#sangria drabble

[suguru-getos]

-> happy birthday toru 💗

this is mostly a very personal concept to me but i just love the idea of this. happy birthday to the loml satoru <3 and to @literallythestrongestever my angel my baby 🥹🥹

this drabble contains violence, and abuse, and a lot of healing and comfort after. it takes you through a journey of the reader accidentally switching and shifting in realities from her toxic, abusive and psychotic husband gojo to the one she lives in currently.

the squelching sound of a stabbing wound, how it feels as if you were witnessing it first hand. as if you were in the depths of hell. a man you don’t know, gutted you. the pain— why isn’t it paining— is she already dead? why isn’t the ache registering into the marrow of her bones, the essence of her soul.

no— wait! it’s satoru— he looks different, wait— where is she again? the scenaries change faster than her mind can process. overwhelmed, brain begging for mercy. satoru— yes, her husband— yes— gojo satoru— why are there so many lights— focus, she needs to focus. it feels like death, it feels like drowning in an endless dark trench of nothing. a black hole sucking her life, scraping her marrow with a spoon as she watches from outside.

sounds— spoons tinkling, smell— the smell of kikufuku, the sound of nails against a board. make it stop— satoru?

satoru…

satoru gojo…

yes, yes, he will… he will ground her. he has to, he said he will. he’s going to no matter what. yes, she should-

satoru is sitting next to her, watching her keen eyed as she wakes up from a long, disturbing, forced slumber of mind amputation. humans shouldn’t be forced to the infinite void. he knows that. but she — she’s so fierce & she’s so strong she doesn’t bend to his will. and sometimes it’s better she just shuts up. for good… not with death though, he can’t see her die. he can’t see her live either…

there is a sickening guilt that eats away at his thumping heart, when her eyes meet his, the life beneath them needs searching. buried deep. and his icy blue eyes hate the sight. he hates what she makes him… “i am so sorry, babycakes… i didn’t mean to get mad.”

when people get mad, they yell, they scream, they— depict in ways which are human. how is an honoured one supposed to depict he’s angry, disappointed…. the consequences wouldn’t be so humanly either. she wonders why are there consequences even? isn’t love all about acceptance? isn’t that why she married him…

the next thing she remembers is something that makes her scream in agony, vocal chords strained from the trauma of it all. satoru couldn’t let her get away with trying to escape now. no one could help her. especially when he has ao, aka, kyoshki murasaki at disposal. or maybe he just needs to hold her tighter, watch the audacity crumble right with her bones. fragile & weak, human, delicate….

his eyes, always expressive, show no signs of remorse, or relent. “what? can’t face the consequences after what you do?” why does she dare to run— and challenge— and go against him, the god? gods don’t punish with a slap across the cheek now do they?

she knew, whatever their souls were made of, satoru’s soul didn’t belong to her. “i would be gouging your eye out, an eye for an eye. hmm? don’t you think it’s fitting since you want to hurt me by wanting to die?” the scene shifts, that’s all her life has become. a series of scenes… of shifts… until one day, she did choose death. chose to beat the hollow purple and the infinite void and everything else that comes with it if she were to escape.

watching the blood drain out of her body, with such an eager desperation & passion to lose herself. the sense of what made her alive. the heart. the stupid heart that fell for satoru gojo.

it felt like the sweetest slumber, the one that lulls you into silence when you sip on a little sangria, or when you eat something sweet. or when you live in a world without worries.

only… when she woke up, something had changed. she was in a different room. shit—

“hey- fuck she’s awake!” her heart sinks, the melted honey like voice was much too familar. she glanced over the man, who was grinning ear to ear. the deep, rubble akin chuckle escapes from his parted, beautiful lips. “champion really!”

satoru hates that this girl he doesn’t even know, but saved from a curse — looks so akin to wilted petals…. meanwhile, she doesn’t know where she is, this reality feels different, something intangible about it. to him, she looks around. pursing her lips, eyeing satoru’s fingers for the familiar marriage band, eyeing hers… she doesn’t have it either.

“my name is gojo satoru.” he spoke again, watching her flinch. yes, yes, she knows. she has brandings of satoru in several forms in her body, in her psyche. “i am… y/n.” she mumbles, she doesn’t know if this is just a plot by satoru to pretend that nothing happened.

“are you married?” the next question takes the man off guard. there was no sense of anticipation behind those eyes— just, dread. “jeez i know i’m pretty!” he giggled, headpatting her gently. “nope, single as a pringle. but don’t worry, we could go on a date once you get better pretty girl.” that was smooth, very unlike her satoru… there was no pressure she felt.

maybe she was choosing a familiar hell than an unfamiliar heaven all over again. maybe she’s dying and these are the last few memories in her head. her eyes are heavy again, this time satoru holds her hand. the touch so different, it’s satoru… but it’s different. “sshh~ it’s okay, go to sleep.” his voice balms.

and she’s awake again… definitely not dead… “i don’t know why i’m keeping a watch over you honestly.” he hums, the eyebags visible from strain. he doesn’t look like he has slept in days. “but i want to.” he expresses. and like it was second nature to her, a fool’s nature— the nature of a broken heart of being the more loving one, the words just come out in a silent plea. a desperate attempt of an abused child to apologize hoping there wouldn’t be any consequences. “sorry— m’ just a bother— toru.”

satoru has never heard anyone call him toru. the gentle tone, the submissive venom he wants to suck out of that. “hey— i’m not complaining.” he pouts, looking at her, easing into her frantics by a smile. “besides you’re just so pretty i couldn’t keep these eyes off ya!” he doesn’t know why he’s behaving like this, women… don’t really mean much to him. he has a job, a busy schedule. he doesn’t understand how this woman he found during a mission, enclosed in a curse’s womb, is making everything stagnant.

she blinks at him like a nervous cat this time, until her tummy decides to roar and make hungry noises. the holds onto it, pouting softly, a tender flush spreading across her cheeks like butter on warm toast. “heh, s’ okay little one. what would you want to eat mhm?” satoru asks, noting that her brain didn’t have the capacity to think. maybe being enclosed in a curse does that to you. “i think.” he clicks his fingers, “you’d loveee a nice nutritious sandwich.” he croons, leaning in. again, not missing the flinch.

he is quick to lean back, the flinching hurts. it hurts like his person was harmed. it hurts like he trusted his pet with someone and found them injured later. it hurts like battery acid in his throat. “yeah?” he smiles again, just wanting her to say something.

tears sprawl across her cheeks. “m’ sorry satoru. please don’t be mad.” she says it with such conviction & confidence that satoru is mad. he isn’t. he would never be… she says it like she knows him. “hey— sweetheart, what’s your name?” he knows it’s too much, too soon— but his hands feel like they’re corroding in acid and she’s the only thing that could stop it. he has to cup her cheeks softly, “i’m not mad at you, why’d i be mad at you?”

she doesn’t answer, heart racing, a bead of sweat forming at her forehead. “satoru please-“ she wants him to stop playing with her. lips wobbling at the grief, the fear and the crumbling anxiety rising with every moment. she leans in, like a toddler hugging their caregiver if they’re caught doing something naughty to escape the consequences. clutching at satoru, bawling, again — akin to a toddler. “please toru— didn’t think- much— please it wouldn’t happen again i’m sorry—“

satoru doesn’t understand anything, and also understands something. “do you know me?” he asks, voice low, calm, careful. strong arms caging her in a tight, yet kind hug. delicate…. she’s so… fragile and delicate, like a precious ornament.

“i don’t know what’s happening—“ she exclaims, tears irritating those beautiful eyes. reddening up. “it’s okay—“ satoru coaxes again, gently rubbing her back. “you’re okay, i’m not mad at you. i would never be mad at you.”

“….i promise y/n.” that is such a big promise to keep if he wants to actually see his entire life with her. something he just decides on immediately. no questions, or doubts… or discrepancies… he knows he would keep his promise. “even if you do hurt me, i wouldn’t be mad at you.” he says it with the matching conviction of her beliefs of satoru’s rage. it calms her down. and satoru has never felt happier. he has never felt this exhilarated…. not even when he won over special grades.

one thing about satoru gojo, he always walks the talk. he means it with the heart. even when he said he would keep her happy, even when he hugs her through nights she can’t sleep, even when she repeats endlessly about what happened to her, with her. with an alienic version of him from a different reality, even when she rejects him & he lets her exist while still flooding her life with unbounding love. even when he confessed about wanting to marry her, and wanting to love her to excruciating happiness.

what’s a man ready to move mountains against trauma? an unstoppable force.

“s’ less sweet!” her five year old daughter makes a face. she is the perfect dna copy of her father. gorgeous blue eyes, silky white hair. the same gentleness with the way she treats her mommy. it’s all learnt from daddy after all.

“oh honey is it?” she tastes the cake batter, shuddering. both her daughter and her now husband have such a sweet tooth. “daddy’s birthday needs to have sweeter cakes uh nu!” she chuckles, kissing her forehead and adding a generous amount of sugar. “daddy’s gonna be so happy mama!” she gleams again, at her mother. who was nodding happily, just remembering what life used to be and what life is, now.

she married satoru again, although this time it didn’t come with insanity and violence. satoru was patient, didn’t touch her for two years, just sweet lovesick kisses and nothing else. she knew he yearned but the smile on his face would almost make her think he’s happy with just what he gets…

her phone buzzes with a call, immediately rushing and picking it up. “toru!” the gleam of her voice and the intensity of her is back.

“princess!” he whines over the phone, “i miss you soooo much oh my god—“ he hums, chuckling when she giggles, “you are just out to get candies, not even five minutes are gone—“

“i missed you!” satoru repeats again, “take me seriously i am dying here!”

“happy birthday toru, come home so i could kiss you, then you’d decide if the candy’s sweeter or the cake.”

the moments these words parted from her throat, she feels a familiar gust of wind, satoru is impatient and would teleport sportingly over shorter distances. “mm~ my lady, m’ here for the kiss.”

his hand wraps around her waist, locking her body against his. delicate… his fragile little princess. she gets on her tippy toes, brushing her lips against his with a hum, whispering gratefully. “happy birthday toru.”

“thank you, my present.”

a familiar tiny foot stomping is heard, “where’s my kissies?” their daughter tugs at daddy’s pants. satoru picks her up as if she weighs nothing, (she does not) and peppers her entire face with kisses. the sound of child like giggles fill the room, followed by the soothing aroma of baking satoru’s favorite cake.

satoru.

satoru gojo.

yes, yes, he did… he did ground her. he had to, he said he will & he did it! he’s going to no matter what. yes, she should— she should just live now. she doesn’t need to survive anymore. <3

[hyunverse]

11:52pm — hwang hyunjin.

no warnings. fluff. short drabble.

disclaimer — © 2023 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

the feeling of clean sheets against your lotioned skin, and the pages of your favourite book between your fingers is what defines home. the room is at the right temperature, allowing you to relax against the bed headboard. your hair smells like coconut shampoo, the room like vanilla. the only thing missing would be hyunjin.

you figure he's stuck at practise. for the past few months he's been preparing for a new comeback — the only times you get to see him is the moment you wake up and before you sleep. you sigh, missing the feeling of his lips against yours.

the bedroom door opens, revealing a tired hyunjin. speak of the devil, you think. your body straightens at the sight of him, then slumps back down once you could clearly see his facial expression.

"baby?" you ask, tilting your head as you shut the book, placing it on the bed.

"tired," is the only word he could muster.

you don't push. he's not in the right headspace to talk — you understand. you merely lay back against the headboard, optics following his every move. just in case he needed help with something.

hyunjin quickly discards his clothes, allowing them to pool between his legs before tossing them into the laundry bag. even while frustrated he has the heart to think of you — to not do anything that'll burden you. if he was still living in the dorm, he'd simply toss them to the corner of the room. you smile at the thought. then, he takes off his wedding ring and places the silver material on the vanity — he's learned from his mistake. last time, he almost dropped it into the drain while showering. never again.

you absorb yourself back into your book once you hear the shower running. some giggles escape your mouth at the humorous parts — you’ve forgotten the joy of reading a book lately, busied with your daily life. you don’t realize hyunjin coming out of the bathroom, only a piece of towel hanging on his waist. droplets of water drip from his black hair. he pauses to watch you, admire you — and suddenly his exhaustion starts to disappear. he hadn’t been able to see you doing mundane things lately, and now, his heart feels warm. the person he works tirelessly for is sitting before him — lovely, and awaiting for him. despite being overworked to the bone, he had a far better life than most people. to be wed to you is the only life he would want in this life, and in others.

hyunjin crawls into bed after putting on a pair of black shorts. you could feel his presence before you could hear him — he hovers himself over your body, your thighs in between both his legs. the book you were reading is tossed to the side by him. you whine, but it is silenced by his lips on yours.

“missed you, my love,” honeyed confession drips past his sangria lips, “you’re so beautiful.”

his hair feels soft against your fingertips. you hum at his words, feeling your cheeks heat from them. you fiddle with the pendant he had gifted you on your second wedding anniversary, the material cold on your skin. hyunjin kisses the thumb on the pendant, and then your forehead, your nose, and your lips.

you feel so full of love, you could burst.

he settles himself on your lap, abandoning the fact that he’s a fully grown man. you’re not phased, far too used with his antics. instead, you pull him closer, so, so close that his limbs become a part of yours.

“i love you,” he mumbles, nuzzling his head into your neck, “i love you so much.”

you lean your cheek against his head, “i love you so much, too.”

the heat of your body against his porcelain one, the smell of your shampoo — this is what hyunjin defines as home. he litters kisses on your neck, never-ending love ballads slipping past his lips like running water. his hands are everywhere on your body, feeling every part as if he’s making sure that you’re real.

“you did so well today, jinnie.”

that’s all that it takes for his doe eyes to be hot with tears. he takes a deep breath, breathing you in, fingertips desperately clutching on your waist. he needs to go to sleep. he has to wake up in four hours but for now — for now, he allows himself to fuel himself with you.

just a little more, hyunjin thinks.

just a little more.

taglist (send an ask to be added) — @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @bakugossanity , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel , @bbujiikseu , @asters-abditory , @byjeekies , @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @strayingawayy , @cb97whoree , @g4m3girl , @jeonginwrld

[thedroneranger]

Daggers on Draught: Open Bar 🍻

Daggers and your requested drink combos! Shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse @roosterforme @sylviebell and @beyondthesefourwalls for inspiring Open Bar 🥂

The bar is CLOSED. Drink up the OG Daggers on Draught, Drinking Drabbles and Craft Edition.

Also follow @love-in-light as she crafts cocktails based on this series!

Amelia

• Cherry Limeade (na) | Cherry Crush

Bob

• Angry Orchard | Apple of Your Eye • Aperol Spritz | Buon Compleanno • Arnold Palmer | Homegrown • Moscato | Fall for You • Old Fashioned | Bobby After Dark • Peroni (0.0%) | Love Language • Pina Colada | Beach Bob • Pink Lady | Pretty in Pink • Screwdriver | Breakfast & Bob • Stella Artois | Gift of One-liners • White Sangria | Happy as a Clam

Coyote

• Aviation | Laissez Le Bon Temps Rouler • Prosecco | Coyote Casanova • Cabernet Sauvignon | Uncorked Coyote • Margarita | Hot Up in This Joint • Sazerac | Good Libations

Cyclone

• Brooklyn | Checkmate • Gin & Tonic | Everything is Blue • Sazerac | Night Moves • White Russian | Heart of a Cyclone

Fanboy

• Bellini | No. 1 Fan • Bramble | I Feel the Need • Cayman Jack | Later, Gator • Hurricane | The Night is Calling • Moscato d’Asti | Shining So Bright • Pacifico | California Sunshine

Hangman

• Angry Orchard | Cider House Rules • Body Shots | Licked It • Captain Morgan | Adventure is Out There • Gin & Tonic | Gin & Jake • High Noon | Let's Go Girls • Jack & Coke | Save A Horse • Jack Daniels | Gentleman Jake • Margarita | Drinking in a Winter Wonderland • Maker's Mark | Marksman • Mimosa | Yuletide Greetings • Mint Julep | Cashmere, Cologne & Hot Sunshine • Paper Plane | It's Not the Plane • Pina Colada | Ride the (Heat)Wave • Ranch Water | Ranch Hand • Sex on the Beach | Cake by the Ocean • Tia Maria | Nigthtcap • Tequila Shots | Tequila Little Time • Whiskey Sour | Bon Voyage

Hondo

• Mojito | Minted

Iceman

• Bourbon | Puff, Puff, Pour • Vesper | GoldenEye • Belvedere | On Ice • Whiskey Sour | Old Friend

Maverick

• Boulevardier | Twice as Nice • Tom Collins | Old Time's Sake

Payback

• Midori Sour | Solo Session • Paper Plane | Wingman

Penny

• Bloody Mary | Hair of the Dog • Martini | Shaken Not Stirred • Mimosa | Sail Away

Phoenix

• Bahama Mama | Golden Afternoon • Bellini | So Classic • Fuzzy Navel | Poolside Peach • Long Drink | Now Imagine Her Holding a Long Drink • Merlot | Raise You Like a Phoenix • Phoenix | Grit & Glam • Shirley Temple (na) | Tastes So Good • The Last Word | What's the Password?

Rooster

• Blanton's | Giddy Up • Captain Morgan | Captain n' Cock • Champagne | Too Much is Just Right • George Dickel | Too Young to Know • Gin & Tonic | Ain't Leavin' 'til Six in the Mornin' • High Noon | High Noonster • Kamikaze Shot | Stateside • Long Drink | Long Day, Long Drink • Malibu | Just Beach • BB™rita | Salt and a Buffett Song • Margarita (strawberry) | Pourin' All Weekend • Margarita (spicy) | Sweet Heat • Tito’s and Lemonade | I've Got Sunshine • Bellini | Bellinis in Bed • Pina Colada | If You Like Rooster Coladas • Ranch Water | Take Me Home Country Road • Wild Turkey | Cold Turkey

[ruinakete]

HC + names

WORD HEADCANONS & DRABBLE ・ accepting! ( word count challenge beneath the readmore; 500! content warnings; mentions / implications of slight engage spoilers; implied murder! )

names, just like personal dates, do not matter in her eyes. not exactly. to her, it is not the name itself, it is how you wear it; the journey it took to earn it.

after all, she had not been crowned the full name, zephia dahut kurosawa, upon birth. her family surname had been lost to the ages, long before they had fallen to her magic. where her mother bore the surname of the flower humans preferred to gift her, zephia bore the surname of a tragic legend, horribly translated within the waves of the tale.

and she had been the one to first utter the syllables of the name, wrenching it from the crinkled papers of an old storybook until it fit perfectly into the mouths of the tribe. years later, within the ruins of a human village, she tore the second surname from the murky waters at the bottom of the mountain and presented it before sombron. and he accepted the dirty, sullied name just as he had accepted her; dirty and sullied and at his command.

however, the names themselves did not matter. no, they were no more a trophy than they were hers.

HUMANS CALLED IT THE FEAST OF THE ANTHURIAMS. a name weighed down by what the mortal mind perceived as the war between divinity and the fallen. a name this mage dragon first scoffed at upon first hearing of it, pointed helix twitching when the abbot fell into a silent stride beside her. there was irony in the event━━━or the holiday many recognized it as━━━so, it tempted the laughter in her throat. “as long as they understand the weight of to-day, then all is well, right?” she had chosen to offer, decades earlier, when the idea first sprung at the feet of the Lord, “followers will be sacrificed or maimed, yes, but the lasting impact could overcome the cost. the name━━━” or, had she managed to utter all of the suggestions before her name slipped through the Lord’s lips, thus reminding her of her worth in each letter? but this mage dragon had foretold the worth of delirious faith correctly: blood and innards were strewn across the dark sand of the Altar, an awful nostalgia to the gore-soaked snow and dirt centuries prior. and, here, beholding the eyes that once witnessed every child's last twitch, her gaze was narrowed on the only figure visible through the skittering cloud of kicked-up dust. before the church's hundreds of eyes, this boy twitched and heaved and stood as if he had been born the other day, but there was a glory to every ragged breath. an untamed hunger the child within her once swallowed. the abbot sighed beside her, but she interrupted the beginnings of any voice with her own, "who is he?" "hm, that is griss. he joined a..." but her ears had already deemed it worthless; it had not been the answer she hoped for. later, she had demanded the same from the boy himself, immediately once the clergy saw to it that the Eyes of God had been drained from the majority of his system. "who are you?" was what she pried for; and a follower, was what he gave willingly, still wide-eyed and trembling. though the tremors could not be fear. no, not if his lips continued to twitch into what she hoped to be an exhausted grin. her head lolled to match his, sangria eyes narrowed to a scornful slant until she deemed his reaction to such judgment enough. fangs bared in her smile, consideration melded into a figurehead's generosity; mage dragon had not hesitated to lean closer, raising a clawed hand to cup his cheek as she crooned, "hm-hm, how wonderful. how promising. again, boy. you are the Lord's follower before you are...?" griss, was the drawled name she heard. therefore, griss was the reward he'd receive. the mage dragon had not released him when she purred, "as i am the Lord's follower before i am zephia." a pause, as her gaze lowered to the blade at her hip, "come, griss. you will draw blood with me. then, a prayer before we leave the monastery, will suffice, yes?"

[soleilnomoon]

hihi ૮₍˶ •ᴗ• ⑅₎ა, another milestone has crept by behind my back (feels like it anyway), so i wanted to do a something to show my appreciation — as a v big thank you to everyone who has supported & withstood my foolishness and clownery 💛✨. since it’s already summertime (at least where i live) & i like being on the nose about stuff, i present to you 🔆💕🌴feels like summer 🥭💕🔆 — a 1.3k followers mini-event that will run from 06/10 – 08/10. since this will be a limited sort of event, i will accept up to ten requests at a time & attempt to write somewhere around 500-800 words for each request (hopefully).

i will write drabbles & ficlets/scenarios for characters from one piece, jujutsu kaisen, attack on titan, obey me, & black clover.

please don’t forget to check out my rules before sending requests 💕

choose a snack (it’s ok to request multiple), 3-5 tracks from the summer playlist, and one item from the drink menu (one character from any of the fandoms listed). also, if you want me to choose for you, just let me know.

example: “hellooo! i would like some strawberries with a whiskey sour and songs 06, 32, & 14 from the summer playlist.”

current status: closed.

rules:

i. please choose one character from either one piece, jjk, aot, black clover, or obey me — if you’re feeling indecisive, you can toss a few names my way and i’ll pick at random. ii. you can send multiple requests (but please consider requesting different characters if you do.) iii. if there’s a preferred gender you want me to write the reader as, please let me know. iv. since the event is more or less a nsfw one, i will only write for canonically adult characters; i’m not budging on that. v. this is an 18+ event, so minors please do not interact, thank you.

~ let’s enjoy some summertime fun☀️🏖️

❀ strawberries 🍓 fluff

❀ tangerines 🍊 angst

❀ mangos 🥭 smut

❀ peaches 🍑 hurt / comfort

❥ mai tai // one piece

❥ old-fashioned // attack on titan

❥ whiskey sour // jujutsu kaisen

❥ sangria // obey me

❥ long island iced tea // black clover

beach

sunscreen

lick

shot glass

thirst

fight

sweat

bubblegum

hammock

cherry

regret

smoke

sticky

whisper

bite

bonfire

run

bubbles

soda

desk

taste

blindfold

handwritten letter

sunset

breathless

suck

iridescent

first kiss

bracelet

daydream

heat

breeze

crowd

shooting star

garden

thunderstorm

drink

popsicle

sunglasses

ice cubes

obsess

slow kissing

“you deserve better than me.”

“i’m sorry, have we met?”

“this is a one-time thing.”

“oh, now you care?”

“you’re too loud.”

“we’re… just friends.”

“show me.”

“swallow.”

[foxymoxynoona]

Amended Drabble: Taehyung & Kristin: Friends

Ok, someone sent in this drabble request idea ages ago but I can't find it in my inbox, so I suspect it was part of another thing I already answered. But here it is now!

Request/Summary: "Btw a drabble on Kristen and Taehyung from Amended, I recall she was into him for a long while and I think Itd be nice to explore that dynamic, maybe from her pov … him not being interested at first and then they end up together… it’s really fascinating to me that she actually remained open to him especially after he ignored her feelings for so long even when they lived together and from what jk said would regularly bring other women around…"

Story: Amended Characters: Taehyung & Kristin CW: denial, some dirty jokes

Kristin failed to catch the bag of chips Anna tossed at her, taking the bag of tortilla crisps right to the face. Her complaint turned into a yelp as Anna acted like she was going to throw the bottle of Corona as well only to laugh and set both down on the coffee table –no coasters– between the salsa and guac.

“Limes?” Kristin asked.

Anna’s face scrunched up, “For… what?”

“The beers? Damn, I forgot you’re not a beer drinker–”

“Hey I’m trying here!”

“You don’t have to try to drink something you don’t like, but if you’re gonna to do it, you should at least do it right. Who are you trying to impress though? Not me.”

Anna admitted, “Well, to be honest, I fucked up the sangria.”

“How?!”

“Salt instead of sugar…”

“Damn you make me feel so competent.”

“Hey!” Anna’s laugh was punctuated by a kick to Kristin’s ankles. Kristin, unlike Anna, was a beer drinker, though less enthused about drinking a Corona without the requisite lime. Who had taught her that? She tried to recall, then backpedaled from the memory –Taehyung had taught her about Coronas with lime, the first summer she’d gone tubing at the river with her then-roommates Jimin and Jungkook, and Jungkook’s cousin Taehyung. 

“It’s fine without a lime,” Kristin assured her. 

“I got the good guac at least!”

“You did! Good girl!” Kristin teased. She settled the chips as Anna pulled up the entertainment of choice for their “self care” day: binging as much as they wanted of the latest season of Love Island. They didn’t often laze around this hard, but why not, when they both had the day and the desire and plenty of snacks?

And then, several episodes in, her phone buzzed. Kristin wasn’t always the most timely texter, but it buzzed while she was already holding it, reading Twitter reactions outloud to Anna as they bickered about the on-screen drama.

[Taehyung]: hey I need a bj

Kristin couldn’t stop the snort, the eye roll, and apparently that was enough to make Anna’s eyes narrow suspiciously.

[Taehyung]: I mean a trip to bj’s

Kristin knew the smug grin he was wearing as he sent the texts. He thought he was so funny. Every fourteen-year-old got a good laugh that the big-box discount store was called BJ’s, but leave it to Taehyung to still be making the joke into his twenties. Leave it to Taehyung to make the joke to a girl who– well, whatever.

[Kristin]: I’m sure you do but I’m busy beg someone else

[Taehyung]: I’m begging you

Kristin sighed through her nose. He knew the things he said. He was such a flirt when he wanted something and it was both an aggravating and endearing trait of his. She suspected he had already pestered Yoongi and been turned down. His own parents had a membership too,  though, so why her?

Not for the reasons she had wished for long ago, that was for damn sure. And that was fine. Fine! Even if Anna’s expression made it seem not fine.

“I can tell who it is by your face,” Anna smirked.

“Oh really? The annoyance is that clear?”

“Annoyance? That’s what you’d call it?”

Kristin glared.

Anna sighed, “Kristiiiin…”

“What? I didn’t say anything! It’s just Taehyung asking to use my BJ’s membership.”

“And you want to go. On this, our sacred Love Island–”

“I didn’t say that. I’m not going.” At Anna’s arched eyebrow, Kristin defended, “I’m not going!”

“You always go.”

“I do not. You’re going to piss me off. I tell him no all the fucking time.”

“Ok ok, I know.”

“That ship sailed years ago,” Kristin continued.

Anna nodded, “I know, I know.”

“It’s just friendly. He’s just mooching off my membership.”

“Are you telling me or yourself?”

Kristin huffed, “Well if you’re going to be like this–”

“Sorry, I’ve had too many beers,” Anna frowned, trying to slide across Kristin’s lap even though Anna wasn’t typically a very physical person.

“You’ve had two!”

“Which is enough to buzz me enough to tell you that I just don’t want to see you slide back into sad puppy Kristin just because he seems to be texting you a lot lately.”

Kristin held her breath for a moment as Anna slithered to get comfortable, before pressing carefully, “You think so?” She thought so, but she didn’t think it was anything remarkable enough anyone else would notice. But yeah, though she’d been friends with Taehyung for years now, the last month or so she did think he’d been messaging her more than usual. Not anything important, just to tell her… a band they liked was coming to town, or to make sure she knew they were all heading to the bar, or to ask her to fact check this or that ‘white girl’ thing he’d seen a TikTok meme about. It wasn’t like texting between them was unusual. It just seemed like he was doing it… you know, a little more often.

But that didn’t mean anything and she knew that. How many years of her life had she wasted pining after this guy who saw her as nothing more than his cousin’s former roommate at worst, “one of his bros” at best? Anna knew the whole saga, which Kristin had done her best to downplay over the years. She really had boxed up those feelings and put them on the shelf. Everyone lived with former feelings for at least one of their friends, right? And hers was Taehyung, but it had only ever been friendly with him, and she’d understood years ago that wasn’t going to change. She’d dated other people. Sort of. A little bit. Ok, maybe it was true she didn’t have much luck with guys, which included Taehyung, but she wasn’t just sitting around pining for him. Not anymore! 

And he has sure dated other people. 

“Just go,” Anna said, stretching to reach for the remote and nearly falling off the sofa. “I want to take a nap anyway. Beer makes me sleepy.”

“I’m not going to go. I’m not going to change my plans just because Taehyung needs toilet paper or whatever! We’re just friends and friends can tell each other no. I tell him no all the time.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I do! I’m busy. Start the next episode.”

**

“Ahhhh they keep it so nice and cold in here,” Taehyung sighed, throwing his hair back, running his fingers through it like someone was taking pictures. Someone ought to be.

Kristin knew she seemed casual and cool. That’s who she was; Taehyung had said so himself before. He had no idea of her feelings, she was pretty sure of that too, that most of their friend group didn’t except Anna. At least nobody had ever said anything to her. Or maybe they thought she was just kind of pathetic, crushing on a guy who didn’t have a whiff of romantic feelings towards her. Maybe she really was pathetic to have spent so long getting butterflies under the sunbeam of his attention, platonic though it was. At least she could say she hadn’t let her heart get too broken up over it. She had known better than to hope for anything. After all, her crush had begun in high school when he was way too cool to even look her way at the next locker over, making the limits of his attraction to her obvious from the start –long before he helped Jungkook move in and she realized her mistake in agreeing Jungkook could have the third bedroom in her place with Jimin.

“That stuff tastes like shit,” Taehyung scowled and literally took the box of Blueberry K-Cups from her hands to put back on the shelf.

Instantly she huffed, “It’s not for you!”

“Yeah? Well you can’t drink it.”

“I can drink whatever the fuck I want.”

“Your breath will smell like it.”

“What do you care what my breath smells like? You don’t even like coffee,” she scowled, because the thing that sucked about being Taehyung’s friend when you used to have a crush on him was that sometimes he said things like that. Who said things like that to their friends?! She’d never figured out whether he couldn’t help flirting with her because he was so charming with everyone, or if it didn’t even register to him that it could sound like flirting because it was her. Kristin. Pumpkin-spice-latte loving, riding-boot-wearing, former marching band trumpet and varsity volleyball playing Kristin. Generic Kristin. 

That was another thing about hanging out with Taehyung. He was just so exceptional –in looks, in personality, in style– that sometimes you felt insignificant next to him because he looked like that, and other times he made you feel great about yourself because of his attention, his friendship, and because he was so damn nice. He wasn’t an asshole and he could have been, everyone would have understood if he turned out to be an asshole, looking like that. Instead he was casual and cool and nice and Kristin felt so fucking plain. Not that she was usually so down on herself, usually. She was fine! She did ok! She liked herself overall, she was comfortable in her skin. 

But then you stand next to someone who looks like that as he eases a giant box of Coca-Cola off the shelf above his head, forearm muscles twitching, chin lifted and eyes narrowed in concentration, and…

“You aren’t going to help at all,” he realized with a laugh.

“You’ve got it.”

“At least move the paper towels?”

“You’re putting it on the bottom? No, put it in this part–”

“The paper towels can go on top of it.”

“On the bottom of the cart together? There’s not room!”

“I’ll make room, just move it.”

“You can’t just make room–”

“Kristin, just move it!”

“God you’re bossy,” she huffed and tugged the bulk pack of paper towels out of the bottom of the cart so he could finally set the Cokes down with an oomph. She thought it was cute how strong and weak he was at the same time. Sometimes they arm-wrestled when they were drunk and she felt great pride that they were pretty evenly matched. He had no reason to let her win. He was a good sport about losing, yet another positive feature. He had flaws… she just couldn’t remember what they were right now…. Oh yeah, he was stubborn as shit…

She stood back, arms crossed and amusement on her face as she watched him do his best to wedge the paper towels in on top of the Coke box. It didn’t fit, just as she’d warned. He kept trying, clearly determined to prove her wrong, until she couldn’t help laughing.

“So fucking stubborn!” she teased, pushing his arm. “Move, let me show you.” He scowled but let her rearrange the cart to make things fit: the paper towels, the Coca-Cola, the Red Solo cups, the gallon of Goldfish, the 250-count of freezer pops, 120 gallon ziplock bags, 250 yards of tin foil, and so on.

“Wowww,” he said, unclear whether he was teasing or sincere. “Tetris master, huh?”

“You make that same joke every time we come here.”

“I don’t repeat jokes. Sorry, you’ve got me confused with the other guys you do BJ’s with.”

His repetition of another joke made her laugh. She hated laughing, hated that he could make her laugh so easily, hated how smug he looked about it.

“You’re an idiot,” she laughed and began to walk again.

“What part of that was idiot? You don’t mean I’m the only guy you bring to BJ’s.”

“Obviously not,” she quickly answered. “Are you kidding? This membership is a great way to pick up guys.”

“No, don’t let guys use you for your BJ’s membership!”

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?” she pointed out.

“Well I mean except for me,” he quickly corrected. “I’m special.”

“Uh huh.”

She walked along, hands pulled into the cardigan she’d stolen from Taehyung’s car because it was always so fucking cold in BJ’s. Taehyung pushed the card, gaining some momentum and riding on the bar of it until they reached the end of the aisle.

“What, you didn’t bring… what was the guy’s name… uh…”

Kristin raised her eyebrows, genuinely not sure who the fuck he was talking about.

“That guy you went on a couple dates with.”

“Adam?”

“Yeah.”

“What made you think of him? I only went on like three dates with him.”

“Three dates is a lot for…”

“For me?” She gasped and shoved his arm. “Asshole. It’s a lot for you.”

“Maybe it is,” he admitted. “I don’t know, I don’t see the point of getting past date two if I can’t see myself just spending an afternoon at BJ’s with a girl, you know?”

See? Sometimes he said things like that.

Kristin awkwardly pointed, “Ah, raisin bread! I don’t need two loaves of it though.”

“Throw it in, we can split it,” he suggested, so she did, and thankfully the dating conversation got dropped. She didn’t know what had made him think of it, but Taehyung’s mind was a funny one to try and track. You didn’t always know where he was stepping next but he expected you to keep up, he wasn’t going to explain the connections.

They reached the end of the aisle and Taehyung sighed, “Ahhh, should we go through the bakery part?”

“Obviously.”

“But I’ll want to buy everything. I fucking love bread and stuff.”

“So buy some bread and stuff,” Kristin said. “Isn’t that why you came?”

“Not for cinnamon rolls! I need like… Spam, and pasta sauce and Pizza Rolls and–”

“Wait, have we not gotten anything on your list yet?!”

“Coke and paper towels. Anyway, I don’t have a list, I just get whatever I’m moved to get. I know it when I see it.”

Kristin shook her head and led him to the bakery section, where they spent a great deal of time debating cookies or brownies or cinnamon rolls and who would take how many of each home. She grabbed the 48-pack of Hawaiian rolls, which Taehyung never left without, and rolled her eyes when he fluttered his eyelashes at her and teased her for remembering that. 

They wandered down the toy aisles without it needing to be said, and teased each other over being drawn to completely unnecessary things: big boxes of chalk, a plastic tower of off-brand Hot Wheels cars, Nerf guns. Kristin grinned when Taehyung took the pack of bubble wands from her hand and put them in the cart. When she grabbed a toy space gun and pretended to open fire, he grabbed a baseball bat to use as a light saber and ducked around the aisle, their game continuing until two actual children wandered past and Taehyung solemnly handed one his bat ‘to protect yourself from the space invaders.’

The thing Kristin liked about Taehyung is that he never made you feel stupid for being playful, or getting something wrong, or indulging yourself. Other than his tradition of pretending he wasn’t going to load the cart up with bread, Taehyung believed you ought to enjoy life and fuck anyone who bothered you about it. Kristin hadn’t adopted that philosophy completely, but on occasion found it very freeing.

Which was quite the set up for him suddenly pulling a large very floral shirt off the tables with affordable apparel and saying, “You should buy this.”

“Uh… why?” Kristin didn’t take it from him, so he held it up himself. It looked like something a middle-aged suburban woman would wear, which wasn’t a bad thing but it wasn’t Kristin’s style at all.

“It’ll look good on you.”

“Be serious.”

“I am! It’s stylish and you have that kind of feminine sporty leisure style to you.”

“What does that even mean?” Kristin laughed. She had never once in her life considered herself fashionable, and hearing such a lie from the lips of the very fashionable Taehyung was quite the joke.

“No, look, this size will hang off your shoulder. I think it’ll look good.”

“Might as well get that Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt too,” she joked.

“Yeah, why not? You like Winnie the Pooh? I think that’s fashionable too.”

“Wait are you just insulting my style?” she cried.

His face looked sincere as he insisted, “No, I’m serious! You have that look to you, you have that kind of vibe where you can make something like this look trendy and cool.”

Kristin didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t mean that, it was an absurd thing to say, but his telltale smirk didn’t creep out as she merely stared at him. She didn’t. 

“My style,” she said slowly, “is kind of just that I wear whatever the fuck I want.”

“Exactly, I like that about your style! So I think this would look good on you, that’s all I meant,” he said, turning away. He actually looked sulky about it now and Kristin got the distinct impression he’d been serious. “Whatever,” he continued. “I like it so I’ll get it for me and wear it.”

Quickly she yanked it out of his hands, “No, you said it would look good on me. Better.”

“I didn’t say better.”

“But you meant better.”

He laughed and argued, “I did not. It would look good on you but it would look great on me.”

“It’s for women.”

“Stupid rules are only for stupid people,” Taehyung argued. “Be smart.”

“Well I’m buying the shirt, so…”

“No, I’m buying the shirt,” he argued.

“We’re not getting matching shirts.”

“I guess we are if you don’t back down, because I’m buying the shirt.”

Kristin made a face, “No, I’m not matching with you. Just buy the shirt for me and maybe I’ll let you borrow it sometimes.” She’d said it all in jest. Taehyung was absurd and this conversation was absurd.

“Ok, deal,” he agreed and tossed it into the cart. And there was his smug grin, his eyes flashing as he began to push the cart again, as if this had just gone exactly the way he intended The whole thing was so confusing, but that’s how Taehyung was! He did confusing things, and it amused the hell out of Kristin.

“Wait, I need to buy you one too then,” she said.

“God no.”

“What!”

“Ah, my style is…”

She tried to pinch his ribs but he twisted away as she cried, “Are you saying I’m not stylish enough to pick a shirt out for you? What happened to being Taehyung Kim, able to wear anything?”

“Ah… yes, that’s true… I can pull off anything– that’s not a dare!” he laughed as she began to dig through the tables. “I picked out something actually good for you.”

Kristin yanked up a t shirt and tossed it at him: a vintage-y looking t-shirt that said Everything I know I learned on Sesame Street with several cast members.

“Fuck, this is really cool,” he admitted, looking it over with a pleased smile.

“See?”

“Ok ok and then we’ll get the Winnie the Pooh sweatshirts–”

“We don’t need those,” she laughed. “It’s June!”

“Come on, let’s get them to commemorate our day.”

For the briefest moment Kristin could have sworn he said date. But of course he hadn’t. Day. Because that was such a normal thing, to buy sweatshirts to commemorate a shopping trip to BJ’s.

“Not Winnie the Pooh. Something that’s like… more subtle,” Kristin insisted, reaching around him to dig. 

Taehyung snickered, “Ok yeah that’s funny, we could wear them and see if anyone notices….”

They wound up settling on a striped blue short-sleeved button up shirt, both laughing at how differently they would style it. It was silly. So was their next debate over whether to get a S’mores kit even though neither of them had access to a firepit, but instead they bought a two-pack of water bottles to split because Taehyung said he needed a new one but only one and Kristin had a hard time saying no to him even though she had a cabinet full of mismatched water bottles already.

At the checkout, Taehyung gave her his (annoyingly) cute boxy grin as she scanned her card, only to protest when she nudged him to pay.

“No, you pay and tell me how much I owe you,” he whined.

“You bought more stuff! You do the math.”

“I don’t do math.”

“Me neither.”

“Kristin. Don’t make me do math.”

“Yes. It’s time you learned.”

“Look, one of us was a nerd in high school–”

“Hey!” she scoffed as he stepped around her to pay, as if they weren’t still arguing. “Being a band nerd isn’t the same as being a math nerd and besides you have since admitted you wish you were in the band.”

“I did not! I said I wished I played saxophone earlier but not in the marching band.”

 “Why, too good for marching band?” she taunted.

She should have predicted his answer, “Definitely.”

“You’re such an ass.”

He gave her that boxy grin again as he accepted the receipt and offered, “Well since I’m the ass who’s stuck doing the math, I’ll let you buy me a slice of pizza and a Coke while I try to figure it out.”

“Oh, you’ll let me?” Kristin repeated with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s a good deal!”

“You should buy it, you’re the one piggy-backing on my membership.”

“Ah, that’s almost a good point,” he said, taking it upon himself to push the cart towards the small food court space. “But look at it this way, you got my dazzling company for an afternoon. So I guess you could say it’s not piggy-backing, it’s a symbiotic–”

“Nah, you’re a parasite,” she assured him. And the way his dark hair bounced as he shook his head was so annoyingly gorgeous that she tripped over the voice in her head reminding you don’t have a crush anymore; you’re over him; you’re just friends; this is not a date and you wouldn’t care even if it was because you’re over this and conceded, “Fine, I’ll buy the pizza and Cokes but then I want a coffee while we figure the math out together.”

“This late? You’ll be up all night!”

“What do you know about it?” she laughed.

“Well if you’re up all night you can come over and play games,” he decided. It brought her up short. She didn’t really play games, and it was an odd invitation.

“Oh you’re playing with who tonight, Yoongi? Not Jungkook, he’s so wrapped up with–”

“No, no plans, I don’t even know what I’m going to play yet,” Taehyung shrugged. 

The invitation was like a zap of electricity through Kristin. It didn’t really make sense. Like, ok, she and Taehyung were friends. They could go to BJ’s together, though they didn’t do that often. Sometimes they’d bum a ride from each other. They’d joke around at friend gatherings. Once they’d even gone to a movie together just the two of them, but only because Jimin had bailed at the last second. She’d been sleepless with delusions from that “not a date” for days. But they didn’t exactly just go to each other’s place to hang, just the two of them, ever. For Kristin’s self-preservation maybe more than anything, but it wasn’t like Taehyung invited her over to hang just the two of them.

But she knew it didn’t mean anything. Not the way she would have wanted it to mean anything –years ago. Not now, obviously, because now they were just friends and she was fine with that. Taehyung was a great friend. They could have fun together even just shopping at BJ’s.

Her determination to hold her boundary and prove to herself as much as anyone else that she was fine and over it led her to laugh, “Come on, it’s Saturday night, I already have plans!”

“Really? With who?” He carefully edged the cart to the side of a table to claim a spot before they went to get their food.

“None of your business.”

“Fine fine, don’t tell me about your dating life. Guess you won’t mind being up all night then, I’ll buy you the coffee. Meet back here?”

“You betcha,” Kristin grinned, and tried not to read into his curiosity. Taehyung was just a nosy person. It didn’t mean anything. 

They were friends, nothing more, and though once it might have been a painful disappointment, by now Kristin just felt lucky. Lucky that this goofy, playful, handsome, charming guy seemed to enjoy spending an afternoon with her. Lucky that she was the one who got to settle down for the greasy meal with him. Lucky she was the one his smile aimed at when she told him about the grease on his chin and threw a napkin and he threw it back. Lucky that when she sipped her coffee, she realized he had put just the right amount of cream and sugar in it, even though he didn’t drink coffee himself. Well, close enough anyway.

After all, Taehyung was the kind of guy it was better to be friends with than nothing. How great to be friends with Taehyung. Kristin was a lucky girl. 

“What are you smiling about?” he asked and her stomach did a painful twist.

“You have grease on your cheek,” she lied. “How do you eat like a toddler?”

“Wipe it off for me.”

“I’m not wiping your face!”

“I’ll just smear it around if I try to do it.”

Kristin grabbed the napkin and just slapped it against his cheek. He laughed so hard he choked on the bite he’d been talking around and hurried to slurp down his Coke. She didn’t understand why it was so funny but his laughter made her laugh, she couldn’t stop either. Just two idiots laughing at the BJ’s over pizza grease that wasn’t even there. Friends. 

[daja-the-hypnokitten]

Jukebox reviews part 35! For context, see my post “A Project” under this same tag. If you want to see a full list of his EMCSA stories, they can be found here, sorted alphabetically.And if you want to see some of his drabbles, check out his blog at @jukeboxemcsa

Loose Ends

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

4/29/2017                                     mc ff

... Sweetling?! Huh, I didn't realize that was an endearment that showed up in *any* Jukebox story. It feels almost wrong in this context, given my associations with it, but ... alas, it's just so interesting to actually see it as a word/endearment being used by *anyone* outside of the one book I stole it from. Tangent aside, this is a fun little slice of a mind controller's life, and it's entertaining to watch her struggle with temptation and fail just as much as the two gals she's speaking with fail to resist her power. Hopefully she learns to control her power before it overwhelms her any more than it already has. 8/10 spirals 

 Quiver and Quake

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5/6/2017                                       mc

Another induction script, and another clever metaphor. I might have to steal this idea sometime, for my own personal use. It's just such a clever mental image, for folk who are more visual. The use of a needle tracing brain activity, where someone can imagine it getting more and more still ... it's a good one! Standard disclaimer for arousal and orgasm suggestions, but it's a good script! 8/10 spirals 

 Soft Kitty Warm Kitty

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5/13/2017                                     mc ff

Ok, this is adorable! Also has some good heat, but mostly it's just *cute.* Seeing how playfully, how easily, Izzy settles into being a kitty for her partner, how completely she leans into that space? Oh, it's adorable. And I hope that these two stay in love and happy together for a very long time. 9/10 spirals 

 Act Appalled

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5/20/2017                                     mc mf md

Heh, how different people can be! I do enjoy this, the build up and the payoff, though. It's unclear from context if the scene interspersed between the sections of conversation is between George and Allie or George and Sue, and I think that's by design. But it does throw me off a little. The descriptions are amazing though You can just see how she's - whichever she she is! - reacting and responding, and it's so good. I'm going to assume Allie for reasons, but I won't say that read is inherently correct. (Heck, given one line, it may be meant to be both at different times!) 9/10 spirals 

 XOXOX

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5/27/2017                                     mc ff cb

Oh, this is another lovely superhero story. The Liberty Squad is fun, even if I keep wanting to call them the Liberty Legion/The Legion. (Look, the size of the group and the particular flavor of personalities reminds me of the Legion of Superheros. ANYWAY.) The reluctant hero is an interesting inclusion to the Squad, and it's always fun to see how Sangria gets countered this time. I do wish that Azure could have a better ending here, though; I feel a little bad for her and the reality she has to accept still. 9/10 spirals 

 Worst Case Scenario

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6/3/2017                                       mc

THIS IS WHY YOU LOCK YOUR TRIGGERS, DARN IT ALL. Though any competent justice of the peace ought to see  she's not entirely conscious and not sign the paperwork. Look, I just can't stand anyone who won't accept people being bi, it's a pet peeve of mine, so I really dislike Gillian and want her to get her comeuppance, somehow. I was hoping for Chloe to wake up and slap her, or for Auberon to walk in, or SOMETHING. My utter distaste for Gillian makes this story a 5/10 spirals, though the descriptions are on point, as always.

 Zombie Blood Nightmare

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6/10/2017                                     mc mf md

Nope, nope nope nope. This story implies stuff happening after the end of the story that I really, REALLY don't want to think about. NOPE. (I will never, EVER understand how people aren't squicked TF out by the idea of having sex with *siblings,* even if not at the same time. I just won't ever get it. Also ick, horror movies are not my thing. 

 Divide and Conquer

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6/17/2017                                     mc mf md

I'm ... this one just feels mean spirited in ways that I find actively unpleasant. And the mind control isn't even the thing, really; it's all about the personalities involved, and they just aren't compelling for me. The lack of so many things I want, especially any actual *experiencing* of mind control, makes this one just not up my alley. 2/10 spirals 

 Remember the Time

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6/24/2017                                     mc mf md

Other than the serial recruitment element in here, this is a story I like a lot of! It focuses so much on her experience of things, and while there's sex she's mostly unaware of it and focused on how she feels. It's a nicely charged story, even if it isn't *really* how hypnosis works. 8/10 spirals 

 Yes, I’m Ready

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7/1/2017                                       mc ff

This story is a weird level of detached, that even as the process is laid out lacks - for me - any real charge to make it hot. But if you like the disconnect between conscious mind analyzing, considering, evaluating, and a body that's responding to control, to someone else's desires? Thsi is likely up your alley. 4/10 spirals

[the-potpourri]

(I really wish my brain didn't feel so fried lately. There's so much I wanna do. I have profiles to add (like Sonata and Sangria's) for The Potpourri as a couple other locales in the setting (like The Naked Loaf which is a bakery that a couple characters work at or the cafe that Sam works at). Not only that, there are drabbles I wanna write, especially since it's close to the holidays and I so wanna do a thing with the Triplets for it. Tons of characters I wanna send asks to as well but can't come up with anything either.

Wish something would come to me as easily as writing this did.)

[jewels2876]

An Excellent Pairing

A/N: Two day in a row! I’m slowly making a comeback - today’s is for the most wonderful @eurynome827​ and her 2k milestone celebration! Eury is so amazing and deserves more followers! Love ya dear!

I picked up her prompt “ Sangria in a pitcher outside on a warm, sunny day “ and pairing it with Space Husband that she oh so sneakily got me started loving

Word Count: 357

pic not mine

Warnings: implied smut and not so implied making out - 18+ Only! If you click on the link you agree you are over the age of 18

The pitcher stood in the middle of the small table. Its layers of blood-red oranges, green apples, and lemons bobbed gently at the top while a few droplets of water slid down the outside. The sun’s rays warmed your skin as you stretched out on the chaise lounge. You felt a light drip of water on your arm and peeked one eye open.

“Wanna drink, sunshine?” His glistening bare chest diverted your attention for a moment before you answered.

“Yes please,” you purred as you raised up on one elbow, shielding your eyes from the sunlight to stare at your boyfriend. He bent over the table and you playfully whistled at his tight ass. He chuckled and poured himself a glass first, then yours; he handed you the sangria as he took a seat at the foot of your chair. He took a gulp; you watched as he tilted his head back, his throat slowly swallowing and you pressed your thighs together before taking a sip of your own drink. “Are you going back in the pool?”

His gaze moved from the pool to your bare legs and feet; his hand smoothed over your calf. “No, I think something else has caught my attention,” he cooed as he set down the drink on the patio before grasping your waist. You squealed at the cool contact, then moaned as his body covered yours. You set your drink on the other side of the chair as his lips attacked you.

“Mmm, Dr. Beck,” you murmured as his mouth latched to the juncture of your neck to your shoulder; his hands pulled your hips flush to his, his clothed erection brushing against your core. You moaned as he nibbled and licked your skin. “More please.”

Chris’s lips moved against your neck as he whispered. “More sangria?” He pulled back so you could see the smirk playing on his lips now. You smacked his chest gently, following his lips.

“Damn you, I meant you, you dork. But since you mentioned it...” You picked up your sangria and took a sip, then leaned forward to kiss Chris again. “Mmm, an excellent pairing.”

[procidensorientem]

“...” He’s...not at the usual spot when he’s asleep. And for a moment, he doesn’t know where he is.

Until he rolls over, and sees a familiar voice. Just how he remembered. 

He just pulls the other closer, afraid to let go.  “hey, you’re not allowed to leave.” He says, breathing in the familiar scent. 

“you’re not allowed to leave without me again, okay?” And even though he hears that reply, he holds tighter.

“said that last time. you still left. you’re not allowed....”

And though he held the other, though he had hope that this wasn’t just a dream, soon enough when he blinks, he’s back at the peak. 

“...i just want you to leave me alone.”

“Impossible. Come on, you know this is the way. I’ve told you the truths, and you can read it in those notes, you can read the legends about the peaks if you need. Listen, Sans, I just need a vessel. I want to stretch my limbs and breath the sweet air, you know? Much like you I’m trapped. Trapped I say, and All I Want is freedom. And that involves your aid.”

“....only if you promise me you won’t hurt him. you won’t touch him.”

The mountain shakes, the voice laughs. “Alright, alright, I swear to you.”

[sithlordmando]

request a drabble!

i’m in the mood to write drabbles so send requests!

i write for mostly star wars, kingsman and the mcu!

i’m comfortable with writing most things, but i will let you know if there’s an issue w a request!

[sopewriters]

Your Rosé smuts are always so good😍😍😍

Ahhhh thank you so much! i find that i really enjoy writing about subspace (i wonder what that could mean,,,) so i had tons of fun writing this! and i also mentioned this before, but i’ll say it again; sangria’s the real mvp here! she’s great at writing Rosé (and gg in general!), so kudos to her

[zcorners120]

red

yes, another qUiCk ChArLeS dRaBbLE

synopsis; you decided to wear someone's favourite colour.

warnings; implications and mentions of sex, teasing in public, swearing

MASTER LIST

Wine, sangria, blood and berries. No matter the shade, he loved red. It was an even better pro of driving for Ferrari.

It was hard living apart, you made efforts to come and watch him race. You loved his career and were aware of his passion for it, so you deeply supported him and his choices.

But today, today he could have some extra support as you were watching from the paddock. You had a long black trench coat on, and black knee high boots. You loved fashion, so it was nothing out of the ordinary, considering the fact that underneath, you had nothing but red lingerie on.

You cheered as he crossed the finish line, finishing in first. Watching him fist bump the air as the heavy rain poured down onto him.

He ran to his team and made a beeline straight for you, where you were standing under a shelter. He clipped his helmet off and straight away kissed you, lifting you up into the air as you laughed.

Pure joy, and you were so proud of him. You took his hand and lead him into a smaller corner.

"I'm so proud of you Amor. Je t'aime." You whispered, spraying small kisses on his cheeks.

"Grazie Cherie. Je t'aime aussi." He hushed back, smiling down onto you.

"Before you go to the media pen, I want to show you how I'll celebrate you later." You said, dragging and extenuating your words as you slowly undo the belt on your jacket.

He watches you intently, analysing as you take open your jacket, revealing the most delicious red lacey bra, followed with a thong, as well as a red garter.

"Holy shit mon ange." His jaw went slack, his eyes hungry with passion to take you right there.

He reached out his hands to touch before you quickly closed your jacket and did the belt.

"If you do your interviews well, you'll get your reward at home, seeing as you already have a trophy." You said, smirking at him, jerking your head sideways to signal to go.

"Now I have to do interviews whilst being turned on. I love you, but damn you're annoying. I'll be getting you back when we get home, just you wait." He rushes, hearing his name getting called in the background.

You smile, as he hurries off, turning around every couple seconds to look at you.

Watching him do the interviews was funny, but excruciating for him. His death stare on you wasn't helping the time pass as he gave blunt answers to whatever bland questions the interviewer had.

Let's just say that when you got home, the neighbours were pissed.

[ruinakete]

hc + vengeance

WORD HEADCANONS & DRABBLE ・ accepting! ( word count challenge beneath the readmore; 500 goal; 507 reached! content warnings; mentions / implications of engage spoilers; mass murder; attempted suicide(s); suicidal thoughts; self-harm! )

to wrong zephia takes a grand amount of strength; a feat, really. this is not because she makes herself impeachable, as there's no doubt that the cracks in her image are visible. however, it's because most that attempt to wrong her are disposed of the moment she realizes their intent. instead, i think the main aggressor in her mind━━━the main person she once wanted vengeance against-was herself. not many wrongs have been dealt against her, and the one with the greatest impact was the one she committed by herself.

vengeance is not a sweet thing, to zephia. when her magic swelled from her dragonstone and tore down the walls of her home, setting both friend and kin aflame, her first reaction had been to condemn herself to a fate alike theirs. to destroy her dragonstone would be to kill the part of her that only brought grief. to destroy herself would be to kill the part of her that brought disappointment. thus, for centuries, she tried to take her life, failing each time, over and over again until sombron directed her rage towards the wrongful acts of mankind and those divine.

currently, zephia is not sure whether or not she seeks retribution from alear for burying her under her lava and stone. because, yes, though the divine dragon had killed her, had she not been the one to push the stone of fate rolling? should she not be the one punished for condemning griss to a death that belonged only to her?

for now, as she ponders what became of her past life and this second chance at breathing wholly, she will punish alear for ever thinking she could rid herself of a hound. for now, as she comes to the realization that her longed-for family does not need to come from her womb, she will punish griss for his reverence in her as a goddess and household head.

WAILING SHOOK THE WITHERED TREES OF THEIR SNOW, echoing through the mountains that once belonged to the heart of this dragon, heard above the crackling of flames and snapping of wood as it came to rest. and this mage dragon━━━poor, poor girl. useless, useless daughter━━━clawed at her skin as she trembled and shook violently, heaving in the smoke of her parents and tearing the evidence of failure from her body. o' divine one, she pleaded, she bemoaned, wake me from this night terror. pull me from the duvet of mama's bed and let her live to scold my laziness. remind me that i am not a ruination. but the last night terror she had was as a babe━━━centuries ago, cradled in her mother's arms. "divine..." she gasped, hiccupping and choking on each breath she took in, pitiful as she looked to her parents' guardians to forsake her, "divine... oh god... i didn't mean to! i... i didn't mean to kill them! i... oh divine, my.... i'm useless━━━i'm sorry, i'm so sorry!" another tremor shook her body, knocking her to her knees in the snow and ash, staining her carmine-dirty robes that her mother would not be able to wash. the thought of it━━━sangria eyes led astray to the limp hand some meters away━━━sent her into another fit of panic. the crux of her wails nearly silenced by the thrum of her heart, the glowing steadiness of... no. mage dragon rose her head, her gaze blurry with tears and face smudged with soot. the grief in the air was palpable, cut only by a frigid wind or two, and interrupted, constantly, by the thrum of a heart. it had been easy to find; stuck in the snow, tucked away as though it had no hand in what became of her. no. when she had lunged for the dragonstone, her body had not been ready for the abrupt action. she met snow, first, splayed across carmine and gray, but she scrambled despite the ache between her eyes━━━above her head, the weight of her horns was unbalanced, as though one had broken off a piece of itself just as she had. the moment her claws closed around the stone, she raised it in the air and brought it back down. the rocks beneath it shook, but the stone remained aglow. so, she slammed it down again and again and again and again until her hand met the rocks instead of the dragonstone that fell to her lap. skin split apart and bled, but it would not match the amount of her tribe's. thus, her adrenaline softened into fatigue, slowing her momentum and swaying her as she kneeled. it had not taken long for the mage dragon to slump over, shoulders trembling still as her arms curled to hug her stomach. useless, she was. stupid, foolish girl. utterly immovable despite the sorrow that racked through her body, curled over the dragonstone in her lap; the last of its kind, a reminder of what she could not be and would never become.

[silkscream]

welcome to the smut salon!

thank you guys for 3k!!! it brings me sm joy to see anyone reblogging my fics and saying literally anything in the tags -- to know my writing makes you feel anything is such a blessing. to celebrate, i’m hosting a smut salon (inspired by bunny by mona awad, iykyk) from today, tues aug 16 to wed, aug 24!

rules:

ੈ✩ you don’t have to be 21+ to order a drink but you do have to be 18+ to request smut.

ੈ✩ i currently write for peter parker, tom holland, arvin russell, eddie munson, steve harrington, & robin buckley!

ੈ✩ sangrias are limited to one or two per person! also, please try not to be too specific (i.e writing a whole fic in my inbox and expecting me to extrapolate on it -- give me prompts!)

ੈ✩ not all requests will be completed based on my energy levels or interest

ੈ✩ of course, be respectful in my inbox, please!

whiskey sour → popular/unpopular opinions, gossip, rants, cym, top 5 anything, ask games 

sangria→ send me a character of your choice and request a blurb/drabble

margarita→ request a moodboard/graphic for one of your fics (mutuals only)

manhattan → tell me about your music taste and i’ll make you a mini playlist

sex on the beach → tell me about yourself and what fandoms you’re in so i can match you with a character

cosmopolitan → let me give you a tarot reading

tagging mutuals (if i forgot you i'm soz this is at the top of my head): @tomdutch @vendettaparker​ @cordiformity @uhlxis @indouloureux​ @userholland​ @silkholland @heybugboy @ahoefortomholland @seolaseoul @justapurrcat​ @femalevil @arachine @aniqua @cocoamoonmalfoy​ @vitaminholland​ @saintlessmunson @ohcaptains​ @meliapis​ @peterprker​ @refairy​ @realspideyspice​ @pbnjparker​ @totheblood​ @spideyspeaches​ @cindymooons​ @honeyspidey @cumholland @galatially @sinisterspidey​

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Childfree anon here!! Could we get a Drabble based of the “my wife” Jason ask please?? It’s too cute 🥺 https://xxgoblin-dumplingxx.tumblr.com/post/687518585020661760/ive-never-requested-anything-before-and-this-is

Jason stood behind you at the checkout, unloading a cart. A frew bottles of wine, a bottle of rum. Some frozen fruit- for a pitcher of Sangria. Some fixings for pizza- you wanted to try grilling it. And some odds and ends. Snacks, drinks, a few household products- He didn't know what all you'd snuck in there.

He didn't really care.

He was too busy watching your mental crosshairs align as you handed over your rainbow bank card to the cashier and she visibly cringed.

"You know this flag is for gay people, right," she said, taking it as f it would contaminate her.

You gasp, clutching your chest, "My wife will be shocked."

Jason had to turn around quickly, continuing to load the conveyor belt as you paid for your makeup, his shoulders shaking. His wife was funny. Very funny. And he wished he could tape most of the shit you said. And when you practically skip out the door, wishing her a blessed day, he shakes his head.

"Can you believe-"

"I know," he stage whispered. "My husband and I would never."

And god. The look on her face was worth getting charged twice for the prosciutto.