#see. those hours of research weren't all for nothing.

[bigwishes]

Was It Something You Ate?

Devon had always had it easy, born the son of a billionaire to one of the best pharmaceutical companies in the world he never truly had to work for anything. His dad had paid his way through all of his schooling turning Fs into As with nothing but a pen and a check book. University was even easier, Devon spent a majority of his time in other countries whilst or partying, it was only when he failed every class and was barred from graduation did his dad offer to build a new research facility for the school and suddenly Devon was graduating with honours. Devon never even experienced what it was to deal with shame, as an only child both his parents showered him with praise. Even when he got drunk and crashed the family boat his parents commended his bravery in such a frightening event. Life was easy as a gay man too, his family never cared and once his dad bought Devon his own house and allowed him to hire his own help he was constantly surrounded by masculine buff men who he paid extra to walk around shirtless.

Once Devon even went as far as to give his gardener a $4000 dollar tip just to let Devon film him drinking from the hose on his hands and knees. Of course Devon leaves out the part where he threatened to fire his gardener unless he allowed himself to be filmed.

A few months ago, Devon got the worst news of his life. His dad had told him he had to work for his weekly allowance of 1 million. If he didn't then his allowance would be slashed to a pitiful $400k. He couldn't bare to live like a peasant on such a pathetic amount of money so he agreed to his dad's outrageous terms. Devon had to work 1 hour a day for 4 days each week. Like some disgusting labour mule.

Devon had been working at the head office for 3 weeks and every day he called his dad begging to quit. A man like him wasn't meant for such things.

Devon stood on the stairs in front of the massive corporate building adjusting his suit readying for another day of hard labour. He checked his watch. 11:30am. Devon let out a tired sigh as he jogged up the stairs towards the door.

His dad had told him he had to come in any time before 12pm, Monday - Thursday. Devon had been given the role of "Team Motivator" and his job was to come in and hype up the employees.

Devon's elevator arrived at his office floor, already he needed his 15 minute break for the day, looking around seeing all these unattractive people. He never understood why the poor never took their looks more seriously or why there was always a terrible odour around people like them.

Devon stood in the elevator and raised his hand above his head. He swiped his hand down slowly and inch away from his face, he narrowed his tired eyes, cocked a toothy fuck boy smile and began to walk in-between the cubicles with the swagger only a rich fuck boy could have.

"hey hey hey team, how are those numbers looking? we got the advertisements out this morning? if not make sure you get it done by lunch, hey carol what's goin on with the boys in the lab? we got that new drug ready to roll out by friday"

A few people looked up from their desks at his peacocking and parading.

Devon clapped his hands together as he got closer to his office door. "Come on Come on people!! we got work to do, lets have a great day."

Devon slipped into his office and slammed the door shut. Inside he leant his back against it and let out an exhausted heavy sigh. He had no idea how he was going to go clubbing tonight after working so hard, but a wave of pride hit him as he heard the sounds of muttering out amongst the workers, he had done his job, inspired them.

Of course in reality Devon had done nothing at all. Most of the people on his floor had been working in the office since 7am and everyone ignored his morning speech as it was the exact same rehearsed scripted speech he had been saying each morning since his first day.

Numbers weren't part of their department,

There were no advertisements due this morning,

The boys in the lab didn't have any upcoming deadline,

There was no Carol.

Devon waltzed over to his break area at the back of his office. Originally meant for small intimate meetings, Devon had decked it out with a plasma screen TV and all his streaming services. Not that he got to use it much, he only got to be in his office for 45 minutes of his working day and that really only meant he got to watch an episode of something if he was lucky. Currently he was watching a new fitness challenge show where 20 jacked dudes were pitted against each other in different fitness challenges.

Devon threw himself back on the couch in a cocky man spread and rested his hand on his crotch. Whilst he respected the fact that he couldn't jerk off in the office, it didn't mean he couldn't enjoy how his dick felt hard whilst he watched a handful of jacked men compete for money.

30 minutes into his show and Devon saw a guy in a lab coat walking past his office window. The guy was wearing a blue button down shirt that was slightly loose in the front. He let out a loud sigh and got up from his couch walking over to his office door. Devon swung the door open and called out to the man in the lab coat before gesturing him to come into his officer by curling his index finger repeatedly.

The guy in the lab coat walked into Devon's office

"shut the door behind you bro,"

The man in the lab coat shut the door and turned to Devon all confused

"What is your name man?"

"John"

"Do you know what my job here is John?"

"Ill be honest with you Devon, nobody really knows what you do here" John replied with a cheeky smirk

Devon laughed loudly whilst slapping his desk with one hand,

"Ya know man, my dad had given me the important mantis of motivating our team"

"M-mantis? do you mean mantle?" John lowered his eyebrows confused at how this guy had somehow convinced his dad to give him the biggest office in the building.

"not important. my job is to make sure the people who work at our company are the best they can be"

The thought that maybe Devon did know what he was talking about entered John's mind, he thought maybe he was trained in motivation speaking and would talk to people one on one to help them better manage their work life balance

"look buddy, I can tell, with the way that shirt of yours is sagging in the front, your shoulders not filling out giving you that hot V shape, no pec cleavage on display and that ugly as fuck white coat, you are not living your best life" Devon gestured his hands either side with a big smirk on his face like he had seen his dad do when he was talking to other business men.

The benefit of the doubt dropped out of John's mind. "Nope, this guys a fucking moron" he thought to himself.

"Devon, I appreciate the concern, but I think I'm fine"

"I'll let you in on a little secret man, if a gay stud like me doesn't want to see you on your back, you're fat.."

"WOAH, DEVON THAT IS INSANELY NOT OKAY"

"bro, I'm just trying to be the nice guy and tell you what other people won't" Devon cockily dropped down into his nice leather chair behind his desk. "ya know, my pool guy had a kid and 2 weeks after his abs started to fade and do you know what I did?"

John wanted to say something clever but it would probably go over Devon's head, or worse, if he understood it he might lose his job.

"I fired him John, I don't want some fatty in a speedo working on my pool, and I don't want fat guys working here either"

John was too caught off guard by the first part of Devon's statement

"You make your staff work in speedo's? I think that might be illegal?"

"Look, dude, don't you wanna look like me I mean, check me out. biceps hugging my shirt, shoulders pulling it apart, my chest popping out catching everyone's attention, my abs so fucking tight you can see them through my shirt. I look HOT, you look FAT Johnny"

"Okay, I'm not even chubby though? I'm 6.2 and 85kg. I'm not exactly overweight"

"Buddy you still don't get it so let me spell it out for you, a fit body is hot, a 2 pack means you are fat, no abs showing at all? you're overweight!"

John fluttered his eyes, stunned by Devon's view of the world.

"I thank you for, whatever the hell this was Devon but I have a job to actually get back to"

John began to walk out of the office before Devon called out to him, a tone of desperation in his voice.

"WAIT....can you get me a coffee, almond milk, iced, NO WHIPPED CREAM, I want a drop that weighs exactly one quarter of a gram of caramel mixed in counter clock wise with a bamboo spoon. AND NO PLASTIC OR PAPER CUPS make sure you get it put in one of those little metal ones, no lid.

"No, Devon that isn't my job"

"You work for my dad, so if you want to keep working for my dad you'll do it"

John gritted his teeth. He unfortunately couldn't call out the rich boy on any of his bullshit without risking his entire career, But maybe there was something else he could do.

A few minutes past and John returned to Devon walking out of his office.

"Ah, great timing John, I'm just leaving"

Devon snatched the coffee out of John's hand and noticed something strange. A purple swirl drifting and dispersing into the coffee.

"What's this?" Devon said raising the corner of his lip in disgust.

"oh, its purple caramel, less calories" John quickly blurted out.

All concern dropped from Devon's mind as he took a sip of his drink.

"great call man, its that kind of intimidation we want to encourage here"

John had to stop himself from slamming the palm of his hand into his forehead, clearly Devon meant initiative.

"Ya know, man you might wanna switch to this low calorie caramel I told you about, because when I take over from my dad, first thing I'll do, anyone without a six pack is being let go"

John just gritted his teeth and smiled, "great idea, I'll have to give it a try"

Devon had already left before John could finish his sentence, but John didn't care, in fact he was hoping that coffee would keep Devon away for at least a few months.

--------------

Devon stepped out of his car throwing the metal coffee cup on the back seat behind him. He didn't even bother to say goodbye to his driver and he began jogging up the stone stairs to the front door of his mansion.

As Devon jogged up the stairs he felt something strange. His ass felt heavier, tighter against his carefully tailored pants. He felt it bounce and jiggle on his way up and once he got to his front door he had to stop and massage it briefly. It hurt worse than that time he was grounded and had to fly to take a 12 hour flight in business class.

He entered his house and instantly unbuttoned his pants, after a long hard day at the office he just wanted to get his work clothes off and wash the smell of poor people out of his hair. Devon undressed himself as he walked down the hallway, throwing his clothes on the ground behind him. Someone would be by to pick them up later, he was never sure of exactly who picked up his clothes but it was someone on his staff. He walked into his elegant bathroom covered in tiles and stone work imported all the way from Italy, his bathroom alone cost more than some peoples houses, of course when he moved out and had his house built his dad forked out for all the costs so he wasn't even sure how much everything really cost.

Devon pulled his hair out from his short pony tail and let it hang down. He flexed his broad shoulders in the mirror, his perfectly defined muscles. He wasn't a bodybuilder by any means but he still had a much better body than most people he came across.

His pecs were the main attraction and he often experienced men he brought home squeezing them as he bounced them. His flowing locks drove men wild, being a billionaire helped to prevent any thinning so often the men he slept with were not only turned on by his angelic looks but there was also a hint of jealousy when they ran their hands through his hair, which did nothing but turn Devon on more.

But something was different about him today, his abs were wrong. Normally a beautiful and cut six pack but now he was only seeing 4, and barely 4.

He felt his stomach, the bottom towards his pelvis felt like it was sticking out, ever so slightly.

"oh well, probably bloated from the caramel" he thought to himself

Devon pressed a button on the wall and instantly the water began to flow at the perfect temperature, no need to wait or pathetically dangle his hand in the water like a peasant, he just pressed a button and stepped in. As he went to step in the shower something else caught his eye, something behind him.

"Was my ass always this big?" he asked himself allowed.

Reaching down he grabbed handful of his own ass, it was still firm but it wasn't as hard as stone like he was used to, there was a new squeeze to it, like trying to work with cold clay. Devon took his finger and placed it under his ass cheek, flicking upwards he watched as his whole ass rippled and bounced more than he was used to.

*sigh* "maybe I'll only train legs once a week for a bit, don't want anyone thinking I'm a bottom"

Devon stepped into the water, instantly he felt relaxed as the warm water washed over his face and ran down his body. He squeezed out a decent amount of his tropical scented soap into the palm of his hand and began to work it over his entire body. Washing himself but also taking the time to feel himself. He got hard as he pictured his own perfection, his own brilliance.

Using the lotion he worked his way down to his pelvis, and then to his dick. Devon closed his eyes and bit his lip as he faced into the water, using both hands to rub and pleasure his 12 inches. He couldn't help it, he loved himself so much, he loved his body. He often fantasied about cloning himself just so he could have the experience so many others had been graced with, sleeping with the perfect man.

Devon moaned feeling the water on his lips and the pleasure he brought to himself. He was so close but something started to bother him. He felt hungry, which was unusual because he had such a strict diet routine and always ate at the perfect time every day. He tried to supress the feeling instead focusing on the building pleasure, but it became harder to do so the longer he lasted. The only downside to lasting an hour was it was easy for him to accidentally edge himself if he got too distracted. Unfortunately this was one of those time.

Devon's stomach let out a loud audible groan and he started to feel not just a little peckish, but he felt starved, like he had forgotten breakfast and all his morning snacks.

"uuugggh" He moaned as he let go of himself and turned his attention to finishing his shower routine.

He started pulling out small bottles from a small alcove build into the marble walls of his shower. Starting his multi-step face routine, ignoring the pain in his stomach. It was only when he started his hair routine that he all became a bit much and his stomach tenses letting out an audible grumble.

Devon's hands dropped from his hair to his stomach as he grabbed it from the hunger pains. It felt, almost plump as he rubbed it trying to soothe it. He quickly washed the conditioner out of his hair and got out of the shower.

Pressing a button on the wall an intense heat kicked in as the light above started radiating heat into the room instantly helping the water dry up on his skin. Devon closed his eyes and looked up at the roof letting the water droplets dry up, but the noises from his stomach didn't stop, it got worse. Every few seconds his stomach would let out a loud grumble.

"fuuuuckk, who knew one coffee would get me so bloated..."

Reaching into a small draw Devon pulled out a paid of white underwear which he slipped on. As he did he felt the back struggle to fit. Everything was perfectly tailored to his body to make him look his best but this pair felt weird on him. He felt his ass jiggle as the fabric slide over. He felt the meat of his ass cheeks spilling out of the sides and he could feel the fabric tightly stretch across his behind. As he took his first steps the underwear only felt more uncomfortable, like it was three sizes too small. He walked around the small corner in the bathroom back to the mirror so he could get a better look.

"WHAT THE FUCK" Devon screamed in shock as he stared at the reflection before him.

Devon stood there in shock as he looked at the chubby man before himself.

"I-I- OH GOD, I-I'M FAT"

His stomach loudly grumbled, almost like it was responding too him

"uuuuggghhh, oh god" Devon moaned as he grabbed his new chubby belly with both hands desperately hoping he could push it back in.

His body felt like it wasn't his. He could still feel all the muscle tone it was just buried under a layer of blubber. Taking a step forward he watched as his stomach jiggled. He grabbed his phone off the counter top as he started to panic. He sent out a mass message to everyone on his staff.

"EVERYONE GO HOME AND TAKE THE WEEK OFF, GOING ON MY TRIP EARLY"

Instantly Devon's stomach grumbled. He tossed his phone down on the bench, closed his eyes and grabbed his stomach as a reaction to the pain. The pain got worse as his stomach's grumbling turned to gurgling.

Devon began taking in deep breaths, with each breath his stomach expanded, and with each exhale it deflated, but not all the way. Devon began to itch all over. With on hand already on his stomach he took his one free and desperately began to itch his chest and arms.

He watched as his thin layer of hair darkened and grew longer, slowly making him look like he had never waxed in his life. After a few minutes the itchiness began to die down and Devon's second hand moved down to help massage his complaining gut.

"wh-what's happening to me" Devon cried out, tears starting to well in his eyes.

Suddenly his stomach let out an insatiably loud groan, followed by a noise he had never heard before.

"AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGG"

Devon yelled out in pain and watched in the mirror as his chubby belly rapidly expanded into a big round gut within an instant. It took him a minute to recover and adjust to the pain. He thought his skin had surely just split open, but it hadn't, what he saw in the mirror was so much worse than anything he could have imagined.

Devon was greeted by a large hairy bouncing gut.

"OH MY GOD, W-WHAT HAPPENED TO ME, I LOOK LIKE SOME FUCKING PIG"

Devon bounced his gut with his hands and watched it shake like jelly.

Within a matter of minutes, Devon had gone from sexy billionaire who was on magazines around the world, to a fat greasy pig.

He couldn't help but bounce his gelatinous belly in shock, he almost burst into tears at what a fat freak he had become. He was disgusted by himself, he couldn't go to work like this, he couldn't let his staff see him like this, but the worst part about becoming a fat pig.

He was starving.

-------------

Two weeks went by and Devon's mansion had started to become a mess after he sent all his staff away telling them he was off on his trip. His towels and clothes scattered all over the floor. Take out bags and food containers were all around his house. Without someone to pick up after him, Devon was disgusting.

He sat on his couch taking a multiple food containers out of two paper bags that had just been delivered to his door. His stomach loudly groaned. Devon picked up his phone off the coffee table and opened Instagram. The first post was that of a friend who had actually gone on the trip he had planned to take.

It was a photo of his friend Todd standing next to a tall black bodybuilder on a tropical island, with the caption 'I think I found love out here in the sun'

Devon's stomped his feet causing his meaty thighs to tremble.

"ITS NOT FAIIIRRRR, I SHOULD BE OUT THERE, THAT BIG HUNK OF MEAT SHOULD BE DATING ME, M E, NOT TODD"

tears started welling up in his eyes Devon flicked open a white food box on his coffee table revealing a beautifully decorated white chocolate mud cake which he instantly destroyed by digging his hands into it and stuffing it in his face.

between in monstrous and obnoxious chewing he stuff grabbing his belly and jiggling it with one hand.

"WHEN WILL YOU GO AWAY" Devon cried as he shovelled more expensive food in his mouth and washed it down with a bottle of lemonade like a spoilt pig.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

sooner or later he'd realise if he wanted it gone, he was going to have to work for it...

---------

NOTE: hope you all enjoyed this, my inbox has a bunch of requests begging for a weight gain story and whilst I don't tend to write this sort of thing too often I thought I'd feed the hunger so to speak and write one for those wishing for one.

[btsgotjams27]

things you don't know | jjk

summary: it’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. after moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

✨ title: things you don't know | one shot ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: M/17+ ✨ genre/au: angst | ex best friends!au | ✨ word count: 4.3k ✨ warnings: language, drinking, light kisses, miscommunication, reader jokes about unaliving her other best friend, mentions of throwing up ✨ prompt: “i thought i’d never see you again” ✨ a/n: heyoooo. so this is loosely based off a friendship i had in high school and in case you're wondering (irl) i haven't seen this man in over 17 years (oh gawd i'm old). anyway, thank you to @shina913 for being my beta.

✨ mini-series masterlist ✨

You were a fool to believe nothing could tear you and your best friend apart. Just like in the movies you'd watch for hours, you realized you were not the main character; he was. You were only part of the supporting cast, the best friend–not the one he wanted. Someone else had been occupying his mind, his thoughts, and you guessed you weren't privy to know all of him.

You wondered if you became the villain in his story. Were you the other woman? How could you have known if he never told you? He was your best friend. The one you shared everything with–your hopes, dreams, and even the dumbest little details of your life.

And maybe you expected too much. Maybe you had built a world of sunshine and rainbows and believed no storms could ever weather through. Maybe you cared too much, thinking he felt the same.

But at long last, you had become the girl jealous of Josie–the person who took away your best friend.

The city you lived in had grown vastly the last time you were here. Multiple lanes were added to the highways, and fields of land were cleared out for new homes, shops, and restaurants to try. Though the only thing on your mind was not bumping into him.

His was the only face you didn't want to run into in a city that felt familiar and unfamiliar. It felt silly. You're a grown woman with a car and an apartment–had bills to pay, and running into one person shouldn't haunt you as it did.

You might have done some detective work, going through old high school friends lists on Facebook and Instagram, lurking to see if he would show up. But as you suspected, he didn't exist on social media, so your chances of seeing him increased in your weird little mind.

The old hangout places were on your no-go list. Remember, you're trying to avoid him. He has not been on your mind every waking second, minute and hour. You weren't wondering how he was doing or if he was okay. He didn't deserve to occupy your mind, take all your energy.

But if you were to bump into him, you had a monologue ready to tell him how he had fucked up your mind, spiked all your insecurities, and hoped he and his stupid little girlfriend lived unhappily ever after. He deserved that, at least.

"Did you see Lillie's Instagram post? The one where a bunch of them were out celebrating Josie's birthday?" Lana asked, sipping on her iced vanilla latte. Lana was another high school best friend who didn't stomp all over your heart.

And regarding Lillie's post, it was hard not to see it when everyone you knew was tagged. Some things never change, you guessed. The same circle of friends, the same drama, the same gossip, but then again, you were sitting with one of your oldest friends.

"Yeah, I saw it."

And you also noticed how Jungkook wasn't in any photos. After doing your detective research and scouring through the internet. He was a ghost, not even showing up in tagged photos. You were hoping to get a glimpse of him in the background, but you hadn't seen a picture of him in years, so you had no idea if he had grown into that big 'ol nose of his or if he had gotten those piercings and tattoos he's always wanted. There was no trace of this man, not even in Josie's pictures.

Last you heard, they were still together, and you always rolled your eyes hard, remembering what Jeon Jungkook did to you. Didn't even have the fucking balls to say it to your face, but in a letter instead.

You suspected it was all Josie's fault. Probably afraid you'd steal him away, or he'd prefer to hang out with you. And you understood, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything, just a friend. Ex-best friend, that is. So you supposed any girl that did like Jungkook would be intimidated by your friendship.

"Have you seen Jungkook at all?"

Lana knew what went down–dropping you like a fly, like you didn't exist. She had teased you like a madwoman because you were crushing hard on his friend, Jimin, and somehow ended up befriending Jungkook.

"Nope," you said flatly.

"So, you know how we always talk about Jungkook being untraceable? I think I found him," she said, pulling out her phone.

Your jaw clenched before huffing out a breath. Lana liked to poke the bear when it came to Jungkook. You knew it wasn't intentional, and there was a part that held onto those painful memories because you weren't over what he did to you. Countless nights of questions and if you could've done anything to save your friendship. Wondering what you did wrong and why he picked Josie instead of you. You thought he had feelings and just didn’t want to act on it.

Lana slid the phone over, her two fingers zooming in on a brightened photo. "It's definitely Jungkook," she pointed to a figure in the background.

You narrowed your eyes as she moved the photo around. Your heart skipped a beat. You'd recognize that nose anywhere. It was him. He wasn't a ghost. There was actual evidence that he existed.

"I searched for more photos, but nothing else came up."

You chuckled. "Of course not. Jeon Jungkook doesn't exist on social media. It was never his thing anyway. It was always Josie who liked the attention."

"As a couple, they make no sense to me. What does he see in her anyway?" Lana pondered, sucking up the last of her latte.

Josie was popular and pretty and did every extracurricular activity known to man. Jungkook was quite the opposite: introverted, kept to himself, played games day and night, yet somehow they still ended up together.

"I don't know. Maybe she has a great personality or something," you answered.

She had everything and could’ve had anyone in the senior class, and something always bothered you about their relationship. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Lana could see your despair and decided to change the subject. "What are you doing tonight? Jimin is having a small party and was super excited when I told him you moved back."

You narrowed your eyes, your lips thinned. "What are we? In high school again?"

"Come on, babe. It'll be just like old times. I'll even pick you up. I know you hate driving."

It's only been a week since you've moved back. You didn't even know where all of your cute clothes were. "I have nothing to wear." It was the best excuse you could come up with at the moment.

"I got you. Don't worry about it!"

Fuck—you should've opted for a different excuse.

"I thought you said this was a small party," you said, wearing a dress that was barely covering your ass. You'd get Lana back for putting you in the tightest dress.

"Trust me, this is small." Lana hooked her arm with yours, dragging you to the kitchen, where Jimin poured several soju bottles and sodas into a pitcher. It was quite the concoction.

“How can he afford this place?” you whispered as you stared at the fancy marbled island and large commercial refrigerator.

Lana shrugged. “I don’t think he lives by himself. Probably has roommates or something.”

"Ladies! You're here!" Jimin squealed, setting down the soju bottle. He hugged Lana before greeting you warmly. "Oh—it's so good to see you!" He wrapped his arms around you, moving you from side to side, digging his chin into your shoulder.

"It's good to see you too, Jimin. You're, um, still quite the host." His parties were all the rage in high school, and now that you look back, you're unsure what you saw in Jimin. He was a good guy, a great dancer, but he partied too much for your taste. Maybe you were shallow and just liked him for his looks.

"I have a reputation to uphold." He wiggled his eyebrows, handing you a shot glass. "I call this little drink 'Soju Sunrise.'" He held his glass, waiting for you to clink it against his.

"Here goes nothing." The glasses clack together, and the mixed liquids go down your throat as smooth as silk. Surprisingly, the cocktail is rather tasty, and you hold out your glass for another round.

"Yes! That's my girl!"

After multiple rounds of Jimin's Soju Sunrise, your body loosened up along with your tongue, being quite the chatterbox to everyone hanging around. The alcohol coursing through your veins made catching up with old friends less dull. Though you wish you could've had a sign plastered to you stating your job, why you were back, and what you've been up to. It would've made your life simpler.

As you exited the bathroom, Lana immediately pulled you into an empty bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"What the fuck, Lana?"

"He's here!" she exclaimed out of breath.

"Who?" Confusion sets on your face.

“He-who-must-not-be-named!”

"Voldemort?" You raised a brow, pouting your lips together.

She struck your head. You scowled, rubbing the spot. Still confused, you think back to the crowded room.

A lightbulb finally goes off. You blame the Soju Sunrise for making you an airhead. "You've got to be kidding me."

"She's here too."

Oh, how you'd rather be clawing your eyes out right now. It would hurt less than facing Jungkook and Josie after all these years.

You had your little monologue prepared and ready to go, but you didn't think you'd have to recite it. Did you even remember what you wanted to say?

You looked around the room and sprinted when you saw a window. Your hands fumbled with the lock, but it was too hard to open.

"What are you doing?" Lana asked, her eyebrows knitted together, watching you struggle.

"I'm gonna climb out the window." It was the only sensible thing to do.

"You're so fucking dramatic."

"It's the only way to avoid them."

Lana grabbed your arms and made you look at her. "You are a grown-ass woman. Put on your big girl panties and walk out that door with your head held high."

"But I don't wanna," you pout. "And I'm wearing granny panties." You lowered your head, staring at your dress, picturing the blush-colored panties with a little bow on the front.

"Granny panties with this dress?"

"What? I couldn't find other ones and I like full coverage." Curse you for not unpacking like you should've been doing.

"Would've been better if you went commando."

"Lana! I have some dignity."

"Do you, though? You won't even leave this room and face the one person who broke your heart."

"Thanks, Lana," you said flatly.

"You're welcome!" she smiled, shaking your body. "Come on. You can do this. I believe in you." You rolled your eyes, staring blankly at her. She scanned you from head to toe, then back up to your chest. "Sweetie, we gotta make sure your tits are stunning." She dragged down the top of the dress, ensuring the swells of your breasts were peeking through.

"Lana, I'm not trying to seduce the guy." Okay—maybe you developed a crush on him, but it's not like you were going to make a move, he had a girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

"Yeah, who cares? We're trying to make Josie jealous."

"This is so high school," you comment, digging through your purse for your lipstick.

"Your point is?" Lana blinked.

You huffed. Okay—fine. If this were the only time you'd see Jeon Jungkook and Kim Josie, then fuck it. You could pretend everything was great for five minutes. Your hand went underneath your dress, tugging off your granny panties and tossing them on the ground.

"Holy shit—going commando too?" Lana squealed and clapped excitedly.

Hiking your dress up just a smidge, you were ready to smile and lie through whatever this dreaded conversation would bring up, probably old feelings of hurt and regret.

You hooked your arm through Lana's, with your shoulders back and head held high. This was it. After all this time, you would face the son-of-a-bitch who broke your heart and the cruel witch who took him away.

You had class—at least, you hoped you did. So, you'd play it cool, be calm and collected. Pretend like you had your shit together.

That is until you turned the corner and immediately spotted them snuggled up in the corner. Josie looked like a lovesick puppy all over him. Jungkook, not so much.

You clutched Lana's arm tighter and came to a halt. You repeated your short monologue in your brain from the bedroom to the living room, but it was as if your mind had wiped everything and your brain's connectors were short-circuiting.

Your eyes glistened as you watched the two. Josie sat on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him. Your lower lip quivered, and your stomach sank. You weren't sure if you needed to hurl because of them or because of the soju. Perhaps both.

Jungkook pulled away from her grasp, seemingly annoyed by her show of affection. As soon as he turned away from her, his eyes landed on you.

You flashed a small smile and a wave of your hand. Who knew seeing Jungkook would make you feel the complete opposite of the narrative you had created? In your head, he was a heartless best friend who left you for a wicked witch, but here he was in the flesh and was just that big-nosed, doe-eyed boy whom you shared everything with. You missed him so much and wanted to catch up on life like no time had passed.

Lana turned to you. "Hey, what happened to the bad bitch persona? Aren't you gonna tell him off?"

"I'm so stupid, Lana. I can't do this." So much anger had been building up within the last seven years, but underneath that anger was just a girl who was heartbroken.

Lana nudged you in the ribs. You two watched as he pushed Josie off his lap, causing her to frown. You attempted to let go, but she pulled you in as Jungkook beelined toward you.

"Oh, my god! Jeon Jungkook in the flesh?" Lana said in a dramatic tone. "You do exist! I can't believe it. Well, I'm going to find myself another drink! Have fun catching up with your bestie!" She punched Jungkook's shoulder hard, and he scowled and flinched, massaging the spot.

You pressed your lips together, unsure what to say to him. It's been seven years since you last saw him. Once you graduated from high school, you were out of each other's hair. You were off to college a few hours away, and he stayed in town to attend a local university.

Jungkook cut off all forms of communication. It was like your friendship ceased to exist, which hurt you the most. The last thing you received from him was a measly little letter explaining that he was with Josie and that she didn't want you coming in between their relationship.

You couldn't understand why Jungkook couldn't just talk to you. Josie was never mentioned in conversations, nor did you see him with her, so it felt out of left field. If Jungkook told you he liked someone, you'd never stand in the way of his happiness. You thought he knew you better than that, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe you didn't know each other at all.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Jungkook said, the corners of his mouth curving into a warm smile.

You only paid attention to the glow-up Jungkook had. He did get the lip piercings he wanted, along with the tattoos. You could see them peeking through underneath his gray hoodie hanging off his shoulder. The white tank top defined his taut chest, letting you know he liked to work out. His damp hair curled in all the right places against the nape of his neck and his forehead. The silver chain adorning his neck looked pretty enough to tug on.

"You look great, by the way," Jungkook added, breaking you out of your daze.

"Oh, thanks. So do you." You manage to squeak out finally; then you remember how provocative you looked in your dress compared to sweet, innocent, looking Josie in her pink floral sundress, who was making their way toward you.

"Jungkook, can we please get a drink?" Josie whined, giving you the once over before latching onto Jungkook like the leech she was.

"You remember—"

Josie interrupted, "Yeah–don't remind me. Can we go?"

Josie stormed off toward the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook behind. Did he have any say in their relationship, or did she tug him around like a puppy on a short leash?

You're stunned but not surprised by her remark. Once a bitch, always a bitch.

Turning your attention back to him, you realize you have nothing to say. The scars from this friendship were carved deeply into your heart; not even the monologue you rehearsed could dissipate the pain he caused.

"I—I gotta go," you said, taking off toward the bedroom because you couldn't fucking leave your underwear on a random stranger's floor. You had to save whatever dignity you had left.

"Wait—" He tried to grab your attention and followed you, walking through the hallway toward a room. He watched you go from one end of the room to the other, searching for something. "What are you doing in my room?"

You straighten your posture, slowly turning to him. "This is your room?"

"Yeah, Jimin and I share this place along with another friend.”

Oh, now you were going to fucking kill Lana. She knew. She must have! That's why she wanted to bring you here. And out of all the rooms, you had to pick Jeon Jungkook’s to leave your underwear in?

"Great," you said in exasperation. You turned back around in search of your panties. "Where the fuck is it?" It could only be in so many places.

"Where's what?"

You got down on your hands and knees, tugging your dress down, looking underneath the bed for your granny panties. "Nothing," you grumbled. "Fuck it. Forget it." You stood, walking past Jungkook. He could have your underwear as a keepsake, you suppose.

"Hey—" He gripped your arm. "Come on. This is how you greet me after all this time?"

You scoffed, glaring at him. "You're fucking kidding me, right? You're lucky I'm even speaking to you. You don't even deserve that."

He lets go of your arm. "We kind of ended on a sour note, but it wasn't my fault."

He couldn't see it, but smoke was fuming from your ears, and you wished your death glare could burn through him and maybe even through Josie. How fucking dare he put all the blame on you? And for what exactly? You might add that you did nothing but be his friend, and he ghosted you like you meant nothing to him.

"So it's my fault?" You assumed he was placing the blame on you. "How is it my fault? Please enlighten me, Jungkook."

He quieted down, cowering his head.

"You showed up holding hands with Josie, then proceeded to not talk to me like a human being and instead wrote me a fucking letter like the coward you are. A letter, for fucks sake. You could've had the common decency to say it to my face."

You walked out of language class, and there they were, hand in hand as you idly watched from behind. And he didn’t even hand you the letter. He had stuffed it in your locker.

Your words took him aback. His recount of how everything went down was different from yours. "I'm sorry," he said. His eyes flicked to yours before looking away.

"Well, it's too fucking late for apologies."

Jungkook called out to you, and you didn't look back, storming away from him. You passed by Lana, telling her you were leaving and that you'd talk to her later.

You ran out the front door, stopping at the sidewalk's edge, remembering that Lana drove. "Fuck," you grumbled, pulling out your phone to grab an Uber.

You were stupid to think Jeon Jungkook wouldn't affect you after all these years. Maybe it's because you haven't dealt with feeling abandoned by him. Maybe you wished you did more for your friendship. Whatever the reason, you knew moving back wasn't a good idea because you’d have to deal with this.

"Hey!" Jungkook called out. You looked over your shoulder and continued walking. He ran in front of you to grab your attention. "Can you talk to me?" he asked, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Why don't you fucking write me a letter? Since you're so good at that," you mocked as you shuffled around him. He was a shitty writer who could barely pass Creative Writing without your help.

"That's not fair."

You scoffed, stopping in your tracks to turn back to him. "Run back to your little girlfriend. Don’t you have to get her approval first before talking to me?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

You tut. "Yeah–okay." That was hard to believe, considering she was all over him.

"She's not. We haven't been together for a while now," Jungkook explained.

"You looked pretty cozy earlier."

Jungkook looks at the ground, kicking around an invisible rock. "It's complicated."

"That's great, Jungkook, but I really don't want to hear about your relationship problems. Good luck with Josie and in life. You two deserve each other." You pulled out your phone to see if the Uber was arriving.

Crossing your arms, you walked back toward Jimin's place. You wish you pinned the pick-up location somewhere else, but you'd have to endure his presence longer.

Jungkook followed, giving you some space, stopping when you did. His eyes raked over you. His dimple appeared and disappeared as he licked his lips and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"When you got your acceptance letter to college, and you decided you were leaving, you didn't bother to ask about what I thought," he said, hands still in his pocket, staring at the ground. Your eyes flickered to him before looking away. He softly chuckled, "I thought to myself, what would I do without my best friend? I had nothing going for me, didn't even know what I wanted to do—still don't know what I want to do. And as much as you make me out to be the bad guy in your story, there are a lot of things you don't know."

You turned away from him as your eyes began to well up. You didn't want to cry before him, rehashing things from so long ago. You let out a shaky breath, trying to contain your emotions.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, using the back of your hand to wipe away the snot threatening to fall.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I would never want to keep you from something that made you happy," he admitted.

You were always open with each other, so you're unsure why this one thing made it seem like he couldn't be honest with you.

"Tell me one thing."

Jungkook hummed.

"Why didn't you tell me about Josie?" It was the one question that lingered since you received his letter.

His lips thinned. "Honestly?" You nodded. "It all happened so quickly. Jimin was throwing a party that night when you told me about going off to college, and I was in my head, overthinking everything. And Josie was there, being sweet and comforting me, and I don't know what came over me. I just kissed her to make myself feel better. Then, the next day at school, she took my hand and told everyone we were together."

"So, let me get this straight? I told you I'm going off to college. You get upset, kiss Josie because you were mad about me leaving, and then end up in a relationship with her?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."

You turned to him, hitting him across the chest several times. He held his hands up to block you. "Because Jeon Jungkook, it is ridiculous! God–you're such—a—" you groaned. "Do you know how much you hurt me? We could've avoided all this if you had just talked to me. Life could've been different for us. You could've come with me, and then we could've been together."

"Together?" He stared at you with his starry brown eyes.

"Yes, you dummy! I liked you, if you couldn't tell. I was going to tell you, but then you and Josie happened, and well, you know how the rest of the story goes."

You closed your eyes and let out a long-awaited breath. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, getting all this out in the open. You weren't expecting Jungkook to do anything to make you feel better, but at least he could hear what you wanted to say after all these years.

Your uber pulled up and you opened the door, holding onto it as you looked at Jungkook. A glimpse of the boy you once knew still lingered in his eyes. If you could go back and do it all over again, you would've fought harder for him, fought for what the two of you had. It was too precious of a friendship to let go just like that. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way.

There were no forms of time travel or alternate dimensions where the two of you could've lived happily ever after, and there were only the choices you made here and now.

"Bye, Jungkook."

✨ read part two | read part three ✨

[joels-shitty-puns]

Javing Feelings

Javier Peña x Inexperienced!Reader

Summary: You have been dating Javier for six months now, and the two of you finally slept together for the first time as a couple (and your first time ever). However, you can't seem to stop fantasizing about giving a blowjob for the first time. Luckily you have Javi to help you learn.

Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Smut !!!!! Porn with little plot. TBH I wanted just porn but my mind wouldn't let me and gave them a back story. Oral (m receiving, f alluding to). Masturbation (f). Kissing, biting. Nipple/breast kissing/biting. Cursing. Cum eating. Dirty talk. Let me know if I forgot anything!

Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. Inexperienced. Reader and Javi work together but reader's job isn't specified.

Word Count: 3.2K

Hi!!! I hope you enjoy this fic. There's some light Spanish in here but my Spanish is rusty. It was never great to begin with, so if it sounds weird pls let me know. I haven't finished watching Narcos and I'm not sure my portrayal of Javi is great. But I wanted to try something new and my mind had this filthy idea lol. This also required me to do a little research (!!!) because I haven't done this personally. Please let me know your thoughts!

_____

It had been six months of dating Javier Peña, and to say you were surprised was an understatement. Surprised at the length of your relationship, surprised at how loving and caring he could be. Surprised at how patient he really was.

It's not that you would ever mean to say anything poorly about his character. You loved your man, and he loved you. But the rumors that used to fly around him at work for being a player and a sex god were hard to ignore. Sleeping with his informants, openly flirting with coworkers, bringing home a new woman every weekend. He was known for frequenting strip clubs and meeting up with prostitutes, and the jokes ran endlessly in the office. Most notably, they came from his partner Steve.

So when he asked you out the first time, you said no. You had never been with a man before, and it certainly wasn't going to be a one night stand with someone like Peña. He wouldn't hit it and quit it with you. You were worth more than that, and you knew it. Even if he did look at you with those big puppy eyes. Even if his chest did peek out under that hot pink shirt that made you drool, or if he licked his plump lips before placing a cigarette in the slot below his perfectly groomed mustache. Even if he did strut through the building like he owned the place, his tight jeans hugging his ass and crotch in all the right places, making you practically salivate.

You wouldn't give in to him. You wouldn't be used for sex. You wouldn't be a fuck buddy. You needed love. You deserved love. Especially for your first time.

Now, that's not to say that you didn't think of him occasionally when you let your hands wander under your covers and below your panties. Didn't think of his lips when you ran your fingers through your arousal, or circled your finger around your clit before sliding down to your entrance. It probably would feel good if he filled it…

But you wouldn't indulge in that fantasy in real life.

_____

So when the two of you were the last ones at the bar following a work happy hour one night, you were surprised to see that he hadn't left with a woman.

He swallowed down the last of his drink before standing up and tossing a bill to the bartender. “I'm going to head home, I'll see you at work,” he grabbed his jacket off the bar.

“Wait…are you okay?” You asked him curiously, though you weren't about to ask ‘why aren't you taking a woman home?’ and make him feel bad.

Javi gave you a look, studying your face as if to wonder why you would possibly care about whether he was okay. You turned him down. You didn't like him, you weren't attracted to him. Despite the friendship you'd developed from working closely together, he obviously didn't mean as much to you as you did to him.

“I'm fine, cariño. Nothing to worry about,” he headed towards the door.

“Wait… Javi?” You grabbed your purse and your coat, throwing down a tip on the bar before following him out the door.

“Clearly something's wrong with you, why don't you talk to me?” You pleaded, stopping within touching-distance of him on the sidewalk. “Did I do something?”

“No,” he sighed. “You didn't do anything wrong. It's just me,” he shook his head, turning to walk away.

“Is this because I said I wouldn't go out with you?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

He turned, letting his eyes flash with sadness for only a second before responding. “It's okay, hermosa” he sighed. “You don't feel the same way and that's fine.”

You gave him a confused look, your eyebrows furrowing. “Do you actually have feelings for me, Javi?”

“Of course I have feelings for you cariño, why do you think I asked you out?” he ran his hand through his hair.

“I don't know…” you answered quietly, fiddling with your hands.

“Because I just wanted to fuck?” He spat.

You looked up at him, unsure of what to say. “I didn't think you'd ever actually want me because… I don't know what I'm doing. I'm inexperienced. I've never had sex before, Javi. And I don't want to lose it without building a relationship based on love first.” You whimpered, and briefly noticed a flash of surprise on his face. “And yes, not to be a bitch, but you really do have a reputation for getting around town…” you dropped your hands at your side with a sigh.

“I know,” he groaned. “I do, and I'm guilty of using sex as a coping mechanism. But I really am interested in you, cariño. And if you'd give me a chance, I'll go as slow as you want or need. I’ve spent so many nights trying to fuck away my emotions and it hasn't helped. But,” he ran his hand down his face before continuing. “The first time I saw you, it's like everything felt… easier when I was around you.”

He took a step towards you. “I tried to push the feelings aside, because truthfully it scared the shit out of me. I haven't had those feelings in a very long time, if ever. But pushing it away never worked with you.” He reached for your hand, and you took it.

_____ 

Ever since that moment, the two of you have been slowly developing a meaningful relationship. From your first date, to your first kiss, Javi has been nothing but sweet and patient. It wasn't until recently when you decided to let him take your virginity.

You were beyond nervous, especially upon seeing the size of him. But he was gentle and loving, making sure you were ready well before he entered you. You couldn't have asked for a nicer first time, or a sweeter man. 

But there was still one thing you hadn't tried yet that you had been itching to attempt.

It's something you had thought of before, while watching porn or daydreaming. A fantasy you considered while developing your feelings on Javi and imagining him. But when you finally saw his cock with your own eyes for the first time, it was like a spell spread over you and you wouldn't be able to expel it until you gave in to your desires.

So when Javi told you he'd be coming over to spend the weekend, you couldn't wait to play out your fantasy. 

_____

Javier opened the door to your apartment, using the key you gave him last month after you first exchanged I-Love-Yous. Dropping his bag on the kitchen bar, he strolled over to you, pulling you into a deep kiss, letting his hands graze over your ass with a squeeze. “Mi amor,” he whispered, nibbling your ear.

“Javi…” you replied breathlessly already. He pulled away, giving you a mischievous look with his raised brow. Sure, it wasn't uncommon for you to be putty in his hands, but he could tell something had gotten into you today.

“What's got you all worked up, querida?” He kissed your lips again, asking for entrance to your mouth, to which you obliged. “Cat got your tongue?” He practically purred, scraping his teeth against your tongue before gently biting your lip.

You moaned into his mouth before pulling away just enough to whisper. “I wanna try something, Javi…”

He kissed you deeper, then drew back to look into your eyes. “What do you want to try, mi paloma?” (My dove)

Based on his response, you could only imagine his mind was assuming you had chaste fantasies of kissing him in public, or sex in a slightly more adventurous position than the missionary you started with.

But for the first time, you surprised him when you whispered in his ear, “please, let me suck your dick, Javi.”

He froze, swallowing thickly, letting you see his Adam's apple bob. His eyes were wide as saucers. “You..” he stumbled over his words.

“Mmhm…”, you began to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt.

“You don't have to do that, cariño.” His tongue darted out over his lips, the surprise making his mouth dry.

“Please, Javi,” you whined. “I want to. I can't stop thinking about it. Especially after I saw you on our first night together. I want it so badly. Let me taste you. Let me please you.”

“Especially? You mean you had thought of it before we made love?” He asked, incredulous.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Ever since I saw you in those tight pants the first day we met,” you kissed his lips, finally unbuttoning the last button on his shirt before pulling it down his shoulders as the two of you stumbled into the bedroom.

“Fuck. Dirty girl,” he hissed, removing your shirt and kissing you, all the while wrapping his arms around your waist to seamlessly unhook your bra. His hands swept over your sides before returning to your chest to cup your breasts.

Javi’s kisses traced from your lips down to your neck before finally taking your nipple between his lips. He gently sucked on it, swirling his tongue around and giving gentle nibbles to your breasts. 

You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sliding them down just enough for his cock to release from the confines and bounce to attention. He was already hard and waiting, his tip drooling precum.

“Sit,” you told him, pushing down on his shoulder and directing him towards the edge of the bed.

“Sí, señorita,” he answered, easily caving to your demands and removing the rest of his pants from his legs. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he spread his thighs apart, giving you ample space to work with, his heavy cock bouncing against his torso with every movement.

Your mouth watered as you sank to your knees on the carpet and crawled over between his legs, the space you wished to live in. Running your hands up his thighs, you spread him even further.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, sending a wave of lust through Javi’s body before you spoke. “I've never done this before Javi. You may need to help guide me.”

Javi looked to the sky in silent praise as you turned your attention back to his waiting cock. You were now eye to eye with it, and slowly you moved your hand to wrap around his length. You gently pulled his foreskin down to reveal his most sensitive area, causing Javier to tremble at the contact. But it wasn't until you began to stroke him while placing a gentle kiss to his leaking tip that his body jerked forward in need. You gave a light lick, swirling your tongue around him before taking him in your mouth completely. 

The taste was new. His precum tasted salty and slightly sweet, but mostly you tasted clean skin and saliva. His scent is what really took over your senses. The natural scent that made your mouth water the first time you smelled him. The aroma that distinctly meant… Javi. 

He wore a cologne that made you swoon, kept strong enough to fill your nostrils, but not overpowering to be used in lieu of a shower. Javi always smelled nice. Clean and freshly shaved, he had a light scent of soap, aftershave, shaving cream, and men's deodorant. The lingering scent of shampoo. The sweet smell of nicotine and a whispered bite of alcohol. Leather from his jacket. The cool intensity of his mint toothpaste and gum that always seemed to nip at your nose when he spoke.

Even when he had just run across the city to chase a criminal, his sweat and musk drew you in like a feral animal. The way his pink shirt clung to his soaked back, chest, and arms; the way his wet hair fell onto his forehead. Your eyes wanted to live on his skin. As much as you tried to ignore Javi those first months of knowing each other, everything about him made you want to jump his bones. His persona oozed sexual appeal and that scared you. That made you want to run for the hills.

“Fuck me,” he sighed, head tilting back while his hips jerked upwards of their own accord. You removed your lips with a sucking pop and once again ran your hands over his thighs. You kept reaching, wrapping your arms around his back and grabbing the part of his ass that wasn't seated with a squeeze.

“Does this feel good, Javi?” You leaned in, licking the underside of his penis from the base to the head, stopping at the tight frenulum tissue and kissing, just like you would his lips.

“Fuck, yes, mierda, keep going,” Javi whined, jerking his hips forward, his tip brushing your waiting lips.

“Tell me how you want it, Javi,” you took the head in your mouth, licking and sucking.

“Just like that. Fuck. Swirl your tongue around,” he demanded.

You obliged, swirling your tongue around the head and finally the leaking tip, your lips still surrounding him. You sunk down further, taking more of him in your mouth and licking the veins on his underside as you slowly drifted further, his tip reaching the back of your throat.

“Fuck, yes,” Javi whimpered, babbling a string of curses as you began to work him in your mouth, up and down, your hand meeting the rhythm of your mouth. Saliva dropped from your mouth as you worked faster, Javier groaning in response. You went to wipe your chin with your other hand, only to have your wrist grabbed. “Leave it,” he hissed. “You look so fucking sexy like this, baby. Drunk on my cock, messy and blown out. Fuck, you're so good,” he rambled.

You smiled around his dick, continuing your movements and letting out a moan of your own pleasure. Finally you had him in your mouth and it was everything you imagined. This wouldn't be the last time, and you could hardly wait to taste his release.

Your hips jerked forward, pussy clenching on air, and you reached down with your other hand to rub frantic circles on your clit. Your eyes squeezed closed as you continued to play with both him and now yourself. Whimpers and moans fell from your lips and his, Javi lifting his head from the back of his neck to look down at you.

“Shit. Baby, are you touching yourself too? Pussy so desperate to be filled when my cock is in your mouth?” His voice rumbled, deep and primal, yet pained and desperate all the same.

“Mmhm,” you choked, trying to take him deeper than your throat would allow.

Javi reached out, cupping the back of your head as you took him as far as you could, stroking the rest of him with the hand not between your own legs. Your eyes squeezed tighter, tears brimming as you pushed too far again. “Gentle mi amor, you'll hurt yourself. Too big for that tight throat of yours,” he cooed, gripping your hair tighter. Saliva continued to drip from your mouth as you worked him faster, matching the rhythm with the hand on your clit. You inserted two fingers into your pussy, pumping a few times before alternating between your sensitive clit again.

Both Javi's and your hips jerked forward at their own accord, your bodies so desperate for release, you were both right on the cusp of teetering over the edge. Your moans and whimpers grew louder, Javi's curses continuing, yet the slick noise of wet skin from your mouth and hands prevailed as the loudest in the room. Squelching and sucking filled the air, an orchestra of filthy euphony.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby, where do you want it?” Javi strained to ask, tension lining his jaw.

You removed him just enough to reply, “my mouth, please, Javi, let me taste you.” Immediately you returned your attention to the task at hand.

“Shit,” he groaned as you pumped the length of his cock that didn't meet your lips. His hips jerked and release spilled onto your tongue, salty and sweet. With his climax, you fell over your pleasure point as well, body shaking and tensing, your thighs clenching around your fingers as you frantically rocked against the air. You let out a pained squeal around his cock as you came in your hand.

His hips began to slow, the last of his salty release dripping onto your tongue. With a final suck, you removed your mouth with a pop and opened your mouth for Javi. White, creamy release dripped from your tongue onto his thigh and quickly you closed your mouth with a giggle, swallowing him and licking the spilled cum from his leg.

Meeting your eyes with his, Javi looked absolutely wrecked, his eyes dark and hair disheveled. He panted, and despite having just finished, you could still see the fire of lust in his stare. You imagined you looked the same, drunk on his cock and his release, your own orgasm having just subsided as well. You were somehow still hungry for more, and it seemed you were never fully quenched with Javi around. You'd always want more, no matter how much he gave you.

Javi grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap to straddle him. Though he was softening under you, your hips still jerked at the contact. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep kiss.

You pulled away, looking at him a moment before asking “you don't mind kissing me after I just had your cum in my mouth?”

Javi looked at you as if you spoke another language before realizing you meant it. “Fuck no, baby that was the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I don't mind tasting myself on your tongue. Ever,” he kissed you again, deeper this time. His tongue swirled with yours and you tasted his cum and his saliva, his scent filled your nose, and his body encompassed yours. Everything around you was Javi.

“I don't mind tasting myself on your lips either,” you pulled away, whispering shyly before going in for another kiss.

Javi pecked your lips, pulling away and raising his brow. “Oh? No?” He teased you. Your cheeks heated and you began to look away, but he lifted your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “We can make that happen,” he growled, kissing your lips and picking you up from his lap. He manhandled you like a sack of flour, easily tossing you to the bed with ease as he settled between your legs, his mouth inches from your waiting pussy. 

“Ready for round two?” He smirked, nipping your thigh.

“Always, with you Javi,” you whined, and he dove in, pleasuring you the way you did him. 

You were never surprised at his sexual prowess, but once again you were pleasantly amazed at his level of care and love he devoted to you. You didn't regret waiting, though you were glad he was willing to wait with you. The new experiences with him just grew better and better with each day.

If you told yourself months ago that you would be in bed, in love, happily wrapped in the arms of Javier Peña, you would have laughed at the thought. But then again, life is full of surprises.

[shunshunrika]

Megumi being rough dom🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

Y'all turning me into a Megumi Stan account (yeah he's my fav bitch but I'm feeling gojo lately).

I will do this concept for a larger set of jjk characters 😌

Jujutsu Kaisen! boys as ROUGH Doms

Warnings: afab!reader, aged up, SMUT, all kinds of things, don't read if not comfortable - nothing is abusive or nonconsensual or weird though.

Megumi Fushiguro

Trial and error rough dom. Rough intercourse isn't something that Megumi particularly knows a lot about and he takes it upon himself to try out different things to see what you like best. It's a new routine each time. One day he would experiment with handcuffs and leg cuffs, another day would be choking you till your eyes roll back, the third time would be stretching you into challenging positions to make sure his cock buries deep in, his weepy penis head kissing your insides with each violent thrust. He'd find that in all of his trials, decorating you with scratches and hickeys is by far the most common outcome.

"You look pretty all marked up by me."

Satoru Gojo

Cocky rough dom. Talks a lot. By a lot, I mean a LOT. and it's all about how good of a fuck he is. Won't stop comparing himself to his mates when he is skewering into you with his lengthy member. You let him though since you're get a marvelous sex session out of it.

"Do ya think Suguru or Nanami fuck their girls this good?"

"You think any of them can last this long?"

"You think any of them cum as much as I would? I'd fill you up till it reaches your uterus yknow."

It's all good though since it really contributes to making you a wet, wet mess just for your stuck up boyfie. If you let him boast on, he might eat you out for hours as a gift, licking your pussy dry as a desert.

Suguru Geto

Mean rough dom. He would do no position other than doggy and it's derivatives since he wants to see his cock go in and out and destroy you in 4K. He'd say a lot of derogatory stuff. Call you his whore. Spit in your mouth. Cum on your face. He gropes your ass hard, aiming to get atleast 3 climaxes out of you, gritting his teeth trying to last long himself. He'd definitely make you beg for those orgasms though, denying them as long as possible, making you weep and moan for them. Maybe he'd sympathise and give in if you suck on his balls for a bit.

Kento Nanami

Calculated rough dom. Does a lot of research. Asks Around- his friends and colleagues, then apologizes for the informalness. Gojo gives him a bit too many tips, not all of which are required. Kento, who trusts Gojo shows up wearing bondage garter belts, whip in hand and cuffs ready. You are so confused for a minute before he begins spanking you with the whip just the right way, with mathematically perfect intensity and angle. certified nipple biter. Would make your maidens go all red and raw. Prefers to fuck you after that with your legs spread eagle, ass in the air and you laying on your belly. When his cum dribbles out, he push it all back in again and again.

Toji Fushiguro

Unintentional rough dom. He is a womanizer™ but he doesn't actually go hard on purpose. He's just built like a bull, with a personality to match. It's no surprise that even a short, soft session would end with you fucked mindless, unable to think or speak - eyes crossed, tongue lolling out. He won't stop until his cum is decorating your face, the insides of your pussy, leaking out of your asshole, sticking in between your thighs, pooling in the fold of your stomach, collecting on your nipples. All of these weren't handjobs, one of your holes was used each time and by the end of it, you pray you don't pass out. That is just how Toji gives back to his girl.

[animasola86]

or: how I see werewolves and how I made them fit into the universe A Night to Remember is set in

Bear, the werewolf featured in A Knot to Remember and A Hug to Remember, comes from a long line of shapeshifters, allowing him to turn into a large black bear, a big wolf or a fox (if he's feeling playful) on his own will.

He was cursed with lycanthropy by a shaman.

He can't control turning into a werewolf, which happens only one week a month (from three days before to three days after a full moon) and only during the active hours of the moon (between moonrise and moonset*).

(*While writing my A Night to Remember series, I did not properly research when the moon rises and sets in late October, so you'll find that the moon is actually present during the night which isn't possible as it set around 5pm on Halloween (if I look at the 2024 data), but as a reminder: I write fantasy stories and I didn't know any better, and I might do the same mistake again because it'll fit the plot better. So, uh, yeah.)

He learned to control his urges over the years/decades (age is undisclosed, but he's older than you think).

He used to be a ravenous beast, unable to control himself, but managed to find and ground himself with meditation and herbs/teas/drugs?

He can't turn others into werewolves, as it's part of his curse, forcing him to live alone.

(The curse came from an angry shaman. His family used to take care of a large piece of land. When others came, they built a house on their grounds, forcing them to either leave or work for them. They settled for the role of groundskeeper, but some of his tribe were against it. The shaman cursed the house to slip in and out of existence, trapping the inhabitants inside, and his family to turn into monsters (werewolves) to further keep people away from the land.)

He can still make someone his mate, marking them, and other supernatural beings (e.g. vampires) will know that particular human is taken.

(By the way, the vampires living in the cemetery near the house were also cursed. They used to belong to the house but weren't inside when the curse hit, so they turned into the bloodsuckers the shaman thought they were.)

Bear is the last of his kind and is very focused on producing heirs (though it's not clear if he's even fertile, the curse may have taken that away as well – only one way to find out, right?)

Disclaimer: I don't claim to be an expert in folklore or history or geography (or even moon phases apparently), I basically know nothing and I do not mean to offend anyone's beliefs or customs or traditions. I just take snippets from all the things I've heard and read and seen, and build them into my own little Frankenstein's monster-esque lore. Just as I see fit. You may see things differently, and that's completely fine. But I am the author of these little stories and this is how my brain works. And I hope this list helped you understand it a little better. Thank you for giving me your time!

See below for some visuals!

Bear's werewolf form:

large, tall, muscular, dark/black fur/skin, humanoid body except for wolfish hind legs and long bushy tail, feet and hands are paws/paw-like with long black claws, wolf head, black eyes (when horny), yellow eyes (when on the hunt/normal)

Bear's human form:

tall, muscular, short curly black hair, brown eyes, full beard, tan skin (no picture necessary, just imagine him as you like with those details)

Bear's bear form:

large black bear with light brown snout and black eyes

Bear's other forms:

black wolf: black fur with patches of gray and brown, yellow eyes

gray fox:

(Images found all through Google. The werewolf ones are probably AI generated...)

[samwinchestersbf]

"I Will"

Sam Winchester x Reader

This was based on Mitski's song, I just love her music so much.

Authors note: Suprise!! A comfort fic!! I haven't been doing the best lately, my mental health is really getting to me. I think writing this may help :) Beware of any writing mistakes, it's 4 am right now so criticism is welcomed. (silly hours for me) Non-specific reader and this one might be a little small.

Reblogs are appreciated!! <3

He was always so caring and lovely no matter what, you knew that.

However, something inside of you just ate at you for days, weeks even. It was different and difficult, causing the past to reel you back in. The 'What if' thoughts were consuming you once again.

What if that never happened to you? What if everything you went through was for nothing? What if this was the last week for you? What if you're just making it all up? What if.

The sadness was a persistent parasite, you wanted it out of you.

You were a little avoident and dismissive about it, throwing "Yep I'm good"'s at him.

He knew something was actually up with you, he attempted to try to fish it out of you.

You started to refuse to sleep in the same bed, if you did it would only be for a little bit before rising earlier than he did. You slept in the library or even the kitchen, your excuses with research and exhaustion weren't cutting it anymore.

He didn't do anything wrong, it was you being you.

He was finally able to corner you, catching you up in your lies.

You two were sitting in the impala, Dean in the store for some food on the ride home. You, in the backseat, pretending to be asleep so you could wiggle your way out of the tense situation.

"You're getting worse, I can see it. Please just talk to me, I will take good care of you."

You took a quiet deep breath to reject the tears.

You couldn't explain it to anyone out loud, it felt like an internalized argument with yourself.

An argument of upset and angry thoughts. You wanted help but the shame and bravery of asking for help was overwhelming to ignore.

His hand patiently reached for yours. It was warm and soothing. You ached for his love yet you couldn't bring yourself to embrace it.

"I'm sorry," is all you could mutter out. How could you explain to him?

Sorry Sam! The thoughts are getting worse and I'm not sure if I'll make it this time. I hope you can understand!

As if that was okay to tell him, it'll raise him to questions and concerns.

Dean came back to the car, putting an end to the situation. He was aware of how your mental state was, you weren't too hard to read.

He offered you food and you accepted it out of a hint of guilt if you didn't. You just placed the food next to you and watched the environment move when he backed out of the parking lot.

The drive was going normal, their normal brother bickering and silence. They were having a talk about the hunt you all got done with yesterday.

You decided to tune it all out, ruminating in your own world.

You thought of ways to tell him. Maybe you didn't need to, you could just lock it all away to eventually forget.

You started to feel a sense of dread building up in you so you attempted to sleep it off.

You woke up with soft whispers of your name, Sam's voice trying to wake you up.

Due to the lack of sleep and high alert you bolted up, sitting straight and facing him.

"We're here now, come inside so we can talk."

Those words made you feel small as a little kid would when they get in deep shit. You thought about it more, that's all you've been doing as of lately.

You got out of the car with Sam trailing behind you.

Dean must've been inside already, ready to booze and snooze.

The two of you just walked in the same tense atmosphere as before, making your way to your shared room.

He closed the door behind and immediately wrapped his arms around you in such a gentle way.

Obviously you couldn't help but sob in his care, you needed it so much. Repeating the words 'I'm sorry' to him over and over.

It never felt enough.

He never said anything during it, he understood sometimes you struggle. He played with your hair, guiding you to the bed to sit down with him.

"It's okay to feel this way", he replied to your aftermath of crying.

"I'm always here for you. I will always be here for you. There's no need to run and hide from it." The way he spoke to you in that tone, you wanted to melt in his love.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You shook your head still unsure of how to talk about it. He gave a simple nod and hugged you a little tighter before letting go.

"We should go clean up, we're dirty from that hunt."

Sam held your hand the entire time as he lead you to the showers.

You both stood in silence again, just appreciating each other while the water ran. You wished the peaceful intimate moments with him lasted forever.

The night ended with him holding you, the tense atmosphere now replaced with kindness and comfort.

"It's just getting really bad again, I just want it to stop."

"We can get through it together, please just stay with me for now."

[neonjellyfishart]

DEMON SLAYER X MONSTER MUSUME FANFIC

Chapter 1

First monster home

Upper moons (including Muzan) x Black Monster Biologist reader

You've been a Monster biologist for about two years now. Throughout those two years, you've been able to befriend a majority of the monsters in there. Some still don't like you, while others are still trying to trust you.

One of the monsters you were able to befriend was an ogre, her name was nakime. She was one of the first monster friends you made, you had stopped one of your disgusting coworkers trying to have his way with her. When you were done with work, you would go to her area, and she would play the biwa for you.

But something you've noticed about her was that she would get possessive, getting angry anytime she sees you with someone else. Her face would show no emotion, but you could clearly see the veins on her face and the anger in her eye.

(Fixed)

Nakime, you do know that as a Monster biologist, I'll be working along side with other monsters, and unfortunately, my coworkers as well.

Nakime places her hand on your cheek and rubs her thumb back and forth.

I know, but I don't want people messing with something that is mine...

One day, while you were still working on your research, you got a call from your old pervert boss. You went to his office and saw something you didn't expect. You saw Nakime chained up, the chains being held by 3 workers. Needles to say you were piss the fuck off.

Before you could say anything, your boss had said that they were done with researching Nakime and that he's giving you a choice. Either you adopt her, or she gets taken home by someone else. Nakime had looked at you, with a pleading look in her eye. You said yes, you weren't gonna risk Nakime getting put into a horrible place.

A few hours passed, and you finally reached home. You would be worried that Nakime wouldn't fit in your house, but luckily the job pays a lot so you were able to afford a big house. You guys go into the living room, and you remove her chains. You were giving Nakime a house tour while you were giving her a tour. You felt her grabbing your hand. You grabbed her hand back.

Nakime picked her room, and you two went went shopping for furniture, clothes, and food for Nakime as orges eat about 10 pounds of meat a day. As you and Nakime were finishing your shopping spree , your wallet could stop begging for mercy. You heard a group of people talking shit about Nakime, from commenting about her body, her skin color, everything.

Don't listen to them, Nakime... They just have nothing better to do.

It's fine. The only person's opinion i care about is yours...darling~

You tried to ignore that last part, but your face clearly exposed those butterflies that were in your stomach. You guys reached home and set up and renovated her room, which was a modern Japanese room

Alright, we're all done! So Nakime, what do you think?

I love it but it's missing something....

Huh, what is it?

Nakime picked you up and placed you in the bed, then got in bed as well. Big spooning you.

All done~

[three--rings]

thought of a story that I haven't told that tumblr may enjoy.

So I majored in psychology in undergrad, right, and when you take psych classes they almost always require you to do a certain number of hours of being an experimental research subject, right, because professors have to publish and need someone they can force into their studies without paying, right?

And like that's fine if it's 4 hours for one class, but when you're doing an entire psych major in two years like I did, that's a LOT of hours of research studies.

And we all dreamt of getting in those fun social psych experiments where they fuck with your head, right? And not the ones where they make you sit in front of a laptop and do math for an hour. (They made me DO MATH Y'ALL. "This is an experiment in how well you learn under certain conditions." Conclusion: you suck at this.)

Anyway, you'd get funny things like one time I turned up on campus on a freaking SATURDAY for a study and sat around in a courtyard with like 30 other people while nothing happened and all of us talking about like "hey, uh, do you think THIS is the study? Like to see if we leave?" But no, just no one turned up for us and we didn't get our freaking hours.

But one time I DID end up in one of those freaky social psych studies. So to be fair, I had insider knowledge, because again, psych major. So I signed up intentionally to my social psych profs study. Hoping at least it wouldn't be math.

And I arrive and am greeted by...the TA for my social psych class wearing a fat suit.

It's like IDK April or something and Texas and 80+ degrees and she's in a long skirt and a sweatshirt. And also she's MY TA. I recognize her. I even say "Oh, hi!" like I would when seeing someone I know on campus. And she greets me like she vaguely recognizes me. But, normally she is not approximately 280-300lbs.

So, I'm, like REALLY REALLY sure it's a fat suit. Like....99.5% sure.

But not 100%.

And so what the FUCK do you SAY to THAT? Well, obviously you don't say FUCKING SHIT. You pretend nothing is fucking weird, right? Because the very, very small chance that you are WRONG and this isn't a normally thin girl in a fatsuit but a real person who is shaped like that is still...NOMINALLY THERE and OMG what if you comment on it and you're WRONG?

So I get ushered into this little room and shown a bunch of pictures of people and asked to rate them on various things like competency and attractiveness, this is normal social psych survey stuff, except I'm SURE the experiment is does the person in the room with you and their appearance change your ratings.

And the whole time I'm distracted as FUCK, cause I'm just sitting there thinking "am I wrong and this isn't my TA somehow? no, no, pretty much ALMOST certain I'm right...etc." And "why would anyone be wearing a sweatshirt in this weather/building if they WEREN'T wearing a fatsuit?"

But MAYBE the point of the experiment is "will this person call out an obvious fake fat person?" And should I do so or not? Is this social pressure to conform and not speak the truth I know? Should I say something? I, uh, may have had an unknown and untreated anxiety disorder at this point in my life so, yeah I'm LOSING MY MIND and probably acting like a FREAK.

So anyway, eventually I decide okay, obviously you can't say anything because yeah...but you will be debriefed once this is over and you'll FIND OUT THE TRUTH. You won't have this lingering doubt in your mind when this is over because they will debrief you.

If you don't know human research, debriefing is when, after all the experiment data collection is over, they inform the subject of what the topic of the research was and explain any tricks or deception or anything to them. (We played distracting music to see how you did on the test...) If there was any potential distress involved it should be dealt with by examiners, etc. Usually in practice you are handed a slip of paper that explains the purpose of the study and what you did.

Usually you don't care and barely read it. But I was dying to be debriefed. I wanted her to be like "yeah I am wearing a fatsuit" and me to be like "lol, yeah I know, cause like, I know you right?" And if the secret purpose of the experiment was actually "will you say something" then I will be told that and get to explain why I didn't.

Like sometimes debrief also involves follow-up questions that helps determine why you gave responses you did or whether you should actually have your data thrown out for some outlier reason (like the person faking being fat is my fucking TA).

So we get done with all the questions and leave the small room. And we're in the antechamber and the TA is like "okay, cool, thanks bye" and directs me to the door. And doesn't hand me a debrief slip or mention debriefing AT ALL.

And now I'm fucking SPOOKED. It's a TRICK and they want you to SAY SOMETHING and you're going to try to leave without saying anything and they will then stop you and debrief you. So I wait, for like...several seconds, waiting for her to remember debrief and just get stared at so I go "oh okay" and like stutter-step my way to the door of the office and like open it and turn back and she's already gone, and so I like, step out into the quad and am like "what. the. fuck."

And I literally stand there like "should I go back in and ask to be debriefed?" Literally I knew enough to know that THIS IS THE PURPOSE OF DEBRIEFING to not leave subjects wondering about shit like this and not leave them with nagging doubts and questions.

And the only really mysterious experiment of my life just failed to debrief me.

But of course I don't do anything but walk slowly away.

And it's now 20+ years later and I never did find anything out. Except you can DAMN well bet I confirmed at my next class that 1) yeah that was TOTALLY my fucking TA, I was right and 2) NO she was actually really slim.

So I'm sure it was about how a fatsuit (or *cough* sorry "attractiveness") of an interviewer changes responses to surveys. But I'm STILL mad I wasn't debriefed because it's fucking annoying and violates HRB standards and I could have gotten them in serious trouble over that by reporting it. And also my data should have been thrown out.

Also this is why you shouldn't trust psychology studies because the subject pool is SHITTY AS FUCK. "Psychology is the study of the average American college sophomore" as one of my profs quipped and then didn't change his method of getting subjects.

[1-800-luvmail]

the nerve.

「 tws + notes: unedited, canon... violence? i mean nothing really happens, reader is just a weird lil fella (affectionate), not a meet cute,,, more like a meet stupid 」

「 gn!reader, no relationships established 」

↳ ft. montgomery gator

author's note: i had a whole idea for this. don't ask me what though becuz i have no clue anymore (｡•́-ก̀｡) ... like, the general idea (iirc correctly) was that eventually they'd be buddies and the reader would pretend to wanna help w/ the bonnie mystery or sumn while trying to fulfill their own motives— but whatever. but i clearly did not get to that at all (´｀;) and yes!!! the title is a reference to the song by the brobecks (⑅˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ )

bright neon lights shine down onto your face as you step into the pizzaplex. there's no denying you feel out of place.

the commercialized rock music blasting from the speakers, the loud, boisterous, laughter of children, the eye-bleeding colours surrounding you— a complete sensory nightmare, all in one massive labyrinth of a building.

this would have terrified you in any other circumstance. and it does. yet, for some reason, you feel the corners of your mouth twitch up slightly at the sight of this place.

the allure of the pizzaplex is undeniable to anyone who approached it— but your fascination was something different entirely.

you were just here to observe the strange ways in which this place operated. you heard rumors... small whisperings that fazbear entertainment had somehow missed when cleaning up their image. they had a fair share of skeletons in their closet. and you, ever curious, wanted to see what hid behind that shining reputation.

the company's origins were largely covered up for the most part. all online research came up inconclusive, and for what you managed to scrape up, it ended up being nothing more than forgotten webpages, blog posts, and left over negative reviews.

you knew one thing for certain though: the mess all started with the animatronics.

so, no, you weren't here for the arcade, the pizza, the live performances— that was all low priority for you. you were here to examine the technology that they used.

making your own entertainment out of something that you'd otherwise not bother to take a second glance at, all while uncovering secrets that you've always wanted to hear? this is something you simply can't resist.

you'd do anything to find out the truth.

families and their children, teenagers looking for something to do– those were the people the pizzaplex intended to draw in. but of course, an establishment built on a shady foundation which never discloses their history that runs a high tech entertainment center is bound to draw in another demographic: people who want to uncover secrets. 

you knew a fair share of urban explorers online— mostly fans— who’d try to break in after hours to get to places guests shouldn’t be, steal stuff they definitely aren’t meant to get their hands on (you recall specifically when snagged some seasonal accessories meant from glamrock chica which was… well. weird and specific but whatever), find merch in the back that went unsold or discontinued, or even just try to see if they still had bonnie's parts somewhere in the back.

that was a whole other thing in itself. you didn't know why that bunny was so popular, but it was undeniable the mystery of his sudden decommission was intriguing. you had decent knowledge on it. begrudgingly so. most people clogged online forums filled with their theories on it.

no matter what they were there for, they were practically always caught. they'd go explore but swiftly get caught, receiving hefty fines for trespassing and lifetime bans. if they were lucky enough to escape, they'd still get in trouble within the next few days. naturally, most people kept their investigations online. it was the smart thing to do.

but none of them were searching for what you wanted. you didn't care about the dead stock in the back, the animatronics seasonal accessories, and hell— not even the bonnie mystery.

so maybe it wasn't all too surprising you came to visit.

the first time you came, the establishment was in full swing. the busiest time for the pizzaplex, on the busiest day. you ended up watching a performance, grabbed some overpriced food to eat (the food made exclusively by staff bots- how fascinating...) and then, just picked up and left.

you weren't gonna stay and chat with the animatronics when they were being swarmed by children and devoted fans. no way. crowds were bad enough. crowds of children? you shudder just thinking of it.

the next few times, you were careful. you noted patterns of active hours and made sure to arrive right about when the daycare closed, in order to avoid the larger crowds. in the last few hours of the pizzaplex being open, you’d finally be able to stick around until closing to walk around and explore.

no, you never met your goal of actually talking to the animatronics, despite your interest in meeting any one of them (your social anxiety somehow was not limited to human interaction) so you just... lurked.

yes, you spent your time haunting the pizzaplex until it was time to go. with the sheer amount of hours that you spent there, you could've easily become another urban legend on the internet— the strange ghost of the pizzaplex that lurks and stalks around near closing hours. they look like a normal person– but look in their direction and they retreat! ...it might've been funny.

even though that wasn't the case, and you were practically nobody, you certainly didn't go unrecognized. ai facial recognition. what a creation! and though typically used for regulars and being able to address guests personally, it could be used for anyone who visited. not like you knew.

as you became more familiar with the place— in your cluelessness, the place became more familiar with you.

unknown to you, the working staff bots turned their heads to catch a small glimpse of you when you passed, the daycare attendant stared at you through the glass– even the glamrocks found themselves occasionally scanning the crowd for your face. you weren't just another person with too much time on your hands, you came here more often than almost any person ever had. and still, you never talked to a single one of them, never stuck around one area for too long, and didn’t have a routine to your visits. your motives remained unclear to them.

saturdays were more hectic than usual, and if you were even the slightest bit more sane, you would've at least thought twice to try and spend a full day here, opening to closing.

lucky for you, you did consider it twice! you thought it over many times– unfortunately, you were still lacking any form of sanity.

instead of just leaving at closing as per usual, you decided you would somehow hide after closing hours to explore the place once all operations had been shut down.

easy enough in your head. you knew a couple spots which were typically off limits to most people that you could camp out in undetected, previously used by more successful urban explorers. then you'd snoop around a bit more, and then sneak back out again. simple.

all you needed to do was avoid staff bots. challenging, yes, but not impossible.

the fated day came and went— and as they announced for closing and people trickled out, you knew that your day began.

finally. you would have some answers.

—

oh god. this was a bad idea. very, very bad.

something you hadn't known, was that the glamrocks doubled as security. they roamed the pizzaplex after hours in search of any intruders.

this fact really would've been humorous, if it wasn't absolutely terrifying right now. the things you were stalking were now stalking the halls for you.

so, here you were, in the darkened arcade, crouching in a corner, sandwiched between the walls and an unplugged game machine. you clasped your hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing, hearing large footsteps approaching.

don't make noise. don't move. don't even think of it. you watch as it passes, scanning the area for any sort of trouble. the silhouette of the animatronic is far enough to be blurry, but it would definitely notice you if you made any rash decisions. you count in your head mentally, making sure to wait until the coast is clear.

one. two… three… four. five. uh… six?... nothing— …nothing seems to be happening. oh fuck okay wait it turned around— go time! you thought to yourself. impatience was a vice. you’d come to realize that soon.

you slowly get up, elbows and knees awkwardly knocking against the wall and arcade machine noisily as you stand.

that's when you see a large figure slowly turn back around— no doubt, due to your loud attempt at getting out of your stupid hiding spot. your eyes widen in horror, trying to figure out which one it was, and if it had really seen you.

the large animatronic gator, you soon recognized, in fact did see you! it was rapidly heading your way after all.

squeezing out your hiding spot, you book it, making sure to try and get away as far as you possibly can— but it's no use.

fazbear entertainment made these things fast as fuck.

you find yourself backed into a wall, being stared down by an animatronic gator who looks like he's restraining himself from ripping you to shreds on the spot. you back into the wall, trembling.

his eyes scan you— and there's sudden recognition. unfortunately, it doesn't seem like a good thing, considering how he just seems to become more agitated by your presence.

he snarls, bearing his teeth at you. the razor sharp quality of the metal in his mouth make you wonder why this animatronic is allowed to be in an entertainment place for kids.

"you've got a lot of nerve, runt."

you stare like a deer in headlights. you didn’t run. you didn't move. your panic completely freezes you over, brain too busy thinking of a way to get out of this, to leave this place alive.

a claw lifts you up by the collar of your shirt, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

"shit— no, no, no, please ‘m sorry—" your voice is shaking as you desperately search for the words to explain yourself. or at least get out of the situation you’re in. you thrash in his grasp to no avail.

it's all beginning to feel very humiliating. you wasted all this time for nothing. you weren't any detective. just someone with too much time. now, you'd probably die as a random, faceless, nobody who spent too much time at an entertainment center that catered to children's birthday parties.

at least you thought this cause of death was somewhat funny. despite how pathetic it was.

still, everything in your head was urging you to stay alive. even for a few minutes difference.

and suddenly, fight or flight weren't the only options you had anymore. a third one, scintillating and enticing, had graced your thoughts like an angel descending from the heavens.

lying.

"i just— i know it's weird and i shouldn't have trespassed, but i needed to talk to you after hours—" you ramble, your efforts feeling more futile as he lifts you closer, as if to eat you alive. you steel yourself.

"i just need to ask you about bonnie."

the gator goes unnaturally still at your words.

and then it ends here because nothing else was written. where was this gonna go? guess we'll never know. i don't remember where this was going either (。_。)

[iwritelmao]

The Maximoffs

summary: Wanda begins her studies on research, history, and literature, while in true Maximoff fashion, bending the rules a bit. Additionally, her classic shut-in behavior must end... With Peter's help, of course.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5 Coming Soon)

Wanda sat in the library, hunched over a book, exactly how she’d been about six months prior in Queens NY, in the library of Fordham University. Only this one was much smaller, even in its non-relative impressive size. Wanda liked that though. There were no whispered conversations at the circulation desk, no study groups being a bit too loud in a far corner. It seemed in this school, you were either dead silent, or you weren’t the type of person to be in a library.

Of course, there were exceptions. Like when Scott barged in to call Jean out on importan X-Men business. Something about national security being in danger. Or when Hank and Raven flirted over engineering volumes. Or when the professor came to check on Wanda after her third hour of isolation.

“I see you’ve abandoned War and Peace.” He noted, though he didn’t seem upset.

Wanda looked up sheepishly from the book she was reading. “You have a first edition Wuthering Heights.”

“Yes, I believe I also have Jane Eyre lying around somewhere.” Charles Xavier smiled at the girl’s astonishment. “A great something or other of mine was a Brontë fan.”

“Wow…” Her voice was barely at a whisper.

“Do you like to read?”

“Kind of? I think most of the appeal is seeing where the books have been. Looking for signs of whoever read them before; names inside covers, library logs, notes in margins.”Wanda said enthusiastically, though still keeping her voice down. “It’s like you can look at someone else’s life, their reality, through the window of another reality entirely… that’s a special thing for those of us who can’t read minds.”

Charles nodded. “I can imagine.” He said. “Though what I can’t guess at… is why you dropped out of university.”

Wanda looked up from the book. “It’s a long story.”

“Wanda you’re a wonderful student, filled with more academic curiosity than I can begin to muster out of Scott, or Jean, or even Kurt.”

She tensed up. “I really just don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Would you rather talk to your father?”

She clenched her jaw then took a deep breath. “No. And he obviously wants nothing to do with me or Peter.”

“You can’t really believe that.”

“Professor, he knows. And I’m willing to bet he’s known for a while.”

Charles Xavier sat up just a bit straighter. “No, that’s… surely he would’ve said something.”

“Yeah, your guess at ‘what the fuck’ is as good as mine.” Wanda said softly. “Don’t believe me? Read his mind, or something.”

“I’m not going to- no, I believe you,” Charles said. “Whatever he knows or doesn’t know, Erik wants a family more than anything. There must be something keeping him from speaking out… there must be.”

Wanda got back to her room to find Peter sitting cross-legged on her bed, flipping through one of her books. He looked up briefly before turning his attention back to the book, silver hair shielding his eyes. "You wrote all over this thing."

"That thing is a history textbook, so yeah, I annotated it," Wanda said, dropping her bag at the foot of her bed and sitting next to her brother.

"On Bohemian Culture..." Peter read from the cover, then moved to the sticker on one of the bottom corners. "Rented copy... Weren't you supposed to give this back to Fordham?"

Wanda shrugged. "I wanted a souvenir. And it's actually really interesting."

"God, you're boring," Peter tossed the book aside. Wanda used her powers to catch it in mid-air then set it on her desk. "Make any friends yet?"

The girl looked confused. "Why?"

"You're kidding," Peter remarked with raised eyebrows. Wanda shrugged. "Okay, fine. I'm heading out on the town with Hank and Raven tonight, you should come."

"The teachers?"

"Unless you, a vaguely 20-something-year-old, wanna go hang out with the gaggle of eighteen-year-olds," Peter suggested sarcastically, referring to Jean, Jubilee, and Scott. (seriously what the fuck is the aging system in these movies? I'm choosing to believe that the Maximoff twins are both 23 cause I feel like it)

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Fair. But Hank and Raven are... well, I don't know. They're something. I feel like they'd just be babysitting us all night." She said. "Plus, what nightlife is there in Westchester, New York?"

Peter stood up. "Would you stop making excuses to exile yourself?"

She looked at him for a long time, trying to find more reasons to say no, stay in, and read. But she kept drawing up blanks. Her mind kept going back to that one question. Where exactly was one supposed to find good nightlife in Westchester?

Raven threw her head back laughing and Hank watched adoringly. The older man smiled, then took another swig from the bottle of wine he'd brought (apparently, beer didn't agree with his stomach). Raven and Peter shared a six-pack, while Wanda sat and watched with a lukewarm, unfinished hard cider in her hands. She wouldn't drink anything that wasn't sweet or fruity.

They sat around a bonfire in the woods. It had previously been populated by the K-12 students during the homecoming season, but now all that was left was long since scorched grass, and empty bottles littering the clearing.

It was nice, Wanda decided, to be so free with a small group of people. Hank had been hanging from the trees earlier. Raven, shifting from blue, to blonde, and back as it suited her comfort. Peter darted back to the Mansion more than once for more ice to put in the cooler. Wanda had refrained from using her powers much, maybe because she wasn't drunk enough. Maybe because she was too intoxicated to do so safely. After all, dangerous things could happen if one played with chaos magic, the very threads of reality, so carelessly.

"Wanda!" Raven called out. "Your turn."

"Oh, uh..." Wanda paused, considering the question they'd all gone around the fire answering. "Nowhere."

Hank tilted his head. "What do you mean, 'nowhere'?"

The young woman shifted in her seat. "I mean, I've never..."

Peter spit out his beer. "What?" He stared with wide eyes. "What about that one guy? What's his name? He took you to prom, and after, you went to his place and..."

"Watched Never Ending Story on VHS."

Raven set her drink down. "Let me get this straight... You're a twenty-three-year-old virgin?"

Wanda shrugged. "I guess. I mean I've never really felt that way about another person. Sure, I've wanted to date people before... maybe even kiss them, but anything past that..." She looked up from her hands to see the rest of the group staring. "Sorry, I know it's-"

"Natural," Raven said. "Whatever you feel, or don't feel, it's for a reason. It's okay."

Wanda looked at her with a smile. For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire, until Peter took a worryingly long sip of beer and said. "My first kiss was a guy on the track team at the high school I went to."

All eyes went to Peter. His twin sister's eyes widened as her head snapped in his direction. "Not Oliver..."

"Yes, Oliver."

"I thought you hated Oliver."

"Oh, I did. Hated him all the way to third base."

[v3nusxsky]

hi! I love your writing so much! If you're still taking requests could you please write platonic Lady Lesso with student reader who is struggling with insomnia and maybe one day they just fall asleep during Lesso's classes?

Hi darling Anon, I’m glad you enjoy my writing that fills me with so much joy. I gave this my best shot for you. I did some research into insomnia which showed it effects people differently. So for reader they struggle to sleep and wake up any sleep they achieve feels like it never happened. I hope that’s okay!

Anything you need

*Authors note~ I'm loving the prompts coming in for lesso. Requests are open I also write for Larissa Weems ;)) Platonic seems to be a massive hit with you guys and I will continue to try and improve on those read on darlings*

Trigger warnings~ insomnia? Past trauma? Self harm?

Prompt~ see the ask :)

Even a school as magical as The School For Good And Evil had exams. Now obviously the schools taught in different classes and different teaching methods, so obviously the exams were completely different too. And unfortunately for you, Never exams were stereotypically know for being exhausting and extremely demanding mentally emotionally and physically. The difficulty of the exams are said to be unmatched by nothing else. Of course the Evers exams weren't easy, but they certainly weren't as bad the the Never exams. After all one of the classes the Evers were taught was to be beautiful. I mean come on, really? What would the exam be on? How to smile correctly? Or how to sit like a pretty princess? You didn't know, nor did you care if you were honest. You were more stressed about what lay ahead of you.

You knew you had to ace these exams, you couldn't afford to fail. After all that would mean dealing with the Dean of Evil and that was most certainly not on your to do list. That's why you spent every waking moment in classes, training for the physical aspects or head in a book trying to cram every last bit of knowledge in. And sleep? That seemed to evade you as of late. Drifting off into the dream land had never been harder for you, then when you slept it was anything but peaceful and you'd always wake up more exhausted than before. It seemed endless. A miserable cycle you couldn't escape. That's why it's unsurprising to you that after a few days of this cycle your mood becomes irritable and quite frankly down right cold. No wonder why people had given up approaching you.

Classes were becoming a struggle for you, your exhausted brain struggling to retain any more information, in a desperate need of some rest. You knew that of course, but what could you do when it seemed physically impossible to get the rest? You had no choice but to keep going. The fear of not preforming well enough in these exams grew by the hour. Every hour was an hour closer to the dreaded exams. And with how exhausted you were, you doubted you would even be able to stand up by the day of the exams. That is why you were now in your dorm, trying to force your brain to shut off and allow you into a restful slumber. It was still early enough that your dorm was empty besides yourself, you were hoping that would allow you to feel safe enough to sleep. And after a battle it did seem to work. Your body finally succumbed to your exhaustion. But would it be a restful sleep or would you still be plagued by hellish dreams?

Unfortunately for you it was the latter. You immediately realised you would be trapped in your own mind again tonight. Your brain concocting some of the most barbaric methods you could be punished for failing these god damn exams. In each scenario your mind made up, it was the disappointment soaking Lady Lesso's every word that got you. She expected more from you. You'd let her down. A never shouldn't ever let the Dean down. What would she do with you now? Tears sprang in your eyes as she continued her rant. The words cutting deeper than any knife or blade you could've found. No this was a different hurt. Something more raw.  It was here that you saw the phrase "sticks and stones will break my bones but little words will never hurt me" was absolute bullshit. Words do hurt. And that look in her eyes right now? Well that hurt most of all. All you wanted to do was do well yet this slumber was showing you what you feared the most. Failing.

Your body threw its self up in a startled attempt to grab some air into your burning lungs. Your tears staining your cheeks flowing like rivers. You were clearly in throws of panic and you knew you had to calm down. But you can't here, not with all these people. So you did what seems best in your panicked state. You threw yourself into your curses and death traps book hoping to retain any extra information you possibly could. Sleep would clearly be off the card for you once more tonight. Occasionally your body would pull you back into a slumber but your mind pushing you straight back out from it. Exhaustion seemed to downplay exactly what you were experiencing now.

All throughout your morning classes you were struggling to pay attention and stay alert. You managed but it was a very close call. You could feel your eyes starting to flutter shut before you forced them open. You couldn't afford to sleep through any class time. Time was of the essence when it came to passing these god damn exams. After that all the stress would just melt away. Until then you were stuck in this cycle. Lunch came and once you had quickly ate enough to be satisfied you once again had your head buried deep in your book. You had Lady Lesso next for curses and death traps. A lesson today was being taught how to defend yourself with your unique talents. Physically this was not something you excel at. It requires a great deal of power, stability and stamina. All of which you felt you didn't have at the moment.

In the classroom you settled quickly still reading your book until the tone that was only Lesso began to float around the room. Instantly you were informed practical first theory for the second half and you couldn't help but almost groan out loud. Your sparring went well but then again you were gaining Hort so that could explain why. You were glad to be back at your desk after exerting all that extra energy a sit down was definitely needed.

Only a sit down became a slumber on your desk. Your body exhausted and shut itself down into a quick nap. Your desk being at the back of the room you were sure you could get away with it. But unfortunately for you Lady Lesso spotted you almost instantly. At first she let the waves of shock roll through her. You were brave enough to fall asleep in her lesson? Either you had a death wish or you were stupid. And honestly Lesso knew it was not the latter. Once you'd had about fifth teen minutes of sleep, Lesso stalked towards your desk slamming her cane onto the hard wood. You instantly shot up in fear, apologies spilling from your lips. You were most definitely going to be punished now.

And that you were. Lady Lesso informed you that you had detention with her. Sighing in frustration you attempted to hide the panic you felt. You attempted to focus for your theory portion of the class, but your brain was whirling with all sorts of barbaric punishments that could possibly be in your near future. You were quick to flee from the classroom and rush to the food hall. Once again you struggled to handle a lot of food. You continued to taking in the words on the pages until you were grabbed by two of Lady Lesso's guards. Instantly they began to drag you away. You seemed to attract everyone's gaze as you were dragged out. Yet you didn't struggle or scream, just allowed them to pull you to your destination.

And then you were alone. Tied down to a singular chair on a small podium. The room could only be described as gloomy. Doom room. It suddenly all made sense. You called out for someone, anyone but there was no reply. Which is why you felt safe enough to once again accidentally drift off. It was a unnatural and rather uncomfortable position but you still managed to sleep.

Unknown to you, Lesso was waiting in the shadows watching you closely. She couldn't believe you'd actually managed to fall asleep once more. No one had ever fell asleep like this. Most sat stature still terrified of what was coming. But not you. It was a rather intriguing reaction, not one she was expecting to see at all. Then she began to to piece together the odd actions you'd been displaying recently while her gaze ran over your exhausted form. It all made too much sense. And quite frankly she was frustrated with herself for noticing sooner. You were running yourself into the ground that was painfully obvious now. Deciding that the chair was not a suitable resting place she decided to approach you. The sounds of her cane hitting the floor is what startled you this time.

"You, you, you, you" she hummed out her words dancing off the walls. You followed her movements with your eyes waiting for the harsh words or actions directed at you. What you were not expecting was for her to come and undo the restraints keeping you in place. Despite your new freedom you still didn't move, not wanting to anger the fiery tempered women. You gasped out in shock as the Dean took you by the hand leading you away from the room and towards her office. Only once you were sat by her fire did you start to relax.

"Darling? Are you not sleeping well?" She cooed out hoping to encourage you to open up to her. You sighed and nodded. She was quick to respond with a simple "why?" In which you finally broke down. The exhaustion, stress and fear all becoming too much for you, all you could do is cry and curl up into yourself. You didn't understand why but you were soon gathered into the arms of your Dean and rocked in such a gentle manner it was very unlike her. A hand began to trail your spine with feather light touches until they find purchase in your hair scratching gently on your scalp. It was those actions along with a flurry of reassurance that you would do absolutely fine in your exams. There was no need to put all this pressure and stress on yourself. She reassured you that you wouldn't be punished at all, after all she was evil not heartless. And with that you allowed the older women to rock you and soothe you into a much needed sleep. Unsure if you'd stay asleep you were placed on the sofa with a blanket draped over you so Lesso could be here should you wake.

Word count ~ 1855

[faithfromanewperspective]

Okay so I'm about to be real annoying about autism and biology(specifically genetics) real quick-

So first off, just because Ty has autism doesn't necessarily mean that Livvy does. Yes they are twins but they are fraternal twins, ie two eggs and two sperm, which means they only share about 50% of their DNA like regular siblings. Because that's what they are canonically, regular siblings who just so happened to both be conceived in a roughly 2 week window of each other and born at the same time.

Same with Mark and Helen. Only they share about 25% of their DNA with the other Blackthorn siblings.

Now autism is genetic, this is scientifically proven to be true, and as of 2023 1 out of 100 children has autism. Those chances increase if a sibling or a parent has autism because they share genes, and if one person has the gene then it's likely to assume that someone else in the family does as well.

Take my family as an example: my grandfather is autistic, so was his brother, and his sister's daughters(identical twins) were both autistic(because they share 100% DNA so if one is autistic likely the other is too), and so were their kids. So even though my great aunt is NOT autistic, both her brothers are, which meant she carried the gene for it, and it passed down to her kids and grandkids. Now none of my grandfather's kids got the gene, but all of us grandkids did. Because even though our moms weren't autistic, they carried the gene.

Now, there's not too much proven scientific evidence for how autism works genetically other than it is passed down and can even skip a generation or two. But because of how society is, especially how afab people are raised in society, there could genuinely be a significant amount of people who just haven't realized that they are autistic, not to mention the over a million people who aren't able to get a diagnosis. So please take what I've said above with a grain of salt.

NOW onto my personal headcanons with the Blackthorns-

I truly believe that Lucie Herondale is autistic and I will die on this hill. Which means that the gene could carry all the way down the Blackthorn line, all the way to present day. And since we know almost nothing about Andrew and Eleanor, we don't know if either one of them had the traits or if they just carried the gene.

Let's start with the oldest(s) and work our way down, shall we:

Mark: the nature audhd, he loves everything plants earth related and spend almost too much times researching flowers and berries that can be grown in California. He much prefers a date to the botanical gardens rather than to a movie theater(too loud) or a library(too quiet). But he loves concerts(jumping up and down bass boosted music).

Helen: the coffee autistic, she loves everything in the world of coffee, and if she wasn't so debilitated by her enhanced hearing making her uneasy out in public she would open her own coffee shop just so she could make coffees all day everyday. Aline gifts her different coffee scented candles for anniversaries, birthdays, and holidays.

Julian: the art autistic, he loves the feeling of paint on his fingers, and has spent an hour rubbing a new and soft brush over his palms and face(much to Emma's amusement). His go-to stimming behavior is sketching something either on scrap paper or with his fingers on the table or on his thigh. He loves drawing over his arms and hands with pen, and he also loves drawing all over his families' hands and arms as well.

(Ty is canon, so I'll skip him)

Livvy: the theater audhd kid, she loves reading Shakespeare and obscure off-Broadway plays. Once a week she puts on a one woman show for her siblings(mostly Dru and Tavvy) entertainment. She collects playbills, cds, records, merch, and autographs from shows she sees(she goes with Jocelyn or Tessa at least once a week) and covers her room with them.

Dru: the thriller audhd, she loves everything that gives her a fright and makes her adrenaline and blood pressure skyrocket. Her favorite "dates" are amusement parks with Thaís and Jaime, she makes them go on every terrifying ride. She, Livvy, and Emma have movie nights where they binge vintage horror movies and play indie horror games. She went bungee jumping for her 18th birthday.

Tavvy: the music autistic, he loves everything in the music realm: instruments, songs on the radio, Broadway musicals, and Julian humming while he cooks. He learns to play over 16 different instruments and uses each one to stim depending on what environment he's in(if he's at Cirenworth then it's violin or piano, but if he's at the NYC Institute then it's drums or guitar, his favorite is playing the pan flute on the LA Institute rooftop with Mark and Kieran).

I also hc that Livvy is trans that her and Ty ARE actually identical but apparently it's weird to say that😒

Sorry if this doesn't make any sense I just woke up from a nap😅-

dude. this is such a detailed ask. shaking screaming silently in excitement that i get to answer this!! all of this detail for me!! this is such a fascination of mine! anyway ANYWAY SO

I love your hc's about the blackthorns especially tavvy, idk why i see him as a musician as well but it just FITS. and hey, they are in LA right?? he def spends his teens sneaking out to see live music and he def gets SUPER into like a handful of artists and spends hours just playing around with their songs, remixing them or whatever (do i do this? am i talking from experience? do i have a sideblog dedicated to it?) and dru is absolutely that kind of adrenaline junkie. so am i! i say she gets really into lead climbing (rock climbing, but the rope is below you instead of above and when you fall it's TERRIFYING) and it helps her get really comfortable with her body esp when she goes with mundanes and downworlders and shadowhunters all mixed up. and i love theatre livvy, i really do, but her canon thing is computers and maths isn't it? maybe she's both. i can see that, different sides of her personality: she's into STEM a lot as a kid but realises she also likes to act when she's a bit older. you're dead right with julian, tbh what he was going through in the tda era makes it hard for me to see his neurodivergence clearly but yeah i can see it, and he's a cassandra clare male protagonist after all, he's gonna remind me of a bunch of people i know irl who are--slowly realising their neurodivergence, shall i say. mark and helen are dead right too. i see it. never did they come across as neurotypical to me.

and i do know, genetics of fraternal twins--if you're referring to the 'twin thing' or whatever i said i was meaning the bond between them and how they communicate so naturally! which is in part due to their proximity being together since the womb, but also because they are naturally so similar and also complimentary and actually, the fact that they both 'adopt' kit into their group is just another neurodivergents unite moment. like, it just works. so naturally.

and i 100% agree with you that yeah, sure maybe they're not ALL autistic in the family but with underdiagnosis and stuff and genetics it does make sense. Also irl i do think that 1% is a MASSIVE understatement (idk what the actual number could be, but the way i go out in public and in community with people i've known for years even when we're not brought together by things in common, and i just get the vibe of people, i'm pretty sure a lot more than 1% are autistic). now, with lucie. i never was quite sure with her, she's very much a could-never-have-been-neurotypical-herondale but the more I think about it the more it makes sense. it's really interesting to see her and james interact as siblings bc they're SO different but there's this common thread of likely being autistic, in fact a specific genre of autistic that clearly runs in their family (and i could say the same of anna and christopher, but that's for another post). anyway. just for fun. I reckon we can trace it back up both sides of their family to Linette Owens on the Herondale side and to Aloysius Starkweather on Tessa's side. and cassie invented genetics again.

but seriously, i fondly summarise tlh as 'bunch of neurodivergents adopt biracial traveller who doesn't fit in anywhere'. like SO MUCH of the cast is autistic coded, trust cassie to do that, there's also a heap of rep of adhd and cptsd and bipolar in the mix and then. there's cordelia

I also have to say I do love your trans livvy hc!! the more i think about it the more i'm like, oh, that could make sense. in the way she presents her femininity (which trans women don't have to!! I know!) and imagine her bonding with diana over it! anyway that's all i have to say. slightly differently coloured features to ty--that's just a technicality right? no, this could definitely work.

[slexenskee]

hello!! i don’t know if you remember but i sent you an ask months ago about the best place to travel/has good food, and i’m happy to announce that i took the leap and my application for study abroad has been accepted! i am very nervous but your posts about traveling inspired me. do you have any tips for going to a foreign country?

Oh congrats that's awesome!!!

Ahh well tbh without knowing where you're going most of my travel tips will be a bit generic, and also, my trips are definitely never as long as a study abroad would be so the stuff I do for those might not apply either.

That being said, research if the country you're staying in will have your medication/skincare/beauty products etc., and stock up if they don't. You can easily buy things like new clothes and food, but if you have specific products you like they can be hard to come by! Medication especially, there is nothing worse than being sick in a foreign country where you can't read the language and don't know the names of any pharmacies. Also some countries won't let you take certain medication in, even prescribed - for ex, Japan doesn't let anyone take in ADHD meds. Not even with a prescription and a letter of medical necessity.

Know where/how to get to your country's embassy in the country you'll be in. This is mainly if you're not staying in the capital where the embassies normally are, and especially useful if you're going to be in the country for a while. Be prepared to just go directly if you run into any issues, because reaching out via phone or email is basically useless. They are usually quite helpful though. I had to reverse-course from Krabi and fly back to Bangkok to get an emergency passport in the middle of one of my trips - I thought it would be a stressful disaster, but I had it sorted out within a few hours. I couldn't find ANY information on what to do online, and they weren't answering their phones, so I just walked up and they let me cut the line as a citizen and then walked me through all the forms and stuff and had an emergency passport for me by lunch.

Depending on what kind of phone you have, you can download Airlo, which is a live saver for phone plans. It's data only, but it's a super simple to use and download e-sim where you can even get regional e-sims that will work in over 30+ countries. It's so helpful if you plan on traveling around.

And idk how old you are or where you're from, but having a credit card and debit account with access to online banking services is imperative. I've been able to travel to multiple countries without even using cash or a debit card and just using my credit card alone, but for a long stay that would be impossible. An online bank that you can transfer money/deposit money via taking a picture of a cheque on your phone is extremely convenient. Also having someone back home who has access to your accounts and can access them on your behalf is helpful. Depending on where you're going, you're probably also going to always need a lot of cash on hand. Europe is mostly card readers with tap to pay, but I've noticed SE Asia has a lot of 'cash only, or scan a qr-code and directly transfer to the merchant's bank account' merchants which is great if you live there but very inconvenient if you're a traveler who obviously doesn't have a bank account in the country. Japan is literally still COINS only in some places.

For transportation, look up what the taxi apps of choice are and make an account with them. Idk it's usually either Uber or Grab but sometimes I'll see a wildcard.

If the place you're going to has an entirely different written language, the Google Translate app is actually pretty darn spot on and the camera mode is very helpful. I've used it to translate my doujins before with difficult kanji 😂

That's all I can think of off the top of my head haha. Hope it helps!! And have fun!!

[huckleberrykai]

Imagine being Soobin’s first love and him being yours :((

Meeting each other in high school though beomgyu, dating the whole senior year 🩵😔🩵😔🩵😔🩵 just being all lovey dovey

But then parting ways due to college; you moving to another country and not keeping in touch–except for beomgyu.

Beomgyu who arranges a meeting after all of you graduate and you move back in and soobin wants to murder him, he’s so embarrassed.

Despite everything, though, he has never stopped loving you and neither have you!

Soobin, who had a few more drinks than he can take it, mumbling if you’re taken and if you have ever thought about him on those past 4 years and Soobin, who texts you next morning apologizing for his behavior but gets so blushy and excited when you tell him you’re willing to give it a try once again <3

warnings: mentions of alcohol

HI ANONNN u r so big-brained for this i love first love soob <33

i feel like he'd be so so shy at first, just rly wanting to be your friend n researching stuff you like just so he had something to talk to u about. i don't think he even Realises he likes you until beomgyu is like.. "yeah it's obvious u like her bro. ur officially the last to know ."

and so he probs convinces you to hang out a bunch during the summer before your senior year and asks u to be his girlfriend in some cute cafe, giving you your latte that he made the barista draw a foam heart on :')

he'd be crushed when you broke up for college, he'd try dating other people but nothing was ever serious,, and beomgyu scolded him for comparing everyone to you. "she's funny, but not as funny as Y/N... her hair isn't as soft as hers either."

he was Sick of soobin pining over his lost love like a lovesick puppy.

so!! if you want something done right do it yourself!!

he sets up a reunion party, all of your friends from highschool or rather just the people that he liked / could bear to talk to for a few hours while you fixed your relationship

soobin was already a little tipsy when you arrived, and the poor guy nearly fell to his damn knees the second he saw you. he was perfectly content just.. watching you all night.

until beomgyu called him a creep and pushed him forwards, bumping directly into your shoulder. "soobin!" your eyes were wide, he thought you were even prettier than you were when you dated.

"you're beautiful."

"huh?"

"nothing."

long story short, you ended up in beomgyu's room somehow with a tall lanky man wrapped around you, begging for forgiveness when he didn't do anything wrong to begin with 😭

he rambles So Much.

"do you have a boyfriend? god i hope not. you're so pretty. please take me back Y/Nie.. i never got over you" :(

eventually, he fell asleep, and you had to leave. you weren't going to just say yes since you'd much rather hear it all from him sober, but you weren't sure when you'd see him again. before you left you unlocked his phone with his sleeping face ID and put your number in, putting his own into yours.

soobin was mortified.

his memory was hazy, but he knew he did something when he saw the text on his phone.

Y/N: sorry i unlocked your phone while you slept, i just wanted to be able to contact you

Y/N: we should talk

Y/N: you still look cute when you're rambling :)

and so he called you. a few tears and confessions were shared from both sides, and he learned that you never stopped thinking about him either. he looked like a kid on Christmas with the grin on his face when you told him you'd like to try again - and within 5 minutes he'd already planned your perfect date <3

and your wedding but you didn't need to know that

absolutely shoves his face in the pillow and flails his limbs about in excitement once you end the phone call, squeals and all >.<

takes you back to the same cafe and gets you a heart latte, just like before, asking for another chance at being your boyfriend <3

and when you officially got back together beomgyu Definitely took credit for it

[soaps-mohawk]

Another incredible chapter, friend! I know you said you weren't satisfied with it, but i also know we are always our own worst critics. We see the details that seem like flaws, holes in the pattern that never line up exactly how you meant them to. It's part of being an artist. And make no mistake, your writing is art. Happy with it or not, your writing holds a place in my heart now. I know you get a bun h of messages from people telling you how much they enjoy it, too. You have breathed life into this story and taken me from casual "oh that's those guys from an fps, right?" to literally watching silent playthroughs of all 3 cod mw. I saw a gifset and was able to guess who was who based on their posture and your portrayal of their characterization.

I know it's hard not to let yourself get in your own head about wanting to get a work in progress just right, i do it all the time, but i don't think you have anything to worry about. You've got this, and i am so excited to see everything that comes next.

Omg this is so sweet like...I can't even right now 🥹

I'm so bad about criticizing myself. The pain of being a detail oriented person. Everything has to be just perfect and just right. The way I researched for an hour for stores in the UK that would serve the purpose I need because I know next to nothing about what living in the UK is like. I had someone on Ao3 comment giving suggestions on how to write a Scottish accent and explaining how Scottish people might speak, especially to someone who's not Scottish, etc and it was done so politely and respectfully but now I'm sitting here questioning going back and rewriting all of Soap's dialogue to fix some things.

It's just hard to move past that "everything must be perfect" mindset. I know it's fanfiction and most readers won't even notice if I don't have exactly the distance between two places calculated or some random small town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere mentioned. Most readers aren't going to sit there and look up every fact to make sure it's right. Y'all are here to read an omegaverse fic, I could be pulling stuff out of my ass (which I've done) and most of y'all won't even care or know the difference. You're here to enjoy it not pick it apart like it's a college essay.

Okay I got off the track here, but I appreciate you and your kind words. I forget sometimes that this is just for fun and most people don't care if it's accurate or not. We're all just here to have fun and read about our silly little military babygirls.

[discodeviant]

One More For You

Billy/Steve | Teen | 1.8k words Boxing AU, Nonviolent Fighting

Please take the realism/accuracy here with a grain of salt lol, I did some minor research but mostly wanted to focus on their relationship. Enjoy! <3

Made for @billyhargrovebingo!

Read on AO3

Billy couldn't see. Not really. Not clearly. Lights and people blurred, and he couldn't hear well anymore either as voices muffled like he was underwater and rushing his way deeper. Hands touched him from every direction, unfamiliar palms and fingers wrapping gauze and bandages around his head, his arms, his legs, his torso. Nothing he'd never gone through before; the touching, anyway, but the loss of his other senses was new. Blood fused taste and scent together into copper all down his throat that settled into his stomach, which may have been why he felt so sick.

Or maybe it was the one voice he could hear, asking, pleading, “Billy, are you okay? Can you hear me? Jesus Christ--please, I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so--fuck, I’m so sorry.”

— Before —

Steve was on his phone when he entered the gym, Tommy already waiting with his equipment all set up and ready for his last few hours of training. “Buzz will be here in an hour,” Tommy said, Steve distantly nodding, not really listening, not really caring. He sat on a bench and put his bag down, still nose-deep into articles about Hargrove v. Harrington! Harrington's Retirement Fight With Old Spar! Last Chance Tickets Available Now! He's Never Fighting Again, Folks!--Read Latest Interview Here! To burn them all and spit on the ash they left behind would have been a delight.

Fighting Billy Hargrove was the opportunity of a lifetime for guys like Steve: long-underground athletes who needed the name to get a leg up, but who still didn’t stand a goddamn chance because Hargrove was the best in the country. No one could best him at any game, much less his own when he held all the power in his eyes and his fists. He knocked those underground sewage rats right onto their low-standing pedestals and stood on his fifty feet in the air, and owned it.

But Steve was hardly underground anymore since he’d been in the ring against Hargrove more than once. Three times, to be exact, and each was more painful than the last. Not because Hargrove was better than him, or the years had been cruel, but because his heart broke a little more with each punch.

By then he’d known Hargrove for thirteen years, briefly meeting after their first fight at Steve’s quaint little Chicago apartment, and it was the former's idea. Steve didn't really know why he half-expected Hargrove to propose another fight for fun, but they didn't need to fight to have a good time together. It made the second a little more friendly, though, discussing beforehand that they wouldn't try to knock each other's teeth loose at least ("I want that smile to be intact," Hargrove had said, flustering Steve until the third and beyond).

Since the third, it had been five years since they had a real fight--in the ring with an audience, coaches and wingmen by their sides, ready to throw punches that both knew weren't personal.

But in that five years, something else happened that Steve never thought would happen again after high school: he fell in love. Deeply, wholly, and unfruitfully because Billy Hargrove had places to be and people to meet, and Steve waited tables for fun in between. He was a spectacle for fans who came to his restaurants to brag about meeting the Steve Harrington, how funny and charming he was in person, that one would never suspect he was into such a gruesome sport. And he enjoyed it, meeting people at home, not quite famous enough for paparazzi to follow his every move. He enjoyed the texts and phone calls with Billy before either had a match, small or large as it may have been. He enjoyed seeing Billy again every few months, sinking into a days-long affair that would leave him miserable knowing it would never be any more than that.

In that five years, Steve considered retirement. Mulling it over in his head every night, he daydreamed about leaving his B-list boxing career behind and telling Billy how he really felt. It had been a long time coming, really, since his competitive matches were sparse and minimally promoted by then. He’d always preferred swimming anyway; maybe he could take up coaching. Maybe he could stick to his restaurant gig for a while. He wasn't sure.

Then he told Billy that very same thing, and crystal-blue irises were all he saw. They'd boxed together for all thirteen years. Billy was the one who convinced Steve to start in the first place because he had years pent up behind fists that didn't have any relief, and now Steve wanted to quit.

"One more fight," Billy said.

"What?" It was nearing midnight, and they sat together at a burger joint not far from Steve's apartment. The windows were foggy from a humid rain, patrons entering and shaking their umbrellas out before leaving again.

"Come on, Stevie, for old time's sake." Billy let the other half of his waffle fry drop into the basket again. Looking at him was too hard. His eyes begged without shaping any differently, lips crooked down into a discouraged grin.

"I don't want to fight you, Billy," Steve said, and Billy's face fell into hurt. "I--" He sighed. "Why? I'm not good for your career anymore. That Brenner kid's way better for PR." Looking down, he shrugged, sipped his Coke, ate the rest of Billy's fry. Their shoes touched under the table.

Steve was waiting for the boom. "I don't give a shit about PR, you know that." The fuse behind Billy's every word that just grew and grew until it stopped growing and reached the end, sparked the end of the bomb just barely enough to explode--to win--but Billy's voice was still low. Calm. Sad, if Steve dared to think so. "What, you're gonna fight Byers and fall off the face of the Earth three months later?"

Steve huffed, amused. "So you care about my PR."

"No, I--" The fuse burned on, but it was fizzling out. "I wanna be your last fight, Stevie, not that asshole." A black boot nudged white hi-tops. "Please?" Steve could only stand to look into his eyes for a split second because his heart ached too much for more.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not gonna hurt me. When have you ever hurt me?"

"Breaking your nose doesn't count?" Billy laughed at that. Held Steve's hand right there by the window.

"Steve, look at me," he said, voice soft enough for Steve to know that the fuse was nothing but smoke on a wire. "One more. For me. I promise it'll be the last time."

—

On the fifth of October, Steve wondered why he let everybody talk him into it. Billy, Buzz, Tommy, his agent and manager; his parents, for fuck's sake, and he knew they didn't care that much.

And it was mostly his anger at Billy that fueled every punch he threw, right hooks to the gut and jabs to his cheek. It was thinking "the last time" meant the last time they were together in an expensive hotel room with soft linen sheets and wine, chocolate on each other's lips, nothing but city lights illuminating through sheer curtains. The rosy tint he'd formed around Billy over the years turned redder and redder with every look those blue eyes gave him, eager and challenging like he wanted Steve to hit him. And Maybe he did; Steve couldn't tell. Billy was self-destructive that way.

Meanwhile Billy's punches were swift and light, just enough to look good on camera because the live audience certainly couldn't tell a difference. He was a good actor. Disorient all over his face, languid motions as he pretended to lose his footing a little, standard Hargrove moves to save the winning blow for the end of the match. Steve wondered where it would land. He waited for a black-gloved hook to the jaw or jab at his liver to send him flying back, but it never came.

The fuse, it seemed, had not been reignited.

Billy wanted him to win.

And Steve didn't know how he ended up in the middle of the ring taking his final victory, against Billy Hargrove of all people, who lay on the floor and slipped on his own blood and crawled to the corner, letting his coach pull him down and onto a stretcher. The lights dimmed and went back up. Steve looked all around for him, catching back up with the memory of the last few minutes and hoping, praying, that he didn't seriously hurt Billy.

He ignored everybody who chased after him to the ambulance outside, not caring that he was barefoot and with a towel over his shoulders, bleeding from a split lip that dripped down his chin. "Talk to me, Billy, please--" he begged, but Billy was out like a light.

Hours later, Steve shivered in the hospital. Tommy had brought him some clothes and a hot cup of tea, but he was still so damn cold. Billy was under sedation for a minor surgery on his nose, and Steve just knew he would laugh when he woke up. He would say something stupid and smile and laugh and be just as obnoxious, and Steve wanted him to be.

But, when Billy did wake up, he was dead silent. Peered over at Steve before he had a chance to realize Billy was awake at all, then reached a hand out for him and braced in his panic. Steve wasn't even listening to the words coming out of his own mouth; too many all at once, all apologies and blubbering worry, and Billy shushed him like a mother shushed her wailing baby. Softly, gently, not a spark in sight.

"It's okay, Stevie, I'm okay."

"No you're not."

"Steve, baby." He raised his hand to Steve's cheek and held it there, cold fingertips on burning flesh. "You were fucking incredible out there. One hell of a finale, if you ask me." Steve grinned.

Billy pulled him down for a kiss. Long, slow, gentle like Steve was the most fragile thing in the world, like Billy wasn't the one in a hospital bed with a nose that was numb to the pain of touching Steve's cheek. "I'm so sorry, Billy."

"Stop apologizing." They whispered against each other's lips. "I don't love you less just because you broke my nose again, okay?" Billy laughed.

"You--"

Steve pulled away just enough to meet Billy's hazy eyes. "You heard me," he said, and Steve kissed him again, again and again, salt from his tears just seeping between.

"God, Billy, I love you..."

They would have much to discuss.