#she's 15 weeks old. her head is as big as the rest of her body.

[the-everqueen]

my faculty mentor has written my rec letter for 3/6 job applications and she approved of my teaching and invited me to guest teach ANOTHER class of hers but more importantly...i met (second time) a shar pei puppy named chansky who gnawed on my wrist like it was a bone and she was SO velvety soft and she licked my whole face and let me rub all her wrinkles.

[emmyrosee]

tw// slllllightly suggestive for the point of comedy, rintaro being goofy, children arguing lol

——

Akito, Kaiya, and the terror twins haven’t touched one dish in forty minutes.

There’s a lot of fighting happening in the kitchen, about who’s going to scrub and who’s going to load the dish washer, and from your twins, who’s going to wash their hands first.

Akito, at the ripe age of 15, is having absolutely nothing to do with Kaiya’s scrubbing, complaining it’s not “good enough.” Kaiya reminds him that she does not care.

Rintaro knows you’re tired. Exhausted even, the kids have all been at each other’s throats all week, and he watches your eyes flutter shut to try and block out the arguing, only to open and finish packing the leftovers, trying to be strong and let them figure it out for themselves.

Your shoulders start to shake from anxiety, hands stalling, and Rintaro feels his heart breaking.

He’s got to step in, be a firm dad, even if his kids don’t always take him seriously.

“Alright, enough,” Rintaro growls, making his way over to the four kids in the kitchen. You turn to face him too, a brow quirked in wonder for his new attitude. “Listen to me; your mother threw her back into dinner, I did all your laundry, and now you want to whine about dishes? We all help with chores, tonight is no different. What is the hold up? Why the fighting?”

“Wouldn’t have to if Kaiya knew how to scrub the dish before passing it to me!” Akito hisses.

“Does the dishwasher not do that for me!” She grumbles.

“Sachie pushed me out of the way of the sink!” Sachiko whines.

“She usin’ all the soap!” Sachie complains.

“Okay, that’s it!” Rintaro bites. The room goes quiet. You stop putting away left overs and turn to face him, a smirk slowly growing. His eyes look to yours, and he watches your teeth sink into your lip at his display of authority.

God, how he loves that look on you.

…..an idea pops in his head.

“From now on, you all want to give me attitude and fight with me on chores? I’m flirting with mom in front of you.”

“WHAT?”

There’s a chorus of confusion that breaks out over the kitchen, Akito pulling a face of disgust while Kaiya groans in disbelief. “That’s right,” Rintaro continues. “You want to whine about doing dishes, or cleaning your rooms, or folding your laundry, I’m going to hit on mom!” His head turns to you, a smirk in his features, “hey there, sugar.”

You start to giggle nervously, warmth spreading over your face as your hands come up to hide it, “rinnie!”

“God, you’re so pretty,” he rasps, and in the background, Kaiya wails in agony. “How’s about you and I uh… get to know each other-“

“Oh my god dad, please-“ Akito begs.

“We get it, you’re obsessed with mom,” Kaiya manages behind her hands.

Your five year olds, however, giggle at the displays of affection, watching your body language tense up in embarrassment for Rintaro’s sudden display. It’s something all your kids used to do, growing up watching Rintaro be all over you. As they’ve gotten older, their excitement to watch their parents love on each other has turned into embarrassment, but there’s no doubt in any of the kids’ minds about how in love you two are.

And at the end of the day, that’s all you both want.

Rintaro smirks and rests his hands on your hips, big hands splaying over the bones, “man, you drive me wild, you know that? Makes me wanna give you another baby-“

“NO!” You wail, interrupting whatever he was about to say.

“DAAAAAAAD!”

“WE’RE SORRY!”

“Wait, so where do babies come from?”

“From now on,” Rintaro continues, looking at his four kids over his shoulder (and purposefully ignoring the last question). “You wanna be brats? I hit on the mom. This is not a democracy nor a negotiation. The more you complain, the more mom’s gonna blush.” He looks back at you and smirks, “because holy cow do I love to make mom blush.”

“EUGHHH!”

The only sounds for a moment are giggles from Sachie and Sachiko, everyone holding their breath to see if Rintaro will continue with his affections, or if he’s already thrown in the towel.

“I don’t hear any dishes or hands being washed!”

Immediately, all four kids spring into action, dishes softly clanging while Akito and Kaiya whisper among themselves in embarrassment over what they just witnessed. Sachie and Sachiko take turns pumping the hand soap for each other, making the plastic bottle covered in sticky soap, but at least the fighting has ceased.

Rintaro sighs and puckers his lips out for a kiss, which you offer him excitedly. “Thank you,” you murmur against him.

“Welcome, babygirl,” he says back.

“I HEARD THAT!” Akito wails.

-

HEHEHEHEHEHEHE

[justyouraverage-simp]

call me dad// tony stark

pairing: dad!tony stark x daughter!reader

warnings: mentions of injury, death of a parent, mentions of abortion, time jumps, shitty ending

summary: when tony first met his daughter she wanted nothing to do with him but when she thought she lost him she realises just how much he means to her

REQUEST

Being the child of a single parent is hard. But losing that parent is even harder. But what is even harder is finding out that the person you now have to live with is the one person who couldn’t have cared less about you in the past 15 years of your life. 

This is what happened to Y/N after her mother died. It was hard for her losing her mother but it was even harder when her case worker told her she would be living with her father over her grandparents as they believed they were not suitable to raise a child due to their age and health. Y/N had never met her father, she only knew about him because her mother would tell her stories of how they met and how everything was before his parents died, she would also use him as an example to her daughter on how to not be treated by a man, to show her daughter you can be successful and raise a child. 

//

Tony was stood in the living room at Stark Tower looking at the folder he had been given by Coulson when his phone rang.

“Hello”

“Hi, is this Mr Stark?”

“It is? Can I ask who’s calling”

“Of course, my name is Tia. I’m calling from Child Protective Services, it’s regarding your daughter”

“Umm, I think you have the wrong number. I don’t have a daughter” Hearing the word daughter caught Tony off guard, he doesn’t have a daughter there is no way he could. 

“Well do you know a Miss Stephanie Taylor?” That name. He hadn’t heard that name in over 15 years, of course he thought about her on occasion but not since Pepper. 

“Umm yes, why is she relevant”

“Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this Mr Stark but she passed away a few days ago and she has a daughter”

Tony was shocked to hear she had passed, but why was CPS telling him this. To say he was confused was an understatement. 

“I’m sorry but why are you telling me this I haven’t spoken to Stephanie for over 15 years”

“That’s the thing, she has a 15 year old daughter”

As soon as Tony heard those words he almost fell over, immediately he knew why they were telling him this but none of it made sense how the hell does he have a child…

//

“It’s only me honey” Tony called entering Stephanie’s flat that he had a key too. 

As Tony walked through the flat he was confused, normally as soon as he walks through the door he is being jumped on by his girlfriend but this time there was no sign of her. 

“Honey, where are you”

“I’m in the bathroom” He heard a small voice call out breaking slightly.

As he walked through to the bathroom the sound of sniffles and whimpers became slightly louder.

“Hey, what’s going on? What’s got my girl so upset” Tony said sitting next to Stephanie on the floor, causing her to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Tony, I’m pregnant” Stephanie said to him looking up at him slightly

“Oh, is that what’s got you all worked up, it’s going to be okay I promise”

“But I don’t think I want to keep it, we are too young, you’ve just lost your parents and we just aren’t ready”

“Breathe baby, it’s your body so you do whatever you need to do okay and I’ll be with you no matter what you choose” Tony said pressing a kiss against Stephanie’s forehead.

2 weeks later…

It had been 2 weeks since Stephanie had found out she was pregnant although she hadn’t decided what she was going to do about it. It’s such a big decision for the two of them. There was a part of Stephanie that wanted to keep the baby, she had always wanted a baby but just not right now, well it wasn’t planned to be right now. 

Stephanie walked into the party Tony had decided to throw for no reason but because he wanted a party which was very normal for him. Stephanie was wearing a deep red silk dress with a low back and a v-neck, and as she entered the room she was immediately looking for Tony. She needed to talk to him about their situation and it had to happen now she needed to get it off her chest. 

She turned the corner and saw Tony talking to a blonde women and before Stephanie could say anything he kissed the blonde. Stephanie felt sick, he was cheating.

She quickly left the party and rushed to the bedroom and packed her stuff up. She ripped a piece of paper out of a notebook she found a wrote this note on it:

Tony, 

I saw it all. I hope she makes you really happy, more than I could obviously. I’m leaving, I’m not going to sit back and watch as you convince her you love her more than anything in the world when I know for a fact you can’t love more than one person. Not really. That one person for you is you! 

Goodbye forever, 

Stephanie

//

Tony thought back to the moment he found the letter. He knew he screwed up badly but he also knew Stephanie and he knew she was stubborn and independent and there was no amount of words that could convince her to come back to him so he saved his breath and let her leave without a single word. 

He thought she had the abortion, she seemed so certain about it. If he had known about her he would have made more of an effort, actually been in Y/N’s life but instead she grew up without a dad and honestly it made her closer to her mum and grandparents because they stuck around but it also left her with some internal problems, it was hard for Y/N to trust people in case they would change so quickly just like her dad did and the thought of being alone scared her more than anything.

Tony agreed to take Y/N after the situation was explained by your case worker, it was either go with him or end up in the system and neither him or Pepper wanted that. She had agreed to help Tony raise Y/N and he wanted to be better, he felt lots of guilt already for not being around although he had known about Y/N for approximately 10 minutes but that was long enough. He had always said if he ever became a dad he would be more involved than his own father was but instead he was nowhere to be seen in Y/N’s life, it was almost as if she didn’t have a father at all. 

//

6 months later…

It had been an adjustment for Y/N to have a dad but to have that dad be Tony Stark was a completely different experience. Granted he was trying to be there for Y/N but with the current situation with Loki he wasn’t overly present, leaving Y/N in the trusted hands of Pepper and Happy. 

Both Y/N and Pepper were on the jet on the way to DC when they saw on the news that there was an attack on New York and of course Tony was there. The tension in the jet was felt by everyone, something pulled at Y/N’s chest although she wasn’t sure why as she had no major feelings towards her father he was just her responsible adult, he wasn’t her father, her dad, nothing. Just another man, she hadn’t even called him dad yet. 

She felt her phone vibrate in her lap which pulled her attention away from the TV, when she saw Tony’s name lighting up her screen. 

“Hello” Y/N said, confused as he was supposedly fighting Loki and his army. 

“Hey kid, look I need you to listen to me okay. I don’t know how much time I have left” Tony said.

“Yeah, um okay” Y/N said walking to the end of the jet away from the noise and other people.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you, I always promised myself I would be better than my dad but I ended up being just like him if not worse. If I could go back and try and find your mum before it was too late I would in a heartbeat. I wish I could have been there for all your firsts. These past 6 months have been amazing, you are going to do amazing things I just know it. I love yo…” Tony said as the line began to crack, eventually losing all signal. 

“Tony, Tony…” 

// 

3 hours later…

No one knew what actually happened that day, whether Tony survived the fall or not; they just awaited the teams return at Shield Headquarters. Both Y/N and Pepper were sat waiting in one of the empty offices when a car pulled up outside, without even seeing who pulled up the flashing of cameras from the paparazzi stationed outside the building told the two of them the Avengers were back. 

Both Y/N and Pepper rushed down to the foyer to see if he was there but they couldn’t see him. How had she gone from having a mum, then no mum to having a dad then having no one all in the space of a few hours. A few tears began to fall slowly down her cheek until she heard his voice. 

“Did you miss me?” 

Y/N rushed into Tony’s arms without even a second thought. There was slight confusion on Tony’s face, what had happened for Y/N to go from wanting nothing to do with him to now hugging him and crying in his arms. 

“I love you dad” Y/N said quietly

Tony was gobsmacked. He never once expected to hear those words come out of her mouth but he loved it nonetheless. 

“God, I love you too kid” Tony said holding his daughter close for the first time feeling content for the first time in years.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 6: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (3/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 1726

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 3: ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

Notes: This story was originally posted in 2014

Killian surged forward, lips crashing against hers, body pressing her to the immutable surface of her apartment door, arms binding her to him.

Good thing too.  At the touch of his lips against hers, the sensation of his tongue seeking entrance, the feel of his heart racing beneath her hand trapped between them, Emma sagged and her knees threatened to buckle altogether.

Emma opened for him, moaning his name as his tongue came to tangle with hers.  She rose to her toes, threading her fingers through his hair, seeking to bring him ever closer, they would never be close enough. 

Her apartment complex was normally a busy bustling place, but tonight, at 11:30 on Christmas Eve night, it was as empty as Gold’s black heart.  Just as well.  The way she and Killian were going at it, anyone passing by was liable to get quite the show—and definitely not one suited to children.

With a groan Killian pulled away, but Emma was having none of it.  She wasn’t done kissing him yet; not nearly.  She chased his lips with her own, giving her pirate no quarter.

“Emma,” he moaned, as he gave up all attempts at resistance and met her head on.

They’d just returned from the town Christmas party at Granny’s.  Her mom had really outdone herself with that one.  The food, laughter and eggnog flowed abundantly.  Everyone seemed to have imbibed the Christmas spirit, buoyed, no doubt by the fact that they’d gone a full month without a villain in sight. 

It seemed Killian had enjoyed his first Christmas party.  He’d particularly enjoyed the dirty Santa gift exchange, throwing himself into the spirit of the game with wild abandon.  He’d put his pirate skills to good use, stealing one after another of his neighbors’ gifts.  Emma suspected it was more for the thrill of mayor-sanctioned theft than it was for the actual gifts he’d gained.  She laughingly said as much to him as he gleefully stole a bottle of lavender-scented bath salts from under Ruby’s very nose.

“You’re really going to tell me you want girly bath salts?” she’d teased.

“And why not?” he’d asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes.  “I happen to be well aware that you favor the scent of lavender.  It was my hope that were I to acquire these salts I might persuade you to…um…help me put them to use.”

When all was said and done, Killian had been left with a gift certificate for free dinner at Granny’s for a week.  She….well, she’d made a last minute swap for the bath salts, a fact that made Killian’s eyes light up like a kid let loose in a candy shop.

When the party broke up, Killian walked her back to her apartment door where he was currently kissing her so thoroughly she could barely remember her own name.

After long moments, Killian pulled away and then rested his forehead against hers.  “Best we slow down love,” he said breathlessly.  “Much longer, and we’re bound to start a conflagration that will consume this entire building.”

“Yeah,” she said, equally breathless.  “But what a way to go.”

He laughed and took a step back.  “I suppose it’s time I take my leave.  You’re to be at your parents’ bright and early tomorrow for Christmas morning festivities.”

Emma took hold of the lapels of Killian’s coat and gave him another quick peck.  “You mean we’re to be at my parents’ bright and early.”

He looked suddenly uncertain.  “I don’t wish to impose.  It is after all a family event.”

Emma shook her head, her heart turning over with tenderness for this man.  “When are you going to learn that you are family?  We all want you there, and I, well, I’d really miss you if you bailed on us.  Besides, if you don’t join us for Christmas morning, when am I going to get to give you my gift?”

“You bought me a gift?”  His voice was awestruck.

“Of course!  I have a feeling you’re going to like it too.”

Emma knew how much he enjoyed reading.  His cabin on the Jolly Roger had been practically covered, floor to ceiling with books.  She’d bought him as many of this realm’s pirate tales and stories as she could get her hands on.

“There’s no doubt of that, love,” he said gently.  “I have a gift for you as well, but I have been assured that Christmas is the day for gift giving.  It would be quite bad form to spoil my surprise the night before.”

“All the more reason to join us in the morning.”

His smile turned infinitely tender, and he cupped her cheek.  “I’d love to be there, Swan.  Which is, of course, why I’d best take my leave so that you can get your rest for the big day.”

Emma’s eyes flitted away from his for a moment before focusing back on him.  “Stay with me tonight?  Henry’s staying with Regina, and, well, no one should have to spend Christmas Eve alone.”

Killian dragged in a ragged breath.  “I’d be honored to spend the remainder of Christmas Eve with you.

Emma unlocked her apartment, gave Killian another quick kiss and then waved him in behind her.  “Go ahead and plug in the tree; maybe see about starting a fire.  I’ll make us some cocoa.”

After their conversation in the woods, Killian and Henry had tag teamed her until she’d agreed to just about every Christmas tradition Henry could think of.  The three of them had bought and cut down a Christmas tree, decorated the thing within an inch of its life (Killian’s hook being surprisingly handy in the endeavor), hung all three of their stockings by the chimney with care, and baked and decorated what felt like enough Christmas cookies for the entire town.  When Killian learned of the tradition of sending people Christmas cards, he’d even convinced her to send the damn things out—complete with a photo of the three of them sitting before the fire, steaming mugs of cocoa in hand, the lit tree in the background.

It was cheesy as hell.

She loved it.

She finished preparing their drinks—which for her consisted of boiling water and pouring it over packets of cocoa mix—and then headed for the living room.

“Well, you’ve made good use of your time,” she said with a smile.  The tree was lit, a roaring fire crackled in the hearth, and a smug pirate sat on the rug before it, surrounded by pillows.

“I aim to please darling.” 

She sat beside him, depositing their cocoa on the end table and settling in his waiting arms.

“I do believe you’re forgetting something, love,” he said, mischief in every syllable.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Look and see for yourself.”

Emma sat up and stifled a laugh.  The idiot sat before her holding the largest sprig of mistletoe she’d ever seen.  She leaned forward and kissed him playfully.  “You’re insatiable.”

“Aye,” he said, returning the kiss with exuberance, “but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Without warning, it all crashed over her once again.  She’d nearly lost him.  His heart had nearly been crushed in front of her, and she’d been powerless to stop it.  The memory made her start to shake, and Emma clung to Killian so tightly he’d end up with bruises in the morning.  She buried her face in his neck and breathed him in, her hand slipping beneath his shirt to rest over his heart.  She needed this; she needed the confirmation that he was still there, that his heart was still where it belonged.

“Emma, love,” he said, rubbing her back, “is something the matter?”

Emma forced herself to sit up and look him in the eye.  If nearly losing him had taught her anything, it was that every day with this man was a gift—a gift that could be snatched from her at any moment.  The fact that he might have died not knowing, not truly knowing how she felt about him was like a slap to the face.   She needed to remedy that.  Immediately.  Emma was terrified to say the words, but it was time; it was far past time.

“Killian, I…I just need you to know something.”

“Very well, Swan,” he said hesitantly, “you do know there is nothing you cannot tell me, do you not?”

“Yeah,” She took a deep breath and then plunged in.  “It’s just that…well, I don’t know how to do this but just come out and say it:  I love you.  I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.  It scares the hell out of me, but, well, I just needed you to know.  Whatever happens, no matter how many evil villains try to tear us apart, I needed you to know.  I need you to…”

He leaned forward and captured her lips, effectively cutting off what was threatening to turn into babbling.  This kiss was different, soft, gentle, unhurried.  Emma reached up between them and caressed his face with gentle strokes.  This was right.  This man was it for her.  If he’d died up there in the clock tower she didn’t know how she’d ever have survived it.”

“I love you too,” he whispered as he finally pulled away.  “Until the end of time, I’ll love you. With every breath I take, every beat of my heart, I love you. There’ll never be another for me but you.”

She grinned against his chest.  “Better not be.”

“No other lass stands the ghost of a chance against you.  I swear to be unfailingly true to you until I take my last breath and long, long after.”

“I know,” she said tremulously.  “And you can expect the same from me.”

He gathered her back into her arms and they sat in silence for some time.  When he spoke again, the teasing note was back in his voice.  “So, Swan, how do you propose we while away the rest of this Christmas Eve?”

She sat back and gave him a grin.  “Well, I was thinking we could resume that make out session we had going on outside…and then we could, kind of, see where that takes us.”

“That, Swan, is the best idea you’ve had all year.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Rachel Daly x Reader

Part Two: Dashed Hopes

AN: Shoutout to @yourwosogirly and @ac3may for helping me through the writers block this chapter gave me, ly 🧡

Turning up at camp and shuffling towards the building with your bags you couldn’t help but recognise the familiar blonde figure on the steps out front with her new beau. Too far across the car park to turn back without looking suspicious you had to keep walking, hoping to anything godly that neither would notice you. “Oh my god! (Y/n) is that you?” screeched the familiar voice of your ex best friend. Fuck. Time to put that Drama GCSE to good use! “Oh my god! Becky? I haven’t seen you in years!” you squealed in fake excitement as you pulled her in for a hug. “Wait.. you know each other?” Rachel seemed surprised yet extremely worried about the altercation that was happening in front of her. “Yeah we used to be besties, what happened to that?” Becky twirled her hair around her fingers as she pretended to forget why you fell out years ago. “You shagged our best mate’s boyfriend” you said bluntly, the fake smile wiped away and resting bitch face firmly back in her place. “And now you’re shagging my ex! Funny how things change aih.. unlike your clothes” tugging at the shirt hanging off of the brunette’s slim body. “Rach, you took my favourite shirt? I’ve been looking for this for weeks!” You knew exactly what you were doing but why the hell is she wearing your shirt? You wanted to rip it off her along with the extensions glued to her head. Unfortunately you have a reputation to uphold now and had to deal with things amicably, no matter how much you wanna hit her. “Wait, this is.. yours?!” Becky exclaimed disgusted at how she was wearing an ex’s shirt that she thought was her girlfriend’s. “Yeah.. Rach used to love me in this, didn’t you babe?” smiling sweetly and stroking Rachel’s arm, determined to wind them up as much as possible before you have to act professional until the end of August. Rachel visibly gulped as she scratched the back of her head which was her tell for when she was feeling awkward. “It’s sooo nice to see you both again, byeee!” Lies. Big fat lies. The extremely heavy sarcastic sweetness that rolled out of your mouth was undeniably two faced. You thought you’d be more hurt seeing them together but you kept your horoscope this morning at the forefront of your mind - you’ll be tested today but remember you’re better than them - couldn’t have been more true if it tried!

Strutting into the welcome meeting feeling like all the cards were in your hand, you were pleased to see some of your old friends again. There was a few you played with for England when you were younger and made your way over to sit with Georgia and Keira. Your overnight plane from America had only landed a few days ago and the jet lag was starting to catch up on you now - hoping Sarina’s talk would be quick so you could get some sleep. Your dreams of a few hours shut eye were quickly shattered, Sarina clearly hadn’t got the memo and bunked you up with none other than your ex. For fuck sake Sarina! Asking to have a quiet word with her after everyone left she said that if you found someone to swap with you could but was stern when she added “if you can’t work with her then we’re going to have to discuss your position on the team”. Brilliant. Get along with your run away bride or get kicked from the team, what an ultimatum. You’d been fighting to be recognised from over the pond for years, Rachel was gonna get a call up no matter where in the world she was but not you. You’d climbed the England ranks since 15 but knew moving to America would put your national career on the line. You were convinced you’d have made the senior team a lot sooner if you had stayed in the WSL.

Dragging your bags up to your room you stood with your hand on the door knob for some time before gathering up the courage to enter. You didn’t need to be nervous as the bags dumped on the bed told you Rachel had gone elsewhere. The luggage reminded you of how she would never unpack from travelling and it drove you insane. Busy sorting out your things you didn’t hear your ex enter until you came out of the bathroom. “Hey” she mumbled awkwardly as you both clocked each other. Moving your headphones to sit around your neck so you didn’t seem rude, “hi” you replied in a way that was unsure about how this was going to work. “I took this bed as I know you don’t like being next to the door but I can move if that’s changed” she said picking at her fingernails. You replied that you’re fine where you are and started listening to your music again while continuing to unpack. That was until your headphones died and threw them onto the bed disgruntled at how you’ve now got to listen to your ex breath the same air as you. Spending what felt like forever in silence until Rachel made the first move “I’ll get your shirt back to you” her voice somewhat perky like she was trying. There’s nothing you would want more, the way it was slightly faded and shrunk a little in the wash made it show your belly button. It was your old uni top and you loved how it reminded you of simpler times but your voice didn’t say that. “No it’s okay, it looks good on her” you shrugged, it wasn’t a lie per se but it wasn’t the whole truth - it deffo looks better on you and Rachel seemed to think so as well. “It looked good on you too” she said quietly looking over at you. Well you didn’t expect to hear that today! “Yeah it did, thats why it was my favourite” you hammered back with the same stiff eye contact she was giving you. “That’s why I kept it” she shrugged, “what to give to your next fiancée?”. Oops, that was meant to come out jokey but it deffo came out defensive and argumentative. “No, she wasn’t meant to find it” throwing her legs over the side of her bed and putting her face in her hands. “She tidied the house while I was out one day and found it, I couldn’t tell her it was yours. It still smelt of you and when I was sad I’d hold it. She washed it and put it on, I was so mad but I didn’t really have the right to be angry with her.” Rachel stood up from the bed “(y/n) I hate what I did to you, I just missed England so bad after the Euros, I needed to be with my family” she tried to win you over, to be honest the first part of her speech was quite cute but the last part hit a nerve. “I was your family too Rach, we were getting married! Do you know how humiliating that was for me? Calling all the suppliers, all of the guests, telling my family that my future wife had ran away? Just left me in a strange country you convinced me to move to!” your arms were flailing and your voice was raising. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to turn out this way!” she pleaded but you had seen red. “Then what the fuck did you mean to happen? You didn’t talk to me, you just left! You kissed me and said you loved me, waited til I fell asleep then fucked off on the first plane out of Texas!” you yelled. “I’m not proud of my actions” she said approaching you from across the floor “(y/n) let me explain, please sit down” grabbing your hand and trying to guide you towards the bed but you were determined not to get pulled into her sob story and snatched your arm away. “Your time for explaining was the minute you thought about leaving, now get the fuck out my face!” Pushing past her to reach the door, maybe you should have taken the bed closer to it for a quicker escape.

Bursting into Millie and Mary’s room where some of the others had gathered, “eurgh!” you bellowed making your entrance known “someone swap with me! I can’t stay in that room with her!” pleading with your teammates. “(Y/n), you’re gonna have to get along with her for the sake of the team” Mary tried to reason with you. “I could do that a lot better by not bunking with her” begging the girls to swap rooms with you but they were all settled and didn’t want to move their stuff again. “Millie please, you’re her best friend why wouldn’t you wanna bunk with her? I’ll do your laundry until we leave” trying to bribe your ex’s best friend. “I think it’ll be good for you two to talk things over” she said taking you in for a hug. You sighed feeling defeated, “what’s there to talk about? She set up a transfer without telling me and waited until she could disappear in the night! I’d rather sleep on the pitch!” throwing yourself back onto her bed in frustration. “That’s not what she said went down” Millie said confused. “Well that’s exactly what happened!” you projected around the room. “She said you broke up with her after she moved?” Mary said quizzically. How did she think the truth wouldn’t come out? Why did she tell everyone I broke up with her? “That’s absolute bollocks, you believed that? You know I loved her more than anything! I would have come home too, I wouldn’t have moved there in the first place if it wasn’t for her!” curling yourself up into a ball as the tears started to run again. “Okay, I’ll swap alright but you still need to try and get on with her.” Millie turned empathetic and stroked your back giving you comfort.

Knocking on the door Rachel was surprised to see Millie standing there with her bags. “Why did you tell us (y/n) broke up with you?” pushing past her to get inside the room. Rachel couldn’t believe you’d got someone to swap with you and that the truth was out, rolling her eyes acting like you were the one being childish. “Can you blame her for swapping?” Millie’s arms folded, sticking up for injustice came easy to her. “It was just simpler, I didn’t think she’d be here” Rachel was pacing the floor trying desperately to figure out a way to wriggle out of the mess she had made. “You didn’t think she’d get called up so you thought you’d never have to see her again? She’s an amazing player Rach, you thought you could leave your old life behind and never get found out! I’m your best friend, why did you lie to me?” Millie’s voice was raised, she was protective of the first time campers especially ones that had been wronged by someone she holds so close. “Because I knew you’d hate me!” Rachel’s eyes started to fill up with tears as she felt interrogated. “I wouldn’t hate you Rach, I’m disappointed though! You just left in the middle of the night? She was gonna be your wife!” Millie was getting more and more irate with every word that was coming out of her best friend’s mouth. “I know! I’m sorry!” Rachel yelled across the room at her. “And who the fuck is this new bird? You do know Sarina told her she’s got to get on with you to stay on the team right? You’ve put her whole career in jeopardy and she’s a bigger person than I would be cause I would have knocked you out by now!”

“Look, I don’t need both of you yelling at me okay. I know what I did was shitty but I have my reasons, no one will let me explain!” she pleaded to have her side heard. As much as Millie didn’t want to give Rachel the time of day, she was inquisitive of why she did what she did. The defender threw herself onto the bed and patted the mattress beside her for Rach to scooch in. No matter how much she was mad at her right now, she knew she must have had a good reason.

Part Three

[resmyx]

My friends are reading my writing and so far all of their comments fall into two categories:

• #1: Write a prologue, introduction or new first chapter because everything all at once is overwhelming. Where are we? What's going on? Is there a map?

• #2: It's like meeting an old friend or old coworker, familiar and odd at the same time. I feel a nostalgia for something that's never been.

The new people I've hardly met, the first category of commenter... I can write something for them. There's a flashback thing in chapter 20ish of my planning which could be presented as a prologue instead of a regular chapter. It's calm. It's slow paced. It's simple. It shows us a normal day for Smekia in her home from a level-headed observant point-of-view. I'm going to write it sooner or later, but do I write it now and place it 20ish chapters early as a prologue?

The second category of commenter is who I'm writing for. I'm writing for myself and any of my pals who miss me when I'm not around. Like me, Smekia has really strong feelings and stresses out over little things often. When she has time to rest, she'll rest a minimum of time before finding some problem to care about. This calm gentle prologue is her life, but it definitely isn't her perspective. Starting anywhere except her most important problem feels like I'm misleading my readers into a fake sense of normalcy.

Plus... There's spoilers a.k.a. foreshadowing going on in this "prologue." Personally, my opinion is that it's spoilers. Maybe instead, it's good writing and foreshadowing or whatever. I dunno which is objectively correct. Details under the cut.

Without getting into details and spoilers/foreshadowing... Act 2 of Smekia's self-discovery arc centers on a peculiar idea. This idea is hinted at a few times before chapter 11 when it suddenly becomes a big deal. Whether the idea happens for real or not is a point of suspense and mystery for 10-15ish chapters. Now, if you read this prologue as a canon and real, you can figure how act 2 ends pretty early. I mean mid-act 1, at the start of chapter 5, 15-20 chapters beforehand! If the connection isn't obvious then at c, then just wait for chapter 11 when there's an argument specifically and explicitly about it.

If you prefer to think of it as foreshadowing and/or you don't care about spoilers... It's good for character building. It's really good for showing the main character's depth. In particular we meet our main character's long-distance lovers in-person. All those letters to those lovers sprinkled through the story have a concrete tangible destination. Sadly, Chapter 1 and 2 will feel like whiplash, because we get thrown into our main character's subjective experience, with all her issues, right after enjoying a levelheaded clear prologue.

Getting into the details and spoilers/foreshadowing...

Smekia used to have a memory-recall spell that replayed her experiences in someone else's dreams. For Hisiga, Smekia's lover, it's her favourite spell. Smekia travels the world often while Hisiga's disabled, stuck in a wheelchair, stuck in an office and behind a desk of political paperwork. This spell is a big deal for the two of them because Hisiga can enjoy having a mobile body and seeing the world without leaving the comfort and safety of home.

Smekia loses this spell in Muxu, right as this story begins. Anima comes and goes, fickle like the weather.

This prologue is before Muxu. It features Smekia waking up in Hisiga's bed, leaving while Hisiga slept with sweet dreams about Smekia's latest trip, visiting her other lover Kir, warning Kir of Hisiga's bad health and bad habits, and finally leaving for Muxu not to return for weeks.

This is all from Ráên's perspective. Ráên experiences Smekia's memory in a calm gentle way. Unlike Smekia, Ráên notices details and describes things pretty clearly. Yes Ráên can feel Smekia's panic and fears about leaving, but it's not overwhelming like it would be from Smekia's perspective. Hit chapter 5, Ráên's first PoV chapter, and the storytelling style will be obvious and familiar. Given the description of the spell from the start of the prologue, it's not hard to piece together that the memory-recall spell was cast on Ráên to create the prologue.

If chapter 5's perspective switch, the talk about lending and borrowing spells in chapter 6, the brief tangent with Zorig about spell lending in chapter 7, Ráên's offhand comments about dreams in 9, and Hazel's warning in chapter 10... If all that isn't enough hints, then Chapter 11 makes it clear that Ráên has Smekia's memory recall spell now.

So Smekia and Ráên are tethered. Ráên knows but Smekia doesn't. Ráên doesn't like it and tries to hide the truth from Smekia. Smekia almost borrows the spell from Ráên and almost puts Ráên to sleep with it. They argue. Smekia leaves without knowing if borrowing the spell from Ráên is even possible. Smekia doesn't find out for 10-15 chapters because Smekia and Ráên are bitter enemies for a while.

Eventually they're friendly and trust each other enough to try it, and it works. As a result, Ráên learns about Smekia's life and lovers, and Smekia learns just how deep and intimate her "tether" connection to Ráên goes. Act 2 ends with this prologue chapter and act 3 of this arc begins when Smekia and Ráên are ready to explore what being tethered means for the both of them.

@thylocalbard

[cluelessweeb]

Dog died on friday – a vent

I was taking care of him the whole morning. He suddenly declined really sharply on Thursday and hadnt eaten for a few days by then.

I moved him and his bed into my room so I could keep an eye on him. He never so much as changed position. The only indication that he was awake was that he was blinking. He vomited a couple times even though he had nothing in his stomach. That paired with him shitting blood because he hadnt been taking his pancreatitis meds made it smell like rot before he even died.

I didn't feel comfortable touching him and I feel bad. So boney, i dont think he had any strength left. All he did move was his head. That and the stink. The weather was cooler than the rest of the week so I opened my windows. I hope the fresh air and the sound of cicadas was nice for him.

Then around 1:00 he had trouble breathing. I tried changing his position to make it easier and it helped a little but not by much. 1:16 he stopped breathing. I was on my bed, not by his side. The sounds of his labored breaths were gone. I looked up and hesitated. I don't know why. I must have been processing what it means. I got up and patted him trying to see if he'd react, I put my ear to his ribs to listen for a heartbeat or shallow breaths. I wasn't sure what I heard.

Then a bit later he snapped, like he was biting something. It happened a few times. He wasn't breathing still, I was confused. Is this a thing corpses do? Was he fighting death? Final attempts to gasp for air? It didn't seem like the last one.

It was relieving, honestly. He's been losing himself the past year. But in that final moment, I saw his feisty, stubborn personality. I mentioned it to mom during our car ride, but she didn't say anything. She has a habit of not listening. I guess I'll keep that moment to myself.

1:17 I tried to call mom but she didn't answer the phone. I texted her the news, he was still snapping but less often. Honestly the snapping went on for 15 seconds maximum.

After that I wasn't sure what to do. I couldn't leave him laying there. I brought my cat lupin in to see him since he liked him, he'd groom pippin in the past even though pippin didn't like cats. Then I looked for a box to put him in. The first was too small. The second I felt wrong about putting him in. He fit in it diagonally but... it was cramped. But I didn't feel like looking more. I felt bad closing the flaps but I couldn't stand the smell.

I don't know, mom never answered my text or called me back. She just came home around 1:40 saying she gave up on waiting for the patient that she was supposed to see. It felt awkward seeing her hold his body and cry. I understood why she reacted like that, but the whole not responding to me thing sat in my mind. She acted surprised that he was gone even though I told her already.

Then she made me call places for cremation to ask about prices. I'm so tired of having to do everything.

We brought him in the box to the vet since they could send him off for cremation. Mom took a while looking at the packages. An elderly couple came in with a very whiney black cat. He didn't like being there either. Then an old lady came in with her big dog who stopped to sniff our box on tbe way to the scale. When mom finally paid for the service a vet tech came to take him. She peeked in the box and I could tell she hated the smell too. She pinched her nose a little but tried not to make any expression. She was wearing tie die blue and white crocs. I couldn't help but feel self conscious. Mom had called earlier about euthanasia so they knew he was alive earlier in the day, but the smell. I felt horrible. I didn't realize he was layinf in his own blood shit until after he died when I picked him up. Even then I couldn't have put him in the shower if I noticed before.

Even before he died I'd been feeling more fragile than usual and I'm already a fragile person. I haven't bothered talking to that discord server much since then. I cried when I thought my friend fell asleep before we could watch link click together. I've been too dependent on that person. They impact my mood so heavily it's unhealthy but I'm too ashamed to say that directly in therapy. I've been considering putting some distance between us. Hell I was put in my current bad mood because they haven't responded to my messages for four hours. Some people have lives, Cathy. Sometimes they have other friends too. Get over it.

That paragraph deviated whoopsy daisy. But I'm done. I originally meant to write down my feelings for my therapist but this might be too long. I'll give her the tldr ig.

[random-introverted-blog]

Introvert, Introvert, Introvert. Where are you?

Well, let's see. Do you have a day or two to kill?

First and foremost: none of the stories are dead. I'm back to actively writing HS-HQ. Flickers, I plan on fully involving my bestie on in all parts of the process. She is wonderful and working on her own story To Defy The God's and all you Shadowheart girlies should absolutely check it out. So damn good 😳😩.

I'm also building a new Shadowheart x OC story, which includes a Durge x Astarion. It's called Estranged and I can't wait to share more. This one has been my baby for the last 3-4 months and I'm stupid proud of how fleshed out the details and lore are for the OC, including their backstory and how it interacts with the main game.

That said; the last few months haven't been easy.

At the end of April, I was mentally preparing for June. June is the busiest month at my job. No days off, 11-13 hour days, super stressful workload, the whole nine yards and then some. I had about 2k words for Chapter 11 of HS-HQ but I wasn't really enjoying it, and I got stuck. And that combined with the impending stress, the blog took a backseat.

I can not stress to you how much I hate June at my work. Anything would be preferable to working that many hours. Overtime pay in my state is a legal requirement, so it's not like that's even a big deal. They have to pay me for it. But even with the pay, I miss so many family events, opportunities, life in general in June.

Trigger warning: self harm/Dark humor

And the lead up to June this year I was saying I would rather play in traffic, stab my hand with my box cutter, break my foot, jump off the roof, anything except work another June (this was my third June).

My (other) bestie even offered to run over my foot with her car and I considered it, honest to God.

Where am I going with this?

Ahem.

End of Trigger Warning

Ladies, gentleman, and gentlefolk.

'Twas the night before Monday, June 10th, about 11pm. I had just gotten a new A/C for my room. My old one had given up the ghost many moons ago and was just window dressing at this point. The new one I had was a portable, not a window one. But I needed one short notice for the heat wave we were suffering and, as I mentioned, June is a busy month. What sleep I could get, I didn't want to spend just trying to sleep in my hot, wooden panel bedroom.

How this situation came to be, I won't explain, but I wound up carrying my old A/C unit out of my bedroom and down the stairs to get it outside and in the front yard. The goal was to get it out of the house and deal with it later.

I'm a 5 foot, 3 inches lady and I'm not a twig. The A/C, although more bulky than heavy, was still manageable for me to lift. I couldn't see my feet, and that was the only significant problem.

And it was the only one that mattered 😌.

I'm on the last 4 of 15-ish steps and my foot decides it too, would like to give up the ghost.

Did I think I was closer to the bottom than I was? Probably. Did I think "fuck, I'm dead, this is how I die, this thing is going to crush me"? Also probably.

My mom was behind me. And apparently my head hit the dry wall too, but I don't remember that. My body slid down the rest of the stairs. I land at the bottom and my foot is sore. A/C landed on my stomach, but honestly, only a cut or two was visible on my legs. My foot was swollen something ugly and bruised, but eh, whatever.

Until I tried to stand up.

That's right, ladies, gentleman and gentlefolk.

Following an ER visit at 1 am and a doctor's appointment, my foot/ankle was undeniably shot. I couldn't put weight on it if my life depended on it.

I still can't fully walk right/normal on my foot, but I think that's because I've spent about 2-3 weeks wearing a boot and my foot isn't at full strength.

With that said, I am back; I am alive, and I will be sharing what I've been working on relatively soon. Such as the new story, Estranged...

And a little something called

Ahem.

His Star - His Queen Chapter 11 teaser?

This chapter is going to be shorter, just to get back in the saddle and reestablish myself. The first major blow to my writing schedule was writer's block. I knew what I wanted, but not how to get there, and it killed me. So Chapter 11 has been gutted more than once.

Normally, every two chapters we switch POVs, but for some reason, I got stuck on Astarion's. And in all honesty, I think you guys/gals/pals are more interested in seeing what's happened to yourselves [Tav] than the shenanigans Astarion and Jester have gotten themselves into. So we'll check in on how you guys are handling the maestros composition of his masterpiece...

P.s: I'll try and respond to my inbox, comments and DM's later tomorrow night, I've seen and heard all of you, including on AO3.

[renee-writer]

The Changeling Chapter 15

AO3

He stands, swaying William who is going through a hard time, cutting his first tooth.  She needs to tell him.

 

“Jamie?” He looks to her with a frown, sensing from her voice that whatever she has to say will be difficult.

 

“Aye Claire?” Even the use of her name bares this out.

 

“There is one more thing you need to know about me,” she looks down, twisting her wedding ring, “I don’t know that I can give you a son or daughter. Frank and I,” She looks up, “ we tried for years. I never …”

 

She waits on his reaction. He lays the now asleep baby in his cradle and walks up, placing his arms around her.

 

“Do you think it matters? I have heard the pain that Jenny goes through bearing her babies. I can bear a lot of pain on my own but, I don’t believe I could bear yours. Dinna fash, Sassanach. You have already gifted me with a son. William would have died without your healers touch. He is more than enough.”

 

She shivers as her body relaxes. “Thank you Jamie. I would have, should have, told you before we wed but, I never expected to fall in love with you.”

 

He lifts her face up gently kissing her. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you but, I loved you from the moment you wept in my arms at Leoch. We are mates for life, my Sassanach, no matter what.”

 

A week later, he is out hunting to stock up Lallybroch ahead of the winter. A noise grabs his attention. Dismounting from Donas, he whispers a soft command to him before moving, rifle up, towards the sound. The rustling sounds like a bird. He expects a turkey. What he finds…

 

“Lad, why are you sneaking about on my property?” It comes out harsher than he intended. He had almost shot the lad.

 

Young, no older than six, he believes, the lad crouches behind the bush. His dark curls wild on his head and his big blue eyes, huge. They grow bigger at the big man’s challenge.

 

“I will move, my Lord. Please don’t shoot me!” He starts to rapidly back away. Jamie grabs hold of his arm.

 

“I wasn’t going to shoot you. Forgive my harshness but you startled me. Come lad, what is your name?”

 

“Fergus.” He feels his heart beating fast under his hand and something else; the lad is rail thin.

 

“Fergus what?”

 

He shakes his head and his wild curls go everywhere. “Just Fergus, my Lord. Never had a father to give me a last one. My ma,” His eyes go down, “She died and there was no one. So I came a hunting for food and help. Couldn’t bury her myself.”

 

He feels his heart breaking for the wee lad. When his own mam passed, there was his dad, Jenny, and Murtagh. This poor lad…

 

“My name is Jamie Fraser. Come Fergus. My wife and sister will see that you have a hot meal then myself and my lads will see your ma seen too.”

 

“Thank you Laird Fraser.”

 

They ride back to Lallybroch where he fills Claire and Jenny in on Fergus ‘ situation. They take over. He is fed, bathed, and Claire gives him a quick exam.

 

“What will you do with him?” Murtagh asks as they wait on Claire to finish.

 

“He has no father. His ma is dead. He shall have to stay with us.”

 

“As a farm hand?”

 

Jamie shakes his head. Thinking about what Claire told him that same morning, the irony wasn’t lost on him. “No, as a son.”

 

Murtagh cracks a rare smile and pats Jamie on the back. “Good. That is good.”

 

Fergus directs them to his old cabin. It is deep in the woods. Claire then takes him back to Lallybroch. There is no reason to subject him to seeing his dead ma again.

 

They return a few hours later. Fergus lays asleep beside her.

 

“Poor lad needs the rest. His ma has been dead at least two weeks.”

 

“Good Lord!”

 

“Aye. He needs a home. We have room. What would you think about making him our son?”

 

She smiles, touching the lad’ s now soft curls.

 

“I would say of course. I had already thought the same.”

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The Last of Us - Broken together 15

Master list

I'm so sorry this story is going to get super sad now. I will be writing it heading toward part two of the games.

Interaction is key, let me know what you think.

The ranch house was big, you spent time trying to decorate it as best you could. Scrubbing the rugs until they looked somewhat new. At the windows you hung threadbare curtains at each window and you'd pasted old posters to the walls and made it as honey as you could. The front door opened and Joel grunted through with his brother carrying a long three seater sofa with them. He groaned and stretched his back once it was in place. Ellie trotted in behind them holding a pile of throw blankets.

"Maria said you wanted these." She announced, dropping them on the sofa. You chuckled, causing Joel to look at you. His eyes had grown soft as he looked at you, it seemed strange that he frowned. The lungs in your chest tightened and you gasped for air, your knees buckling below you.

Joel's arms wrapped around you before you hit the floor and he whipped you into the sofa. He knelt beside you.

"Tommy, go get the doctor!" He growled.

"No, no." You touched his arm, though there was no grip in it. "I'm okay. I just need to rest for a while." You insisted. The annoyance and concern were written all over his face. Tommy was hanging around the doorframe.

"well you can take a few days off." Joel said, it wasn't a suggestion and you knew it. "Ellie get some water." The teen ran to the kitchen.

"seriously Joel I'm fine, probably just a little dehydrated." You say trying to sit up." He pushed you back down.

"either way you're staying right here sweetheart. We'll do the rest for today." He pulled one of the throw blankets over and Ellie put the water on the coffee table. Reluctantly you did as you were told. It didn't take long for you to start enjoying it. Watching the two Miller men carry heavy furniture into the room. The last being a large wooden framed bed and mattress. The frame looked new, so you were sure Joel and Tommy must have made it. After Ellie had gone to bed Joel came to sit beside you.

"How you fellin' sweetheart?" He asked.

"I'm good, Ellie filled my glass every time I finished one." You tried to laugh.

"well what would you like to do?" He grinned at you.

"honestly, I just go to bed." You say.

"okay." Joel stood pulling you and throwing you over his shoulder in a fireman's hold. He climbed the stars to your new bedroom. He had put sheets on the mattress and they smelled wonderful. The pillows were filled with feathers and felt soft on your head. Joel laid you down and after taking off his boots and clothing he slid in beside you. His body was warm against you lulling you into sleepiness.

"Hey, if you still feel bad tomorrow will you go see the Doc" Joel asked. You nod and close your eyes.

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

"I'm fine Joel." You shout from the kitchen.

"you collapsed again! You aren't fine! You need to see the doctor!" He shouted back, stomping toward you from the living room. Ellie sat on the stairs, her knees tucked up to her chest.

"Joel."

"No, you're not well and I can't just let you be sick."

"I'm not sick!" You sigh exhausted from the conversation. It was two weeks since your first collapse and though you'd tried to hide it your body was becoming weak.

"Please?" The words coming from him hit something inside you. Closing your eyes you turned to him.

"okay, I'll go but he'll just tell me to relax and we can't do that, the sheep-"

"the sheep will be fine. Me and Ellie can deal with the. If he tells you to rest you're going to the bed and you're stayin' in it. You understand me?" He demanded.

"Joel Miller, who gave you the right to care about me?" You grinned.

"It wasn't a choice I had a hand in." He finally smiled at you. "I'll go see when he has time to see ya." He kissed the side of your head, grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "Come on Ellie, time for school." He called over his shoulder. The teen followed him out and you sunk into the dining table chair.

Your head pounded and you felt nauseous, you tried to hide it from Joel as best you could yet somehow he always knew. In your mind you knew you needed to see the doctor but the longer you put it off the longer you could pretend. Some people in this apocalypse forget the sickness and diseases from the old world were still hanging around. In all honesty you were scared of what might come.

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

Tests, blood tests and urine tests, any tests the doctor could think of with no results. You were getting no better. Joel hated it, hated seeing you get so tired, hated how thin your frame had become in the last few weeks.

"y/n, the Soc came by, he um-" you hold up a hand to him as you come up the steps to the porch.

"Joel, I don't want to know. Whatever it is, I'll take the drugs, I'll do what he says but I don't want to know. I just want to live my life. Be with you." You held back the tears. Joel's eyes glazed with his own.

"Sure. If that's what you want." He slipped the bottle of pills into his pocket. "You hungry?" He asked.

"yeah, I could eat." You half smile and take his hand.

Ellie was out at a friend's house so it was just the two of you at the table. You could tell.Jiel had something to tell you. His eyes would flick to you every few seconds, he would breath in to begin then stop himself.

"What is it?" You ask eventually.

"hm-mm," he cleared his throat, "Tommy needs me to go on a run. Just to the university, shouldn't be more than a couple of days." He searched your eyes.

"Sure. I'll be okay here, Ellie?" You ask.

"Staying here."

"I don't need looking after." You grumble.

"Yeah you do, and so does she. I need you both here safe so I can concentrate." He forced a laugh.

"when are you going?" You ask, feeling suddenly like you were about to lose him.

"in the morning." He replies. Not long after and once Ellie was home and in bed, he walks with you hand in hand to the bedroom. You climb in sleep takes you instantly.

Joel waited a beat then crossed the room to Ellie, she was under her covers reading comic books.

"hey kiddo." He said sitting on the edge of her bed. Ellie peeked out of her covers and looked up at him.

"How long are you going?" She asked quietly.

"just a few days. Here." He passed the bottle of pills to her. "She needs these three times a day, with water."

Ellie nods turning the bottle in her hand.

"Joel? Is y/n going to get better?" She asked, in a whisper. Joel reached out and pulled her into his arms.

"I hope so baby girl, I hope so." They stayed there in that embrace for a few minutes before Ellie pulled back sniffing.

"You be careful out there okay?"

[kudosmyhero]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (vol. 1) #11: True Stories

Read Date: May 28, 2023 Cover Date: June 1987 ● Writer: Kevin Eastman ◦ Peter Laird ● Pencils: Kevin Eastman ◦ Peter Laird ● Inks: Kevin Eastman ◦ Peter Laird ● Letters: Steve Lavigne ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● I haven’t seen the first TMNT movie in ages, but reading this issue brings little memories back—such as April’s journaling ● omg, I’d forgotten the insult-war, too!

● 👏👏👏👏

Synopsis: The issue opens with April having nightmares about being attacked by ninja monsters who look similar to the Turtles and the Shredder. April wakes up screaming and then heads off to write in her diary. The diary becomes the framework for this issue.

Jan. 15, 1987 Yes, it's almost three A.M. again… My Night Mare alarm went off Big time tonight. It's been over two weeks now, with no relief… I was hoping to shake them before this… I think—The last time I closed my eyes and actually slept (and I believe exhaustion had a hand in that) was on the trip here… Even then my awakening was a shock… April recalls Casey startling her awake during the trip from New York City, wanting her to see downtown Northampton, Massachusetts. She is underwhelmed by the sight.

Considering my state of mind, my reaction was a few notches below "I couldn't care less." I guess I should've looked around a little; I hear that Northampton's nice… at least it might have afforded some kind of comfort for my next sight… From the road, Casey's late grandmother's house looked like a classic old New England farm house—big old barn, family-sized house, sheds, trees and rolling hills; you know, postcard material. That was from the road… Casey is full of nostalgia seeing the Jones Farm, but April is introduced to a dilapidated old building with broken windows and a front door falling off its hinges. April wants to start a warm fire and to get the still-injured Leo into the house. But she is fatigued, and falls asleep on a chair inside.

Jan. 25, 1987 Winter remains with us… snowed two days straight… Clear today. Leonardo's still pretty out of it. The battle tore him up terribly in both body and mind. Physically he has healed incredibly well, but mentally… I'm afraid has a lot of catching up. He's always put himself in front of the rest of the guys; taking charge, bearing the extra weight playing the Big Brother… When someone like that feels they've failed they fall hard! He's recently developed an intense obsession with the surrounding forests and spends all of his time there… I hope he finds what he's looking for and comes out of this depression soon… We all need him back. Leonardo, dressed in an improvised winter hunter's garb and armed with a yumi, stalks a stag through the forest without much success. The stag ambushes him, knocking him down. Leo pulls out of a knife and charges the stag head-on, but the powerful creature instead grabs the turtle with his antlers and throws him over and behind. Leo sits feeling defeated as the stag runs off.

I guess I could never know for sure how he feels inside. But I do know what losing your home—and everything that you own—feels like… Those things that you felt gave you a sense of being and strength in this world… Belongings that touched memory chords of loved ones. Father… I know he's hurting. Feb. 10, 1987 Everything is so strange… I feel like I've never looked at myself or the guys before; we're all so different now I try to identify the people I used to know with those that surround me now… and it's hard. Don isn't doing too badly, although he does work obsessively at the huge amount of repairs that need to be done here. The place has been vacant since Casey's Grandmother Left four years ago, it was pretty run down then. Besides a million little things, Don's rebuilt the windmill to pump water, devised a water wheel that creates enough current for lights and the fridge, and also installed a wood stove for better heating, all around. His most recent undertaking will—if it works—satisfy a craving we've all had lately… …Hot running water! Feb. 15, 1987 Success! Showertime! Everybody's going nuts! Feb. 17, 1987 Feeling strangely depressed lately… I guess I expected Don to rest a bit after the last hard-won victory… No such luck. I heard him rummaging around in the attic early this morning… who knows what he's working on now. Feb. 17, 1987 Don's Writing Too! He must have found an old typewriter in the attic yesterday. I awoke to the tapping of busy keys around seven A.M. and he's been at it ever since! I wonder what he's writing about… is it a journal, like mine? I'd love to know… Donatello is shown in the attic room with the typewriter…and a trash can filled to overflowing with crumpled up pieces of paper.

Feb. 26, 1987 Michaelangelo worries me the most Mike, who could find a joke in just about any situation, doesn't laugh much anymore. Except for some half hearted goofing around with Casey and Raph, he's been almost painfully solitary lately it's so unlike him. But then all of us seem to have a need to be alone these days. Has what's happened made us unable to be close? I don't know… Mike's chosen a back section of the barn for his sanction… cleared a lot of junk out and created a little work-out space. The other day I happened in on one of his sessions. He was already on edge. Michelangelo is shown repeatedly kicking a punching bag until it breaks completely off its chain. He bashes and destroys a workbench with his arms. Unsatisfied, his takes his rage to the barn wall, ripping a hole out of the wood. He rests his arms on the new hole and groans.

We all feel so much pain and confusion— Each of us keeping his personal torment bottled up inside… Each seeking relief in his own way. The cure hangs plainly, clearly in front of our faces, but who will be the first to reach out? We Need Each Other! March 2, 1987 Raphael scares me. The rest of the guys I can feel for, worry for… but not Raph. Raph runs Hot and Cold… very unbalanced, unpredictable. I keep my distance. Lately I've noticed he doesn't sleep much. He's always always the first up and the last to bed. I think I've heard him Leaving the house late at night, too. I wonder what he's doing… standing guard? Late at night out in the cold on top of the barn, standing guard is exactly what Raphael is doing. He judges the front of the farm clear, then flips several times across the barn rooftop to the back, and judges the back of the farm also clear.

March 10, 1987 I've known some odd characters in my time, living in Brooklyn most of my life, But the likes of Casey Bernid Jones is beyond compare. I believe that in Casey's mind there's a petulant, mischievious ten year old waging constant war with a somewhat mature, Bright young man… unfortunately the ten year old wins far too often. Casey spends all of his time with Raphael, fighting, or "doin' projects, doin' projects!" as they say— usually more damage. What next? In the barn, Casey is trying to repair the engine of an old pickup truck while Raphael sits behind the steering wheel. As they work, they carry on a debate.

Casey: Not even close—The Professor and Maryann, without a doubt, married! Raphael: No frick'n way! Gilligan was her main man, everyone knows that! Casey: Bug off! He was a geek. Raphael: You're a geek! Casey: Get a life, no mind! Raphael: Spasmo! Casey: Puke brain. Raphael: Clayhead. Casey: Duck fart. O.K. Turn it over. Raphael: Yawn… Yup. Gack face. Casey: This piece 'a junk will never start!

Raphael: Sounds good! Casey: O.K., O.K., ease off, this thing's ancient! Check the hand brake so it won't roll… …Ease off already! Raphael: Don't worry! {yawn} Casey: Ut-oh… Raphael: Oop! Casey & Raphael: It's in gear!!

The truck speeds toward the barn doors, bashing them open.

Casey: Ease down, dude! Foot off gas pedal!! Raphael: The throttle's stuck!!—Wide open! Casey: Use the brake—the brake!!

Raph struggles in vain to steer the vehicle into control.

Raphael: No control!—

The truck scrapes the side of the farmhouse's front porch.

Raphael: —it's the snow—no traction!

The truck rams into and destroys the windmill just before it crashes head-on into a hillside. Raph gets out safely, but the truck is a wreck.

Casey: I hated that Jeep anyway. Raphael: Have they seen the windmill yet? Casey: Couldn't miss it. Raphael: Mad? Casey: Saw 'em carring gun and a noose! Yuk, yuk! Raphael: Eat worms and die!

One day later in the month, April is out walking on the ice of a frozen lake. But the ice cracks under her weight, plunging her into the freezing water. Leo is hunting nearby and hears her shouts. At the edge of the lake, he takes off his hunting garb which unrolls into a long strip of cloth. He stakes one end of the cloth into the lakeside with his katana, and crawls out onto the ice holding the other end of the cloth, successfully pulls April to safety, and carries her back to the farmhouse.

Back inside, April is resting and recovering from hypothermia. Splinter, the turtles and Casey are gathered around her.

Splinter: She'll be fine. But we must let her rest. As for you, my sons, enough time has passed… Your spirits have drifted far too long. Come, we have much to do.

Splinter takes his four sons out into the wilderness for training.

Splinter: You must work harder! This winter has seen the diffusion of your energies… With the spring, you must rebuild your group spirit… For now, set aside individual pursuits… Your healing requires collective focus!

May 1, 1987 I can't believe it's been over a month since I fell through the ice… and even longer since I've picked up this journal. I almost didn't this time, either. it all seems to mean so little now. I started this book to rebuild all I had lost in the fire. I guess after my mid-winter swim (HA, HA) I realized how little my life long accumulation of possessions had. I thought I was all I had in this world. Not true. I've got me, and I've got memories. I also have friends, real friends that I care for and that care for me. I'll always be there for them and they for me; we have each other, we are a family… one. This will probably be my last entry. I guess I just wanted some kind of final word …sort of wrap up all I had written so far. Life is Good… and Life Goes on. After a day of training, Splinter and his sons are gathered around a campfire.

Splinter: You've done well, my sons… Your spirit glows bright and pure this night. Although I sense an almost peaceful nature throughout… Something still lingers. Yes, we were attacked by our past, Leonardo nearly killed… But we all feel the real cost was to April, a burden we shall always bear. Yet, our experience teaches us, in all the universe change is the only constant. Thus, the way of harmony is to accept change, we make choices in life—and our karma is to accept the changes those choices bring. Just as April chose to take us all into her life, she knew there would be changes… … I believe that April has gained more by her choice than she has lost… And I believe that she knows this. Life is good… And life goes on.

April wakes up in her bedroom to the sound of creaking. Is this another nightmare? She is pleasantly surprised by the four turtles: One serves her breakfast in bed as another prepares to give her flowers and another opens the window blinds to let in the morning light.

(https://turtlepedia.fandom.com/wiki/True_Stories)

Fan Art: TMNT by Kuvshinov-Ilya

Accompanying Podcast: ● Shellheads - episode 16

[sparklingchim]

long way home 08 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

rating: pg

genre: dilf!jungkook, friend to lovers, angst

warnings: jk helping oc to get changed, jk having some dirty thoughts🙄, he's kinda obsessed w her boobs

summary: the one where you're drunk and ask jungkook a question and he unknowingly crushes all your hopes with his answer.

a/n: the last update in 2021!!! 💫💫🌸💗

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08| 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |

masterlist | long way home masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

3 months ago

When Jungkook got texts from you at 4 am saying "hello" - "i hope ur still awake bcause" - "i called a cab and" - "here's the thing" - "i forgot my address" - "so i told him urs" - "sorry" - "u better be awake" "im tired and i wan cuddles" he knew that he was in for a long night.

It had been a long night already. His two month old baby refused to have a decent sleep this night. By now, Jungkook has figured out Nabi's weaknesses though - she loves hearing him softly sing a lullaby for her. And despite her falling asleep within seconds after he begins to softly hum a tune, she wakes up minutes later, crying and screaming. That cycle went on for hours and hours tonight.

Right now she's fast asleep again, Jungkook already counting the minutes till she will wake up again.

Although it's the middle of the night and Jungkook barely got any rest - he doesn't feel tired. His baby girl wailing in his arms for countless of times this night hasn't allowed drowsiness to swamp his body. His sleeping schedule is messed up anyways.

That's why Jungkook is slouching on his couch in the middle of the night, watching some movie on Netflix that he randomly selected from the action category.

He texts you that he is, indeed, awake and that you're welcome to spent the night at his.

Jungkook is actually glad that you're coming over. He's seen you a lot these past weeks because you try to help him with Nabi as often as possible, but he could never get enough of you being with him. Your presence is making him happier, a fact that would always stay the same.

Jungkook takes a sip from his beer that he just fished out from the fridge. He closes his eyes for a second. Maybe he's not tired but he feels the exhaustion lingering in his limbs.

He loves Nabi - he really does - but on nights like these he gets reminded of how hard it is to have a new born and to come accustomed to drastically changing your whole life and routine to have your baby's needs in the center. Especially if you didn't know that a new born would be thrown into your life without having any preparation for...anything.

It still gives Jungkook big fat headache whenever he thinks about his ex.

,,Sora," he mutters, spitefully - perhaps even in a disgusted manner.

But no, he wouldn't let his mind drift off to that cruel woman. Not tonight, at least.

"Jungkooook," you sing-song with a giggle following right after, softly knocking on his door.

Your voice instantly causes a smile to fall on Jungkook's mouth. Leaving his beer on the table he gets up and opens the door for you.

"Hiii, Kookie," you beam, almost collapsing into him with how much power you let yourself fall against his body. Your arms are around his back and your cheek is pressed against his chest. He wasn't even properly able to see your face before you snuggled against him.

Jungkook closes the door behind you before he rests his palms on the curve of your hip.

"Hey," he greets back, looking down at your face squished against his body. "You're not falling asleep right?"

"Noo, just, " - you rub your cheek against his muscular front, taking a deep breath through your nose - "missed you," you finish.

"We had a movie night yesterday, baby," Jungkook reminds you. His hands wander up your cold and bare arms. "Didn't you wear a jacket? Y/n, it's freezing outside." He scowls, rubbing your arms to warm you up.

"I..." you raise your head, staring at his chest with furrowed brows and deep in thoughts. "I had one on," you say. "Must have forgotten it somewhere."

Jungkook is already enough concerned about you catching a cold every time you wear these flimsy low-cut dresses to a nights out. Like, he can look right into your cleavage and god, your tits look amazing and he'd like to squeeze his head in between them for the rest of his life, but the temperature outside are fucking low and now you tell him that you forgot your jacket somewhere? Maybe you should catch a cold to learn your lesson. When he thinks about it, it actually sounds nice because then you could stay at his place and he could take care of you.

Jungkook blinks a few times. You're barely a minute here and already got him confused in the head - from being concerned to thinking about his face between your gorgeous tits to taking care of you when you're sick.

He sighs, shaking off all his thoughts. "Let's get you warmed up again."

Jungkook guides you to his bedroom by your hips. He sits you down on the edge of his bed, opening his closet to get a pullover from his and some sweatpants that you've left here a while ago.

Returning to you, he sets the clothes next to you on the bed. Jungkook kneels down, fiddling with the strap of your black heels before getting them off for you. He remembers you saying that these are the most comfortable high heels you've ever worn. He doesn't quite remember why he remembers such trivial things. With the knowledge he has about your heels he doesn't need to ask if you're feet are fine or if they hurt but he decides to ask anyway, just because he wants to make sure.

"Do your feet-" He gets cut off, well, not really cut off more like distracted by the fleeting view of the underside of your boobs before they vanish beneath the pullover that you pulled over your head. You had pulled your dress down to your tummy, fixing the pullover that now covered your upper half.

"Hm?" you ask, looking at him with those big gullible eyes because he didn't finish his sentence.

Jungkook gulps, mumbling a "nothing" under his breath.

You lift your hips, getting the dress off completely.

Jungkook doesn't mean to stare, he really doesn't, but - oh, are those new? He doesn't remember ever seeing you in some baby blue lace panties. They're cute though, look fancy and just absolutely radiate push them to the side and fuck you in nothing but these pretty panties on energy.

And then shove his face between your boobs and his night would be saved.

His thoughts are moving around dangerous territory right now and, what a surprise, he feels something moving and aching between his legs as well. He blames his 2 month long dry spell for this.

Nevertheless, Jungkook pushes those thoughts away and helps you get into the sweatpants.

"Where's my little baby?" you inquire, hands around Jungkook's biceps to help yourself up from the bed.

"Sleeping. And if you wake her up I'll never forgive you."

"Hmm, though night?" Your arms naturally loop around his neck.

Jungkook nods, your presence giving him much needed comfort. He draws you closer by pulling you by your waist.

"Let's sleep?" you suggest. "Want cuddles," you pout.

"I can tuck you into bed. I'm not tired yet."

"Watchu doing?"

"Just gonna finish watching that movie."

"Okay, I'll come with you."

~

Jungkook doesn't even care about the movie.

He cares more about paying attention to how perfectly you're body fits into his. You're cuddling him from the side, leg thrown over his lap, arm across his front.

He has a lazy arm thrown over your shoulder, thumb grazing over your clothed body.

"Jungkook?" you say, handing him the glass of water that he gave you to sober up a little. He leans forward to place it on the table.

"Mhm?"

"I just had a thought."

"Congratulations."

You ignore him his teasing. "What if parallel universes were a thing?"

"Would be pretty dope, I guess."

"With like the same people and stuff," you continue.

Jungkook hums, acknowledging that you've said something but not commenting on it.

You gasp a little. "What if there's a parallel universe where we're not friends but enemies?" Your eyes widen in shock.

Jungkook smiles at your cuteness. "That'd suck." His hand slips underneath your pullover, thumb rubbing over your warm skin on your hip bone.

"Or one in which we don't even know each other." There's a scowl on your face like that thought alone makes you sick.

"Then I'll take the enemies one. Can't live my life without you." It's sounds corny but it's the truth.

"You know what I also thought about?" you ask almost hesitantly, fingers brushing over his chest.

"Hm?" His hand on your hip pulls you closer to him.

"A parallel universe in which we both would be dating."

"You think that'd be a good idea?" he asks.

"Well, better than not knowing each other." You frown. "What do you think?"

"Not a good idea."

Your frown deepens, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. "Why?"

"There are too many reasons not to be with you."

You raise your head to look into his eyes. He can't decipher what's going though your mind right now. But you look a little startled, maybe he'd go that far to call it hurt. But that's...why would you feel hurt? Was he too harsh? It's not like - no, it's definitely not like you're hurt because you have feelings for him...right? That couldn't be.

But that look in your eyes stays for a little longer and Jungkook doesn't know what's the truth anymore.

When he thinks about it - why would you think about him and you being together? You're drunk, he tells himself. You don't know what you're saying. He shouldn't put a deep meaning into you drunkenly fantasising about things.

Aren't drunk words sober thoughts, tho?

But then, thankfully, his suspicion gets proved wrong when you look away with a roll of your eyes. "You're rude."

Jungkook heaves a little sigh of relief. "I'm just stating facts. We're better off as friends."

"That's true," you agree. "But you're still rude. And your facts are stupid."

"You're stupid."

"I hate you."

"I love you."

"Shut up."

"You started."

The banter continues till Jungkook feels your palm colliding with the back of his head.

~

"Hey...why are you still awake?" Jungkook wonders as he looks down at you.

After the movie Jungkook brought you to his bed. You're head rests atop his chest and for the past minutes you've been staring into the darkness, your head full of thoughts.

You shortly avert your eyes at him before continuing to stare up at the ceiling.

"You know, if you want to fall asleep you'd have to close your eyes," he tells you, fingers brushing trough your hair.

You don't have the energy to answer him. You just grumble something incoherently.

"Baby, what's the matter?" he inquires, his question only a whisper and you hate how much he cares.

Because you thought maybe, maybe after all this time he'd feel the same. Just a little bit.

He gave you an answer tonight. You didn't even notice where you were steering the conversation at. But then you had that thought in mind and you just went for it because...well, there was still hope in you left.

Now you know. And you realise you were foolish to have hope left.

When you're about to answer with a stupid excuse as to why you're not able to sleep, Nabi's cries resound through the apartment.

Without another word Jungkook pushes your thigh off his body and climbs out of the bed to get to Nabi.

As soon as you're left alone there are tears stinging your eyes.

You shut your eyes close, burying your face into the pillow and desperately try to fall asleep. To not feel the pain anymore.

When you wake up tomorrow every thing will be fine. You'll forget what he said to you.

But it's hard going to sleep when there's this annoying thought looping in your mind. It's unstoppable and insufferable.

When Jungkook comes back you pretend to be asleep. He doesn't notice. He simply gives you a peck on the forehead and pulls you into his arms. You hate how you're heart feels like when he does all of that.

So you lie there awake for the whole night, with you're heart aching and your hope only existing as broken pieces, and Jungkook's remark embedded in your head.

There are too many reasons not to be with you.

[mr2swap]

stuck here for 5 years maybe 3

Maybe I should have thought I'm better, but now I'm stuck here for 5 years maybe 3 years with good behavior and my stepfather is free with my body, it's fucking unfair!

At least in my body it won't be any danger to anyone, now it's so pathetic and effeminate that it disgusts me, I feel different too, and it's not just because now I'm in my stepfather's mature and horny body, there's something strange in my head why do I feel so angry and horny all the time?

I can not concentrate! My head is full of hot thoughts, Even right now my dick is leaking between my tattooed legs thinking about how big the boobs are from that sexy cop who put me in his squad car, Maybe it's the side effects Jackson was talking about I need to get back in my body and get out of here or I'll be stuck here masturbating in a cell surrounded by a bunch of my fellow inmates.

I didn't understand why my mom had a crush on this guy Kyle, he was just a drug addict jerk who dropped out of college for being too jerky and now works as a mechanic in our garage when he's not smoking pot or lifting weights in the yard.

my best friend Jackson had shared his family secret with me a magical body swap amulet, at first I just thought he was a strange boy but I became suspicious when one day he suddenly confessed to me that he was actually his father and he and Jackson had swapped places for his birthday, it was super cool! It was exactly what I needed, if he could take my stepfather's body he could ruin his relationship with my mother or maybe threaten him to get away from us!

After begging Jackson and his father on their knees for 15 minutes, they agreed to lend their magical amulet. only they gave me a little warning, I had to go back to my body in a week or my head would end up fucked by my stepfather Kyle's personality.

The tricky part was putting the magic necklace on Kyle luckily after smoking his late-night weed Kyle didn't usually get up until noon his snoring was loud and deep he was unconscious he used to sleep on the couch to avoid my mom after arguing.

This was my chance, when the necklace was already between his thick muscular neck and that shaved airhead, I felt a bit of static on my fingers before I walked away and went back to my bed, if this worked I promised to do Jackson's homework in a week, and it worked.

The next day I woke up confused by the effeminate cries of Kyle who was now in my body, at first I thought I was having a nightmare but when I could react I stood up and ran my callused and mature hands over Kyle's tanned and tattooed body, I felt amazing! My original body felt like shit compared to how powerful and huge my new body was, there was only one problem he kept fucking me, I had to confess what I had done so he would shut his mouth and threaten to leave him as in my body and to live the rest of his life as a nerdy faggot.

I spent the best 3 days of my entire life, while Kyle enjoyed being beaten up by my bullies from school I spent the afternoon shaking Kyle's huge cock in front of the bedroom mirror while smoking his marijuana and enjoying worshiping my huge tattooed arms, I even considered not going back to my body and staying with his mature and muscular body.

But I only had a week, I wasn't planning on becoming a homophobic 40-year-old drug addict, but I have to admit I enjoyed every moment in Kyle's hot body, being straight is so weird! I'm obsessed with boobs and sex my evenings used to be about smoking weed and watching a lesbian's boobs bounce off my phone fuck I even let my mom suck me off when she had smoked a bunch of weed she's so good with her mouth that moaned so loudly when I ejaculated into her mouth that even Kyle heard it.

Of course, Kyle tried to resist his new homosexuality but when I found him jerking off with my dirty underwear on his face I knew I had learned my lesson, I swear I was going to swap our bodies but… the fucking police caught me.

Idiot Kyle had been stealing the parts of the cars he repaired to sell later, when the police handcuffed me and slammed me against the wall the magic necklace fell to the floor and the son of a bitch Kyle took it like the scared bitch he is now and hid it.

I had to use my only phone call to contact Jackson and his father and beg them to do something to get me back in my body, I explained the whole situation to them before hanging up and they promised to try to talk to Kyle about swapping our bodies at the next family visit, I have to get out of here as soon as possible I can't let that bastard stay in my body and my house.

ver. esp: https://docs.google.com/document/d/15ORtxx1n3PfXeS98lzFLH2e3rlkg9Ekh/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=107158653856520005008&rtpof=true&sd=true

Hi guys! I wrote this story last month, I have a lot of stories that I haven't posted on tumblr, if you want to support me and you like my stories take a look at my patreon account.

[dibs4ever]

Sparring or More?

It had been 2 weeks since Dick had returned home after being away for a fair amount of time with the Titans.

He missed them, but reconnecting with Barbara over the past 15 days had made him realize just how much he missed her too.

Currently they were in the Batcave, dressed in work out clothes and in a sparring match.

They always loved sparring before, when they were just kids. Batgirl and Robin. Two teenagers who were secretly doing what most everyone else their age couldn’t fathom.

Now it was different though. He wasn’t Robin anymore. He was Nightwing.

They most definitely weren’t teenagers anymore either, that was for certain.

Dick came back and had unintentionally started to notice the changes of maturity in Barbara’s body, curvier-wider hips, fuller breasts, a more mature face, bigger stronger legs....

She was his best friend. Sure they always had this.....thing. Even as teens, but they never really persuaded it because at the end of the day they were one another’s best friend.

She dodged a hit from him and bounced back on her toes. This caused Dick to look her up and down. The curves of her body had blossomed he mentally noted once again.

Distraction was not a good thing for Dick Grayson because within a second he was on the ground. Pinned beneath her

She had his hands held above his head with one hand. Another rest on a pressure point in his left shoulder

“Pinned ya” Barbara grinned, bowing her head so her long red hair fanned around his face “Just like old times” she grinned

Dick smiled “Just like old times.” They locked eyes, Barbara licked her bottom lip, her eyes dancing down his body then back up “Yeah like old times.” She repeated softly, her grip on him loosening, Dick freed his hands. But neither of them went to get up.

Dick unintentionally put his hands on her thighs. Her big, strong thighs that spread out completely around his rib cage.

She didn’t say anything. In fact she’d moved her other hand to his right shoulder, slowly stroking the muscles beneath with her thumb .

Was she feeling the same way about him?

He gave her thighs a light squeeze, rubbing circles on them with the pads of his thumbs.

Barbara looked down at him, their eyes locking once more. She slowly started to bend down closer and closer to his face. His hands slid up gripping her waist

Their lips were a mere inch apart when.....

“Okay who’s ready for some train—-ing.” Jason’s voice rang through

Both quickly jumped apart at the sound of the newest Robin’s voice

“Jase we were ugh.” Dick spoke

“Sparring” Barbara reminded

Dick nodded “Yeah sparring she spared me real good.” Dick punched his palm for enforcement

Jason rose an eyebrow “Sparring? That close to his face Barbie?”

Barbara nodded “Yeah, just a little intimidation talk-ya know telling him I won and there’s no way he’d beat me.”

Jason nodded “Okay, if I just act like I believe you do you promise I’ll never walk in on what was...or might of been or was about to happen again ?”

Both Dick and Barbara nodded eagerly

Jason clapped his hands “Fine then lets work out and pretend I never saw what was or wasn’t about to happen.”

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 10: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (3/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1724

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Notes: This story was originally posted in 2014

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

Killian surged forward, lips crashing against hers, body pressing her to the immutable surface of her apartment door, arms binding her to him.

Good thing too.  At the touch of his lips against hers, the sensation of his tongue seeking entrance, the feel of his heart racing beneath her hand trapped between them, Emma sagged and her knees threatened to buckle altogether.

Emma opened for him, moaning his name as his tongue came to tangle with hers.  She rose to her toes, threading her fingers through his hair, seeking to bring him ever closer, they would never be close enough. 

Her apartment complex was normally a busy bustling place, but tonight, at 11:30 on Christmas Eve night, it was as empty as Gold’s black heart.  Just as well.  The way she and Killian were going at it, anyone passing by was liable to get quite the show—and definitely not one suited to children.

With a groan Killian pulled away, but Emma was having none of it.  She wasn’t done kissing him yet; not nearly.  She chased his lips with her own, giving her pirate no quarter.

“Emma,” he moaned, as he gave up all attempts at resistance and met her head on.

They’d just returned from the town Christmas party at Granny’s.  Her mom had really outdone herself with that one.  The food, laughter and eggnog flowed abundantly.  Everyone seemed to have imbibed the Christmas spirit, buoyed, no doubt by the fact that they’d gone a full month without a villain in sight. 

It seemed Killian had enjoyed his first Christmas party.  He’d particularly enjoyed the dirty Santa gift exchange, throwing himself into the spirit of the game with wild abandon.  He’d put his pirate skills to good use, stealing one after another of his neighbors’ gifts.  Emma suspected it was more for the thrill of mayor-sanctioned theft than it was for the actual gifts he’d gained.  She laughingly said as much to him as he gleefully stole a bottle of lavender-scented bath salts from under Ruby’s very nose.

“You’re really going to tell me you want girly bath salts?” she’d teased.

“And why not?” he’d asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes.  “I happen to be well aware that you favor the scent of lavender.  It was my hope that were I to acquire these salts I might persuade you to…um…help me put them to use.”

When all was said and done, Killian had been left with a gift certificate for free dinner at Granny’s for a week.  She….well, she’d made a last minute swap for the bath salts, a fact that made Killian’s eyes light up like a kid let loose in a candy shop.

When the party broke up, Killian walked her back to her apartment door where he was currently kissing her so thoroughly she could barely remember her own name.

After long moments, Killian pulled away and then rested his forehead against hers.  “Best we slow down love,” he said breathlessly.  “Much longer, and we’re bound to start a conflagration that will consume this entire building.”

“Yeah,” she said, equally breathless.  “But what a way to go.”

He laughed and took a step back.  “I suppose it’s time I take my leave.  You’re to be at your parents’ bright and early tomorrow for Christmas morning festivities.”

Emma took hold of the lapels of Killian’s coat and gave him another quick peck.  “You mean we’re to be at my parents’ bright and early.”

He looked suddenly uncertain.  “I don’t wish to impose.  It is after all a family event.”

Emma shook her head, her heart turning over with tenderness for this man.  “When are you going to learn that you are family?  We all want you there, and I, well, I’d really miss you if you bailed on us.  Besides, if you don’t join us for Christmas morning, when am I going to get to give you my gift?”

“You bought me a gift?”  His voice was awestruck.

“Of course!  I have a feeling you’re going to like it too.”

Emma knew how much he enjoyed reading.  His cabin on the Jolly Roger had been practically covered, floor to ceiling with books.  She’d bought him as many of this realm’s pirate tales and stories as she could get her hands on.

“There’s no doubt of that, love,” he said gently.  “I have a gift for you as well, but I have been assured that Christmas is the day for gift giving.  It would be quite bad form to spoil my surprise the night before.”

“All the more reason to join us in the morning.”

His smile turned infinitely tender, and he cupped her cheek.  “I’d love to be there, Swan.  Which is, of course, why I’d best take my leave so that you can get your rest for the big day.”

Emma’s eyes flitted away from his for a moment before focusing back on him.  “Stay with me tonight?  Henry’s staying with Regina, and, well, no one should have to spend Christmas Eve alone.”

Killian dragged in a ragged breath.  “I’d be honored to spend the remainder of Christmas Eve with you.

Emma unlocked her apartment, gave Killian another quick kiss and then waved him in behind her.  “Go ahead and plug in the tree; maybe see about starting a fire.  I’ll make us some cocoa.”

After their conversation in the woods, Killian and Henry had tag teamed her until she’d agreed to just about every Christmas tradition Henry could think of.  The three of them had bought and cut down a Christmas tree, decorated the thing within an inch of its life (Killian’s hook being surprisingly handy in the endeavor), hung all three of their stockings by the chimney with care, and baked and decorated what felt like enough Christmas cookies for the entire town.  When Killian learned of the tradition of sending people Christmas cards, he’d even convinced her to send the damn things out—complete with a photo of the three of them sitting before the fire, steaming mugs of cocoa in hand, the lit tree in the background.

It was cheesy as hell.

She loved it.

She finished preparing their drinks—which for her consisted of boiling water and pouring it over packets of cocoa mix—and then headed for the living room.

“Well, you’ve made good use of your time,” she said with a smile.  The tree was lit, a roaring fire crackled in the hearth, and a smug pirate sat on the rug before it, surrounded by pillows.

“I aim to please darling.” 

She sat beside him, depositing their cocoa on the end table and settling in his waiting arms.

“I do believe you’re forgetting something, love,” he said, mischief in every syllable.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Look and see for yourself.”

Emma sat up and stifled a laugh.  The idiot sat before her holding the largest sprig of mistletoe she’d ever seen.  She leaned forward and kissed him playfully.  “You’re insatiable.”

“Aye,” he said, returning the kiss with exuberance, “but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Without warning, it all crashed over her once again.  She’d nearly lost him.  His heart had nearly been crushed in front of her, and she’d been powerless to stop it.  The memory made her start to shake, and Emma clung to Killian so tightly he’d end up with bruises in the morning.  She buried her face in his neck and breathed him in, her hand slipping beneath his shirt to rest over his heart.  She needed this; she needed the confirmation that he was still there, that his heart was still where it belonged.

“Emma, love,” he said, rubbing her back, “is something the matter?”

Emma forced herself to sit up and look him in the eye.  If nearly losing him had taught her anything, it was that every day with this man was a gift—a gift that could be snatched from her at any moment.  The fact that he might have died not knowing, not truly knowing how she felt about him was like a slap to the face.   She needed to remedy that.  Immediately.  Emma was terrified to say the words, but it was time; it was far past time.

“Killian, I…I just need you to know something.”

“Very well, Swan,” he said hesitantly, “you do know there is nothing you cannot tell me, do you not?”

“Yeah,” She took a deep breath and then plunged in.  “It’s just that…well, I don’t know how to do this but just come out and say it:  I love you.  I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.  It scares the hell out of me, but, well, I just needed you to know.  Whatever happens, no matter how many evil villains try to tear us apart, I needed you to know.  I need you to…”

He leaned forward and captured her lips, effectively cutting off what was threatening to turn into babbling.  This kiss was different, soft, gentle, unhurried.  Emma reached up between them and caressed his face with gentle strokes.  This was right.  This man was it for her.  If he’d died up there in the clock tower she didn’t know how she’d ever have survived it.”

“I love you too,” he whispered as he finally pulled away.  “Until the end of time, I’ll love you. With every breath I take, every beat of my heart, I love you. There’ll never be another for me but you.”

She grinned against his chest.  “Better not be.”

“No other lass stands the ghost of a chance against you.  I swear to be unfailingly true to you until I take my last breath and long, long after.”

“I know,” she said tremulously.  “And you can expect the same from me.”

He gathered her back into her arms and they sat in silence for some time.  When he spoke again, the teasing note was back in his voice.  “So, Swan, how do you propose we while away the rest of this Christmas Eve?”

She sat back and gave him a grin.  “Well, I was thinking we could resume that make out session we had going on outside…and then we could, kind of, see where that takes us.”

“That, Swan, is the best idea you’ve had all year.”

NEXT CHAPTER-->

[kookiecrumb]

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

~

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.