back on your sides as he softly caressed your skin under the hoodie, you wanted to to that too; so you slid your hands from the back of his head, down to his chest and too, under his shirt, you could feel his abs tense as your cold fingers lightly brushed against his skin, continuing to slide your hands around his torso, and gently running your fingers on his skin. That action made his breath hitch at his throat and his heart skip a beat. 

The two of you kissed passionately taking the other deeper, not wanting to let go. After a while you both slowly pulled away, breathlessly and numb from the kiss, you both wanted to go further but knew it was not time yet. You rested your foreheads together as you catched your breaths, looking adoringly to the other person, swollen lips, rosy cheeks and curious eyes. 

He spoke first, as he used his finger to soothe the skin under your eyes, “You need to rest y/n, come on”, pulling your arm and leading you. You thought that meant he was leaving, but this time you didn't fight him back; but instead of leading you towards the door he lead you to the big fancy couch in the living room, he turned on the TV to a random Korean variety show and lowered the volume to the point were if there isn’t absolute silence you couldn’t hear a thing the TV was playing. 

You both sat on the deep couch, he lent you his arm behind your head as a pillow as you sat closely next to him, the silent TV and warmness coming from the handsome man next to you quickly started to drowse off. Jungkook planned to keep you company until you fell asleep and then leave you to rest comfortably. 

JK watched the screen as he waited for you to fall asleep. Once he could feel your breathing rhythm became deeper indicating you officially had given in to sleep, he looked down to you and smiled at how adorable you looked, he stared at you for a little longer as he reflected on how lucky he was his once celebrity crush now actual crush was so close to him; he was so glad to have such an amazing person in his life and prayed he never had to be without you in his life ever again; he badly wished he could have you as his and only his but he understood the circumstances, he was happy he could athletes share precious moments like this with you. 

Jungkook shifted in his seat as he was about to stand up to leave you the full couch to rest, but you turned towards him, and wrapped your arms around him. “Don’t…” you whispered against his shirt, you were asleep but your sleepy conscience managed to say that. Jungkook couldn’t resist, he planted a soft kiss on the top of your hair, he then pulled you back with him from a sitting position to a horizontal one as he laid his back on the couch taking you with him without waking you up. He too quickly gave in to sleep as he held each other. 

---------

a/n: I'M SO SORRY for taking so long to update, I had writer’s block and had no idea how to pick up the story, but last night I got inspired hahaha. I re-wrote this part and started writing part 6&7 so wait for those too.

THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT, ILY :3 Xx

PART 6 ------> here

> NEXT PARTS WILL BE BETTER I SWEAR <3

[thewhumperinwhite]

And Then You Kill Me (part 5)

story masterpost

TW for: referenced dubcon; guilt and self-hatred; suicidal behavior; angst and misunderstandings; under-negotiated sexual behavior. Nothing directly nsfw here but it is very much The Morning After.

@whumpitywhumpwhump @favwhumpstuff

----

Usually, the morning after he eats, Karim sits on the roof with a cup of coffee and watches the sun rise.

It’s half indulgence and half penance. He can’t actually drink the coffee, which makes the smell exactly halfway between comfort and torture. And, depending on the…volume, he guesses, of the person he’s fed from, he can only stand the sun for about an hour on a clear day. Though sometimes he stays longer than that, to feel it prickle and burn against his skin. It depends on how much he feels like a thief, how much his mouth still tastes like lies.

This morning, of course, is different.

On the one hand, he isn’t as full as he normally is. It’s cloudy out, but he still needs the sunglasses he borrowed from Diana ages ago, that take up half his face; and he pulls a cap down low over his ears and forehead, too, for good measure.

On the other hand, he didn’t say a thing last night that wasn’t true, and that feels so good he’s almost drunk on it.

There’s warmth in his belly that’s more than blood.

Karim leans forward, cradling the still-hot mug against his chest, and squints down at the street below him. There’s a little shop on the corner, where he goes for batteries sometimes; they sell some simple groceries. Karim’s never had a reason to buy them before. He can’t think of any reason he’d like better than this.

----

Art wakes up with a screaming headache and absolutely no idea where he is.

Which. What he’s learning—what it feels like it’s taking him forever to learn—is that no matter how many times you wake up naked on someone else’s couch and don’t remember how you got there, it never gets easier or better.

And then he does remember. And that’s much worse.

----

Karim pauses inside the door, in the act of setting down the single bag of food and drink he’s bought. He’s just realized that orange juice belongs in the refrigerator, and he doesn’t actually have one of those. He doesn’t eat, and it hadn’t seemed worth the electricity.

Possibly the boy can drink it all in one go? It’s been so long since Karim’s drunk anything that comes out of a bottle, he isn’t actually sure how much—

He’s still standing there, in the doorway, holding Diana’s sunglasses in one hand and the carton in the other, and then a lamp hits him in the side of his head.

It doesn’t hit hard enough to rock him backward, but it does crack in half, and land at his feet in three big pieces.

Karim stares for a moment, down at the wreckage, and then up to the bathroom doorway, where the boy he picked up from the docks is standing. He’s wearing his sweatshirt again, and he’s trembling.

“What was that for?” says Karim. The boy’s face twists.

“We had a deal,” the boy says, and that’s when Karim realizes that the boy is shaking because he’s very, very angry.

“…Huh?” Karim says. It’s the wrong answer, apparently; the boy makes an unintelligible noise and lunges for a ceramic vase sitting on a nearby end table. Karim scrambles to set the orange juice and sunglasses down (Diana likes these glasses, and she’s terrifying when she’s angry) and throw his hands up in surrender. “Woah—Hey wait!” The boy pauses, holding the vase like a grenade. He’s swaying slightly under its weight. Presumably like someone who’s lost about a liter and a half of blood. Karim kind of can’t believe he’s even on his feet right now.

“…I bought you some orange juice,” Karim says, hesitantly. “The internet says it’s good for—”

The boy throws the vase.

“Oh my god!” Karim says, ducking into the kitchen, more by instinct than any actual fear of injury. (He is full of blood and almost indestructible; and also the boy aims like someone who has lost thirty percent of their blood by volume.) “What is your problem?”

The boy gapes at Karim, and has to grab the bathroom doorway to steady himself.

“My problem,” he gasps, sounding like he wants to shout it but is too out of breath. “Did I fucking stutter last night, you asshole?” He presses his hand to his temple and closes his eyes; his head must feel like a rotten melon by now. “What part of dead by sunrise was too fucking complicated for you?”

Karim blinks at the boy. Feels borrowed blood rise into his cheeks.

“Oh, that,” Karim says. “I, um…” He has no idea what to say. “…Sorry?”

His apology—which is half-hearted, admittedly; for once it hadn’t even occurred to him to feel guilty about this—hits the boy like a blow to the stomach, and the boy covers his face with one hand and slides down the bathroom doorframe until he’s sitting in a little heap on the floor. Wearing his still-damp sweatshirt and nothing else, his bare legs splayed out to either side. He looks—small, and less alive, and ah yes, there’s the guilt Karim has been missing.

“—so fucking stupid,” the boy mutters, into his hand.

Karim puts the juice down on the counter. He wants to move closer, but that cannot possibly be what the boy wants right now.

“God dammit,” the boy says, and he turns away from Karim, and climbs forward, easing himself back up to his feet against the wall. “Fuck this,” he says, and then Karim realizes he’s crawling-stumbling-falling toward the door, like he’s going to leave that way, swaying and half-naked.

“Woah,” Karim says, darting out to catch at the boy’s shoulder, “Hold on a s—”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” the boy spits, spinning away from Karim’s touch. His back is against the front door again, like it was when he opened up so sweet and easy under Karim’s mouth and hands—what, six hours ago? Less? The boy is incandescent with rage for a second, his eyes—they’re green, an ordinary alive-person green, shot through with brown, and achingly pretty—almost glowing with it, and then his face shutters like an empty house and he says, voice cold and precise, “Get out of my way.”

Karim hadn’t even realized he was in his way. But the door opens in, so the boy really can’t get out unless Karim moves. Karim holds his hands up instead, leaning back out of the boy’s space.

“Just—just wait a second, okay?” Karim says. He tries to pitch his voice as low and nonthreatening as possible, like he isn’t looming over the boy whether he wants to or not. “Let’s just—can we just talk about this for a second.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” the boy says. He’s supporting himself against the door, but if Karim didn’t already know he wouldn’t guess how unsteady on his feet the boy is; his voice is steady and flat and colder than Father’s basement in January. “It’s my own fault for being so fucking dumb and gullible, fair enough, glad that worked out for you, now back the fuck off.” That last part is said with so much sudden venom that Karim actually does stumble back a step without really meaning to.

“Gullible,” Karim repeats stupidly, like if he can understand just one word of what the boy is yelling at him this will all make sense suddenly. And then—suddenly—it does, and he gapes at the boy.

“Wait,” Karim says. “Do you—you think I was lying?” He almost expects the boy to deny it, except the boy is still giving him that same flat, blank look (with incomprehensible emotion underneath it, disgust and anger and maybe even hurt). “What—why on earth would I have—”

The boy looks at him. There are splotches of color in his cheeks, and his eyes are slightly too bright, and when Karim stares at him he tugs the hem of his sweatshirt down just a little farther, like he’s trying to cover his ass.

Karim takes a step back, dropping his hands to his sides.

“I wasn’t,” he says, nonsensically. “This is—Boy. I swear to you. I did not say a single thing last night that wasn’t true.”

There are big raised welts on either side of the boy’s throat, where Karim’s fangs went into him last night. The boy must have seen them, if he was in the bathroom; his reflection works just fine. They don’t look like hickeys or bruises or anything other than what they are. There’s no way the boy shouldn’t believe him, this one time when he only took what was given willingly, and not even all of that. There’s no way—

“Then explain it to me, asshole,” the boy says, and his voice is shaky with unshed tears. “Explain the world where everything you said is true, and I’m not dead yet.”

Karim wants—Karim wants. Karim wants to reach out and touch the boy. Karim wants to hold the boy gently, wants to wrap him up in something warm and safe until he tells him why he talks that way, why he wants to give his life—this thing he has that Karim doesn’t, that Karim won’t ever again—away so badly his voice trembles like that whenever he talks about it.

“It’s,” Karim says. His Father is always in despair about how bad he is with words. “Well, it’s just—I like you.”

Karim hasn’t told a lie in almost eight hours, now. This isn’t a lie, either.

The boy’s eyes go wide, surprise and then fear and then anger, and then without warning he dives down, flops onto his knees, grabs a shard of the shattered vase, and jerks it toward his own throat.

“No!” Karim grabs the boy’s wrist, too hard; it creaks alarmingly in his grasp, but the jagged ceramic piece falls from his hand and clatters to the ground. He wants to let go—the boy is far too still, his eyes too wide, and Karim already knows his wrist will bruise—but he can’t. There’s too much broken pottery and glass, and the boy is such a fragile thing.

The boy stares up at Karim. He is kneeling wide-eyed at Karim’s feet, and Karim can hear his shallow too-fast breath and his hummingbird heart, and it is almost more than he can bear.

The boy doesn’t scream, though; he doesn’t even call Karim a monster, or any of the other things Karim deserves. What he says, his voice tight, is, “They’ll find me,” and then, soft and desperate, meeting Karim’s light bulb eyes with his pretty dull alive ones, “Please.”

Karim doesn’t let go of the boy’s wrist. He gets carefully to his knees beside him, instead, meeting the boy’s gaze like it doesn’t even hurt.

“I’ve been killing in this city for nine years now,” he says, and there’s fear in the boy’s eyes, but still no fear of him. “They’ve never caught me.”

The boy’s eyes flicker. Karim has no idea with what. But this is the moment. He throws caution to the winds.

“Give me a week,” he says.

The boy stares at him.

“I like you,” he says again. The boy’s pounding heart hasn’t sped or slowed, so Karim keeps going. “You’re—I’ve never met anyone like you.” That’s true, like everything else he’s said, but he knows the boy won’t like it, so he presses ahead, fighting hard not to trip over his words. “I want to spend a week with you. Not to—we can do whatever you want. I won’t touch any way you don’t want me to. I know how to hide in this city better than anyone, no one will know where you are. And at the end of the week—” He swallows; he doesn’t want this to be a lie, but also the thought of it turns his stomach; he makes himself say it anyway. “And at the end of the week, I’ll kill you any way you ask me to. I promise.”

There’s a too-long moment of silence. The boy’s heart flutters painfully, and neither of them blink.

“…a week,” the boy says slowly, after an eternity.

Karim nods, maybe frantically.

The boy pulls his hand delicately out of Karim’s grip; Karim, useless heart pounding, lets him.

“For a week,” the boy says, “you’d better give me the flashiest murder scene in history.”

Karim grins, so hard it almost hurts his face. “Flashy,” he says, giddy and stupid. “I can do that.”

[the-slasher-files]

OC: ANDREI KULOKOVA - NSFW ALPHABET

18 + ahead. Andrei is a freak and I cannot stop thinking about him so he needed this post badly.. hope you enjoy 🔪💕

MASTERLIST

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Usually Andrei is very attentive after sex, especially after a particularly rough session. He will clean you of any blood, kiss your bruises and cuts, stroke your hair and call you his perfect little mouse.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His own favorite body part would have to be his hands and his teeth. Andrei’s hands are very skillful, and he likes to work with them any chance he gets either for murder or for love. The man has extremely sharp canine teeth that he loves to bite, plus Andrei knows it makes him sexier and more animalistic.

Andrei loves his partners neck and back. He goes wild if you have short hair or have your hair up, he will just sit there watching your back and neck as you make him dinner, loving how the muscles move and flex, adoring every bone in your back rise and fall, they’re just so breakable. It feeds his feral side if he sees you faulting the mark he has given you.  

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This boy likes it messy, big time messy. It is almost like an animalistic desire to see you covered in him and even yourself, if you mix a little blood in there too, oh boy, you’ve unlocked feral Andrei. He does also have a huge breeding kink and he will fill you up one thousand times over, finger you watching it ooze and drip, then rubbing it all over you and him. Andrei is nasty. He might even eat you out while your dripping his cum out of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He secretly wants to be a sub but it will take a long, long time for him to get there and be comfortable being a switch. Andrei loves his partners to ride him and that is his submissive side wanting to be released, but he will always act as if he is in control. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Andrei is defiantly experienced in sex, but in a relationship, that’s a bit different. He is very good at sex and he knows it, but he tends to be a little selfish and loose himself, just jackhammering into you. Often Andrei has “fun” with his prey and has paid more than he would like to admit for a good time.   

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, doggy or having his partner ride him. Missionary is by far his favorite, Andrei wants, needs, to feel you writhe under him, he wants you to look him in the eyes as you cum, and feeling your pulse under his fingers.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Andrei is a very serious man in every way, and sex is often very intense, there is no room or enough air to laugh, but after a long time of being together he has a strange silly side to him. Especially if you catch him off guard with a joke he doesn't quite understand, "You are interesting little mouse" or Andrei's sadistic humor comes out when you jump a little too much at the flick of his knife.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Andrei is not a hairy man by any means, so he is very fortunate enough to let his hair go and it is still only a medium amount of hair. Not overly long, curly light brown, but he likes to keep it under control for the most part. Andrei also has a little treasure trail.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Now Andrei has no clue how to be romantic, it is never something anyone had ever shown him, so keeping you alive, living together and sex is his romance. Andrei is very intense in the bedroom and will kiss and love you there but outside of the bedroom, you might have to help him. Intimacy can be hard because he is very touched starved, the small touches and gentle kisses is something that is hard for him, so don’t be mad if you go hold Andrei’s hand and he pulls away. You need to teach him a lot in this department. His favorite thing is holding you though, either sweeping you off your feet or holding you on his lap, man loves it. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Andrei is a horny man who is gone a lot from home so of course he jacks off. Sometimes even if you’re at home he will call you into the bedroom and will just be fisting his cock smirking at you

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This guy has so so many but his top favorites are blood, breath play, knives, predator/prey, breeding, daddy, fear play and bondage. He is a creative man with a lot of time on his hands.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Andrei will literally take you anywhere he damn pleases, from the field to the abandoned buildings to any surface in the house. He lives in the middle of nowhere so why bother trying to hide.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

This guy is horny 89% of the time, so just always watch your back for the wolf lurking in the house. Your new pair of jeans that hug your ass just right? careful. Batting your lashes when looking up at him? watch out. If you really want him to get going, get yourself something sliky and lacy that puts your body on display, straddle his lap with one of his knives in hand, holy shit Andrei will lose it. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Andrei honestly doesn't have many no's and he will try it at least once before saying no. Absolutely no mommy kinks, given his past. Humiliation is a big no, he will never do it to you and you should never do it to him. Overly dominating him in his life, if you are worthy enough to see his sub side only use that in the bedroom, if you take that into every day life by ordering him around or asking for certain tasks done he is going to be very annoyed and pissed off. With you Andrei only wants a few simple things like cleaning his house, making him dinner and cuddling on the couch, other than that you are a free person, he won't try to really control you much. Just don't be stupid by leaving or putting yourself in danger or else his control and overbearingness comes out.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Now Andrei loves to see his s/o writhe, whimper and beg for him. It's an animalistic need. And he is stupidly perfect with his tongue and his hands are extremely skillful. You will have a great time with him going down on you, just watch his teeth if he gets too carried away and he loves to tease and edge so he might be down there a while. However Andrei doesn't go down on you too often because he knows he just that good, and he's an ass. But if you thought just because he doesn't go down on you often means you are off the hook?? Nope. He has a huge thing for getting his dick sucked and he's going to make you do it constantly.. sorry.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Andrei is a delicious, addicting mix of both in a way. He might edge and tease with foreplay for hours but the wolf is going to intensely and roughly ruin you, but if he is switches positions with you he likes to take it slow for a minute just watching you, praising and stroking your hair, probably wiping a tear or blood away, then back to impaling you. It's a true battle between the wolf and Andrei all they time.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is a big fan, mainly just because he is horny a lot and has a lot of work to do. It's and instant anger/stress relief for him. But at the end of the day if you can quiet his mind enough Andrei enjoys watching you to crumble slowly under his hands and go for a long, long session.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is an ex soldier and mercenary, of course he's a risk taker. Andrei, like I said before, likes to try stuff at least once before saying no. Also being with him everyday is a risk in general, with all his knives and blood obsession.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This guy has stamina for days. You would think with all the cigarettes he smokes he would be dead in 10 minutes, but boy were you wrong. His hunts can go on for 10 hours or more sometimes, so you are at least in for 3-5 rounds at a time. If Andrei has been gone on a mission for a month or so and comes home you are not leaving the bedroom (or where ever he wants to fuck you) for at least 2 days.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't necessarily like toys to make you or himself cum but for teasing he will totally be down for it. Andrei rather just use his mouth or hands. Skin on skin is what he likes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Andrei adores teasing so much, he wants to break you down, bulid you back up then pick you apart again and again. He will put a plug in you all day just making sure you're ready for whenever he chooses to come home. Edging you is his favorite past time, he will do it until you cry and he will wipe the tears away and say "you're so beautiful myshka"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is not very talkative in his everyday life but man is a huge dirty talker when getting into it. He also produces wolf like growls deep within his throat creating the most sinful and sexual noise you had ever heard

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Silly drunk Andrei is my personal favorite, and it doesn't happen often at all so take it and run with it. He will start Russian dancing and almost failing over telling you watch him and learn, its very serious to him that you watch. He will also start singing old Russian songs from his childhood, loudly and wildly. Love and cherish this Andrei.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Man is a big boy all the way through, even below the belt. A good 7 inches and thicker than average. Circumcised with a beautiful rosey head, and 2 large veins running the length.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Man wants to go literally all the time. He has an inhuman sex drive. If you just tell him you want him Andrei drops everything and bends you over the nearest surface.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Andrei has a hard time sleeping and winding down. His active mind just will not stop, so he really enjoys just watching you sleep on his chest, being gentle with his hands along your body and in your hair. If you don't fall asleep very fast either now is the perfect time to talk with him, get stories of his missions, Russian folk tales, funny stories about his brothers in the military and brutal childhood. He just wants someone to share his pain and his love with at the end of the night. Run your hands along his scars and in his hair while you're at it and you will have tamed a wolf.

[minyoonmeme]

Normalcy of the Pretty Posse

Chapter 2

Word Count: 3708

Pairing: ??? x reader

Description: Stupid Jeongguk and his cute sweaters and pretty posse of hyungs.

Genre: again like 90% fluff, 5% humor, and another 5% of reader literally forgetting how to function a little

(Some rambling because I have no life: here is part 2! I honestly didn’t expect any one to find part 1 so??? thank you guys so much. I’ve missed writing lately and this has been such a good outlet for me. I hope you guys like it.)

Prev  Next

masterlist

“Hyung…” Jeongguk skids to a stop just before one of the sets of speakers. A whine leaves his mouth as he puffs out some air before tossing his bag haphazardly against a random speaker. “I messed up. Big time.” His legs, just slightly too long for the childish behavior, fold underneath him awkwardly as he flops against the dusty linoleum floor. 

Hoseok looks down at his younger friend as he folds another chair and places it against the wall. “Messed up as in pissing your pants again like that one time Freshman year or getting another C on a test?” Hoseok only laughs when Jeongguk throws a pen from his pocket at him. Jeongguk’s pout settles deeper on his face as his eyebrows furrow and Hoseok knows that whatever is bothering Jeongguk is something a little more closer to the heart than pissing his pants at a frat party after chugging an entire keg upside down.

“Hyung, I’m serious.” Jeongguk closes his eyes and wraps his sweater tighter around his body as he rolls on his left side to look at Hoseok. “You know that girl that dances in the back in your Thursday workshops?” 

“I’m gonna need you to be a little bit more specific, Guk. There are a lot of girls who come here.” Hoseok is only kidding, of course. He and all of Jeongguk’s hyungs know of his crush on the girl who comes every Thursday to his workshops. Jeongguk had originally only come to the workshops because Hoseok was nervous no one was going to come, but that was 2 months ago and despite the sign up list being full every week, Jeongguk still came despite being a little bit more advanced than the beginner classes he attended. Hoseok had offhandedly mentioned that Jeongguk tended to glance at the back, at a particular girl, during another one of their game nights and Jeongguk, wine drunk off of two bottles, giggled as he explained his small crush on a girl who attended Hoseok’s beginner class. 

“Hobi-hyung, she’s not a beginner like have you seen her dance? She just looks so pretty and her hair is just so..” Jeongguk giggles as he wraps a finger around his hair. “...fluffy after she dances.” A small hiccup escapes him as he finishes his glass. “It’s so cute.” Jeongguk, in silent awe, squeals a little into his glass, one of the many stolen from his favorite bar, as he scrunches into a ball and bangs his knee against the table. A smile never leaves his face as he continues to giggle into the fogging glass. 

Hoseok’s heart strings tug at the fond memory he has of his younger friend and decides to leave putting away the rest of the furniture to the workers who litter around him. Jeongguk lays his head against his knee when he sits next to him. “Tell Hyung what happened, Gukie. It can’t be worse than vomiting on the poor girl…..” Hoseok grimaces before giving Jeongguk a look. “You didn’t vomit on her right?” 

Jeongguk shakes his head no before huffing. “I asked her friend last week if (Y/N) was okay since she hasn’t been coming and I don’t know I panicked because like what if I missed my chance to even talk to her. A-and I saw her outside and I walked over and like spoke to her?” Jeongguk knocks his head a couple of times against Hoseok’s knee as he relives the moment in his head. “I was so nervous and sounded so stupid. She probably thought I was stupid and weird for coming up to her. What kind of person asks a stranger if they plan on coming back to some stupid dance class. She probably thinks I’m a creepy ass stalker who watches her dance every week.” 

Hoseok runs his hand through Jeongguk’s hair for comfort as the younger beats himself up mentally. “Are you saying my dance classes are stupid?” It’s meant to be a joke, but Jeongguk shoots his head up and sputters out incomprehensible words. “Guk, I’m kidding. I know you don’t think my classes are stupid, you’re just frustrated at yourself because your first interaction with your crush didn’t go as well as you planned.” Jeongguk flops back down against Hoseok’s thigh as he groans. Hoseok just smiles softly at him wondering how Jeongguk, handsome and all, was someone inept at talking to a simple girl. 

“I may have also lied and told her that you have me here to help out with teaching.” It’s muffled against his leg, but Hoseok hears every word. 

“So you chose to lie, for what?” 

“I panicked! I told her that her coming helped me with the others since she’s obviously experienced. How else was I supposed to explain that I, a complete stranger, noticed she was gone for two weeks? She’ll think I’, watching her or something.” 

“That’s all you ever do, Jeongguk. And besides, I didn’t even notice she was gone and I read the roster every night.” 

Jeongguk smacked his hyung’s hip closest to him as he huffed. “You’re not helping Hyung! Even if you didn’t notice she wasn’t here, she probably thinks I’m a stalker now. A big stupid stalker who can’t even look her in the eyes. I’m gonna be alone forever!”

Hoseok wanted to laugh at him, but decided that he needed to play the role of the helpful caring hyung for now. He’ll let the others clown him later once he retells everything to them tonight. “Gukie, you’re not gonna be alone forever. You’re smart and stupidly handsome. I don’t think you should’ve lied to her, but it’s not life or death, so you should be able to save yourself from this. How about you let your hyung help you a little tonight? Let me work my magic.” 

“You would help me?” Jeongguk throws his arms around his waist and gives a tight squeeze.. Hoseok grimaces from the too tight hug and the dust from Jeongguk’s sweater falling onto his new clothes. He ignores both in favor of giving Jeongguk’s back a few solid rubs. “You’re the best, Hobi-hyung.” 

“You’re on your own after tonight though, Gukie. No more help from your one of kind, amazing, most handsome Hyung.” 

“Jin-hyung isn’t here though?’ 

Hoseok scoffs and pushes Jeongguk off of him as he cackles from the floor. “Go open the doors you ungrateful brat.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Tonight had been… interesting to say the least. 

Yoonjin had chosen to nudge me every time she thought Jeongguk had glanced in my direction resulting in a dull throb in my ribs. 

“Don’t look but he’s looking again… Oh my god, I said don’t look!” 

“You said that the last 4 four times and every time I look back he’s literally looking at Hoseok-shii.” I huffed and rubbed at my right side. Yoonjin has always been stronger than she looks. “Yoonjin, if you ram your boney ass elbow into my ribs one more time I will drop kick you into the wall.”

Yoonjin blinked at me before rolling her eyes. “He keeps looking away. Just trust me why don’t you! Why would I joke about this.” I rolled my eyes and refocused on Hoseok as he explained some of the footwork again. House dance had never been my speciality. 

“I don’t know, maybe you like to see me suffer.” 

“I’m literally trying to help you get a man.”

“No, you’re trying to break my ribs.” 

9 o’clock rolled around sooner than I expected as Hoseok wrapped up his lesson. Many of the students who endured the class in its entirety were shuffling to the walls of the room where their water bottles had long ago since turned lukewarm. Hoseok was not one for lots of water breaks. Used to long durations of exercising and cardio, I had chosen to hang back and stretch out while Yoonjin made small talk with the others around her. I held in my laugh as she shot me a look or two of ‘what the fuck is going on’ and ‘please help me’ while talking to the animated girl with sweat drenched pink ponytails. Figuring that whatever kind of conversation she was wrapped up in was payback enough for the bruising I was sure to have on my ribs for the next week, I chose to let her suffer. 

“You know I think you’d do a lot better in a higher level class.” There stood Jung Hoseok in all his beautiful glory as I attempted to straighten my legs from their lunge. I tried to blame the jittery feeling settling in as adrenaline from the cardio, but I knew my body was just buzzing from having him stand so close. Did he even sweat? How did he manage to smell like fucking flowers after dancing? Damn Jeongguk and his pretty posse. 

“Uh sorry?”

Jung Hoseok smiled and offered a hand to me. I smiled back, although less brightly, and hoped my hands were not as sweaty as the rest of my body. “I just meant that you seem a little more experienced than what this class has to offer. It’s a shame to see talent be wasted on some basic combinations.” His eyes took a quick over my body and I flushed at movement. If he looks at me like that more time, I will be internally combusting. 

“I-uh used to dance growing up.” My hands gripped my shirt as Hoseok proceeded to make eye contact. Does he have to be so nice and beautifully intimidating? A deadly combo for my poor nerves. Do I look away? Is it rude to keep eye contact? Would a wink be appropriate for a first conversation? 

“How long did you take lessons?” 

“Like 14 years maybe? My mom tried to put me in baseball like my brothers when I was 4, but after I started spitting and grabbing my pants before I batted she decided it probably wasn’t a good influence to be surrounded by all boys at home and during practice.” My lips pressed together as I pinched my face in horror. Oh god, why did I say that? Hoseok on the other hand was having a jolly good time as dropped his jaw and choked in a fit of laughter and I screwed my face shut in embarrassment. “I don’t know why I said that. Oh my god, please forget I just said that! I’m just nervous and I say stupid things when I’m nervous. I’m an idiot and I just don’t know how to shut up sometimes.” 

Hoseok continued to laugh as I covered my overheating face with my hands wishing I had grabbed Yoonjin and left before we both got wrapped in unwanted conversations. “Y-you’re too cute. Oh god, I can totally see it!” Hoseok laughed for a few more breaths before settling down into giggles. 

“Hyung...? Is everything okay?” Jeongguk shuffled over with both his and Hoseok’s bags as he glanced between Hoseok and I. 

Hoseok giggled a few more times before accepting his bag from Jeongguk. “I was just just asking if...”  Hoseok titled his head before looking back at me. “I forgot to ask for your name actually, I’m sorry.” 

Not used to having 2 out of 7 members of Jeongguk’s Pretty Posse’s attention on me made me flush even warmer. “No worries, I’m (Y/N).” 

Hoseok smiled at me before swinging his bag on his shoulder and went back to addressing Jeongguk. “I was just complimenting (Y/N) on her dancing. We could do with another dancer on the team don’t you think Jeongguk?” 

“We could?” Jeongguk bugged his eyes out a little at his hyung before throwing a confused look his way. 

Hoseok raised his eyebrows and tiled forward a little bit. “Of course, we could Gukie! Remember we had that talk earlier about adding a new member? Junhoo graduated last semester, so we don’t have anyone to fill his spot.” Jeongguk stared at Hoseok wondering who the hell Junhoo was and when this conversation happened. Hoseok starred a little harder before-Oh! “How about you let your hyung help you a little tonight.” 

“Yes! You’re totally right Hobi-hyung! (Y/N), you would love our dance team! You’d fit right in too!” Jeongguk bounced on his heels a little as he turned to me. Back on was the sweater he had been wearing earlier. Damn. The sweater paws have returned too. 

“Isn’t it all guys? How would that even work? I’m literally like half Jeongguk’s size.” My glance danced between Hoseok and Jeongguk as I bit my lip. 

“Where there is a will, there is a way (Y/N). And I’m sure you won’t pick up any bad habits this time (Y/N). We’re all mannered and hygienic, so no worries!” My jaw dropped as Hoseok poked fun at my previous story and raised his eyebrows at me. That little-

I scoffed and stomped my foot to turn his direction fully. “I wasn’t even talking about that! I can’t believe you! I let one thing slip and you use it against me!” I jutted my lips out in a slight pout as I crossed my arms. 

Jeongguk deflated a little as he watched Hoseok’s teasing glance and my pouting. “Am I missing something?”

“No!” 

“Yes!” 

My finger found a place on his chest as I leaned closer. Are those pecs…?  “Jung Hoseok, you keep your mouth shut!” Those are definitely pecs. 

“I will if you join our team.” 

My mouth fell open as I removed my finger with an inaudible gasp. “I see you play dirty, Jung.” I tsked at him before turning to Jeongguk. “Get your hyung before he embarrasses me more and I combust.” Jeongguk blinks as I give him my sole focus and nods softly, most likely lost on what’s happening. 

“So if that is a yes?” 

Defeatedly, I face Hoseok and shrug my shoulders as I grab my bag from Yoonjin as she approaches. “You’re in luck. I was actually looking to join something a little more advanced dance wise. My body misses dancing despite how old it makes my bones feel.” 

“So.. is that a yes?” Jeongguk reiterates as he bounces forward a little, eyes wide as his hair flops a little. I smile a little as my heart flops along with his hair. I give Hoseok a quick glance and will the oxygen to return to my lungs and brain at the focussed look he gives me. 

“It’s a no.” My heart sinks at Jeongguk’s sudden smile. “Not that I wouldn’t join; I totally would! It’s just I have to find a music production mentor for my Music Composition and Engineering class and I’m basically meeting with strangers every other day until one decides to take me under their wing. I really need this class to graduate and I can’t afford any breaks until I find someone.” My hands are flying everywhere as I try to make my rejection lighter on Jeongguk. 

Jeongguk nods a little and licks his lips as he gives Hoseok a quick glance. Hoseok seems to understand whatever is going on in his head and tilts his head toward him with a hard look as a warning to think before you speak, you love sick idiot. Jeongguk, with a heart often bigger than his brain, ignores his hyung and blurts out, “Yoongi-hyung is a music producer! I can introduce you to him and see if he’d be willing to mentor you.” 

Hoseok closes his eyes and drops his head forward into his hands. Dammit Jeongguk. 

I blink a few times before trying to stop my smile from spreading. “Are you sure? I mean I’d really appreciate it of course, but I know it might be a lot to ask. I’m also a total stranger, so you don’t have to at all!” My mouth suddenly feels dry as I lick my lips. “It would be really great though! Some of the guys I meet are total creeps and I don’t know how many coffees I drink everyday while one of them tries to feel me up.” I force a laugh to lessen my discomfort and hope it comes across as less awkward than I feel. 

Jeongguk looks to Hoseok after I’m done exhausting my voice and they seem to share a meaningful look before Hoseok reaches into his pocket. “Here, give me your number. Jeongguk and I will talk to Yoongi-hyung and see what we can do. He might be willing to meet with you and see if you guys ‘vibe.’” 

My eyes flick up to meet his as I smother another smile. My attempts fail and I grab his phone and giddily put in my number. “You guys are the best! I promise to join you guys if I can resolve this whole mess.” My grin widens as I think about not having to stifle through conversation after conversation every other day in some overpriced cafe with another self employed music producer as they critique every layer of my pieces. “Do guys like cookies? I’m totally baking you guys some cookies as thanks!” 

“Are you ready to go (Y/N)?” 

“Yoonjin! We’re going to be baking cookies for Hoseok and Jeongguk!” Yoonjin furrows her eyebrows as she loops her eyebrows with mine. 

“We are?”

“We are! Is chocolate chip okay?” I offer her no other explanation as I ask Jeongguk with a sweet smile. These pretty boys were coming in handy and so were my depressive episodes’ baking habits. 

“Chocolate-chip sounds great.” Jeongguk licks his lips as he feels his heart rate border an unhealthy pace. “Hyung, we-uh should probably head out and go pick up your package.” 

“My package?” Hoseok finishes adding a baseball bat and a flower emoji to his new contact before catching the look Jeongguk is sending him. “Oh! Yeah, uh, I’ll have Jeongguk text you about Yoongi-hyung. It was nice meeting you (Y/N), get home safely!” 

Yoonjin and I watch them both leave the room before facing each other. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

“I honestly have no fucking clue, but I think I’m gonna die. Please check my pulse.” Yoonjin feels at my neck and sighs. 

“Nope, still alive. Maybe next time though.” 

I re-loop our arms and pull her out of the emptying room. “Come on we have to go get Chaebin from the library before she has another aneurysm over her homework. I’ll fill you in on the way there.”

Yoonjin shrugs and follows along. “I hope you know that if this progresses into some dramatic fated love story I will be living vicariously through you.” 

“I expect nothing less.”