#so I haven't been able to answer D:

[petrichormeraki]

oh my GOD you need to watch genloss it is literally a MASTERPIECE you would like it so much and the themes and the tones are great and it's heart breaking and it's just SO SO GOOD

I KNOW I KNOWWWWWW I'VE WANTED TO SEE IT SINCE IT CAME OUT BUT I HAVEN'T THE TIME 😭

[loverboybrightsideghost]

cactus and papyrus for the get to know you asks! :)

cactus ⇢ something you’re currently learning (about)?

i've been brushing up on my music theory, so i'm happy about that. i'm doing it because i need to do that to be like. a good musician. but also because i think it's fun (which is why i'm a musician in the first place)!

papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?

the song is "a lonely impulse of delight" by twin beds. i first heard it on welcome to night vale last year, and oh man. this song punched me in the guts when i first heard it. i associate it with my own queerness and the fact that that's nooot always easy. i love this song so much though :))) it's a great song. 

[shouyuus]

doctor, doctor

zayne; 3,377; fluff and smut, no "y/n", knowing use of sex drugs, handjob, oral (f!receiving), face riding, shockingly soft intermission, missionary, internal creampies, banter (it's zayne duh), needy!zayne

summary: zayne volunteers as a guinea pig to test out an antidote to a new love drug. spoiler alert: the antidote sucks.

a/n: phew! i haven't written this much porn in... /checks watch/ well ever really. but im not that mad about it! it's a genre i've always felt a bit weak in so im glad to get some practice :) pls enjoy!

aphrodite made me!! masterlist

─── 黎深 YOU KNOW SOMETHING’S WRONG the second he gets home. There’s a bright flush to his cheeks, a glassy look to his eyes, and he reaches out to brace himself against the counter almost as soon as he’s through the door, sucking in a deep breath.

“Z-Zayne? What’s wrong?” you rush up to him, reaching out to press a palm to his cheek, lashes fluttering as you pull it away, startled. “Oh my god, you’re burning up!”

“No — it’s fine. I’m fine.” He tries to push you away, but can’t help the soft groan that leaves his lips as he nuzzles into your touch. You frown, letting him press into the palm of your hand before he turns to drop a kiss to your skin, looking down at you with hooded eyes. “It’s… not what you think.”

“Not what I…” you blink up at him, worry slowly being eclipsed by a trembling uncertainty.

Something’s not right, you think, but judging by the way he’s still able to hold himself steady, he’s not that sick. So then —

“Ah… fuck —” he curses, leaning forward to bury his nose into your shoulder, tugging you to him in a sudden embrace that has you squeaking, startled by the strength of his hold. And you’re not imagining it; up this close, you can feel his thready heartbeat reverberating through his chest to yours, and his arms around you — is he… trembling?

“Zayne?”

It’s so rare that he curses so easily, so openly. Usually, this kind of language is reserved for the bedroom but —

You go still in his arms, heat washing up the back of your neck into your cheeks as you feel the unmistakable hardness against your hip. Your mind grinds to a startling halt as you try to reconcile these two pieces of strange, incompatible information.

He’s sick… but he’s hard?

“Sorry — I just —” he tries to pull away, shaking his head as if to clear it but his eyes are still glazed when he stumbles back and lets himself sag against the closed front door. You let your eyes take stock of him — his ruddy cheeks and fluttering lashes, the shiver in his limbs, the clench in his jaw as he looks anywhere but at you.

“Zayne. What’ going on?”

He almost hisses at the sharp edge to your tone.

“There’s a new drug out on the market,” he says, his voice thin even as he cards a hand through his hair and tries to take a steadying breath. “It’s… being sold underground, and it’s a potent —” he swallows, tugging at his collar, and it’s only then that you notice the thin sheen of sweat glistening over his skin, “— a potent love drug.”

Your eyebrows skyrocket as you blink up at him.

“A… love drug?”

Zayne sighs, frowning slightly as he jerks at his tie, pulling the knot loose to let it hang around his neck as he thumbs at the top button of his shirt. His fingers, usually so quick and nimble, seem strangely uncoordinated. And after a second, you reach out to gently swat his hand away, popping the top button for him, blushing as he hisses out a breath and lets his head thump back against the door.

“Yes,” he answers, his voice clipped as he tries to look anywhere but at your face. “Our R&D department has been developing a cure and —”

“And?” you ask, letting your finger trace down the thin band of his exposed chest to catch on the next button of his shirt.

“And…” he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he purses his lips, “they needed willing participants to —”

Understanding floods through you like a wash of cold water. You let out a disbelieving laugh.

“You volunteered to test the antidote,” you say, staring up at his flushed face, his sweat-slick skin, the unfocused fracture to his eyes, the way his pupils are blown so wide they look almost entirely black.

You lick your lips, feeling another wave of heat crest through you as tingles shoot down your spine at the thought.

“Yes,” he answers again, sounding aggrieved and relieved both that you’ve finally understood.

“But…” you let your words trail off, letting your eyes rake down his trembling body and back up again.

Zayne sighs, shaking his head, “Well, it’s a work in progress.”

“Mm,” you hum, biting back a laugh that you know wouldn’t be entirely appropriate, given the desperate look on his face. Still, that forbidden knot had started to twist in your gut as you assess the situation.

It’s not every day that chance delivers your boyfriend so pliant and willing to your literal shared front door. And you’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“So?” you say, taking half a step back and folding your arms, reveling in the way he tips forward immediately to chase your warmth. “How do we —” you wave a hand towards him, feeling a strange, impossible fit of giggles threatening to spill from you at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Zayne slates you a rueful look before leaning back to pinch at his nose bridge.

“T-the researchers say that the effects —” he pauses to take another deep breath. You can’t help noticing the increasingly obvious bulge in his work slacks and you feel your own thighs tense as the knot in your stomach twists just a tad tighter. “The effects should wear off on their own in a few hours but…”

“But?” you prompt, lacing your hands behind your back as you teeter on the balls of your feet, feeling an ever-familiar tingle race from the nape of your neck to the tips of your toes.

“But… there’s nothing much to do except to —” Zayne’s fingers twitch as he forces himself to open his eyes and stare at a nondescript point over your shoulder, “to ride it out, as they say.”

At this, you break — you fall into a fit of giggles that has Zayne sighing again as he pushes himself off the door and making his unsteady way to the bedroom.

“W-wait! Where’re you going?” you ask, tugging at his arm.

He twists to stare at you, “I — to bed. Or I can sleep on the couch tonight if it’ll make you more —”

You roll your eyes and yank him down for a kiss. He can’t even pretend to protest as he moans and melts into the heat of your mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair and feel his palms gripping at your waist, tight, and then tighter.

“Y���know… for a smart guy… you’re really kind of clueless sometimes.”

“Y-yeah?” Zayne asks, his breath hot against your lips. You nod, letting him tug you both back towards the bedroom, him nearly stumbling in his haste, you biting back another fit of giggles as he sits down hard on the edge of the bed and slots you between his legs, running his hands up and down the backs of your legs, fingers dancing towards the lace trimming of your panties.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to help you?” you ask, your voice low.

He lets out another thick groan as you cup his cheeks and tilt his head back to look at you.

“I — I don’t — I thought that maybe —” he stutters, but you shake your head.

“C’mon doc,” you say, grinning as his eyes narrow. You give his chest a light push and watch, satisfied, as he allows himself topple back onto the mattress. “Tell me where it hurts.”

He sucks in a breath between his teeth, staring at you with a look of such unadulterated love that you find yourself almost getting shy. Almost. You crawl onto the bed, nudging apart his legs, walking your fingers up this thighs as he jerks, head falling back into the pillows.

“Please…” the plea leaves his lips parted, and you feel the heat pulse between your own legs, feel your mouth water as you look down at the pliant, panting form of Zayne’s body, spread out on the bed, his chest rising and falling at quick intervals as he watches you from beneath hooded eyes.

Briefly, you consider teasing him, but disregard the thought after realizing that he’d probably driven home feeling much like this. And you reach up to tug loose the belt, making quick work of his trousers, pulling down his boxers to reveal his cock — thick and leaking so much precum that your hands come away sticky.

“A-ah — fuck.” Again, he swears, as you tentatively wrap your fingers around his girth, and it’s not the first time you’ve done this, nor will it be the last, but it never fails to surprise you (just a little) how thick he is in your hands — how your fingers don’t reach all the way around.

You give him a few solid pumps, feeling the angry veins pulse beneath your palms as you try to work up a tempo, his hips jumping as he lets out a string of deep, throaty moans that have you clenching around nothing.

“Wait — wait —” he reaches for you, his thighs jumping slightly as your rhythm slows, and he hisses out a long breath, his brows furrowed as you tease your thumb around the underside of his cock hood, allowing yourself a tiny, devious grin as he whimpers high in the back of his throat.

“Yes, doc? Did you have any… complaints?” you drag your tongue across your lips before leaning down and letting your hot breath fan over his purpling head, feeling the heat between your own legs spread through you as thick beads of precum ooze from his slit.

“Come — come here —” he motions up the bed and you cock your head, glancing back down at what you’re certain is quite the painful erection.

“You don’t want…” you tighten your hold around his shaft as he catches his lips in his teeth and groans.

“I — I do. But I want —” he swallows, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief second, “I want to taste you.”

Desire curls solid at the base of your spine as you feel yourself throbbing at the thought. Zayne’s never been anything but a devout lover, and you’d often reflected that it really does pay to have a boyfriend who has a truly occupational knowledge of human anatomy.

“Yeah?” you ask, your own voice going breathy as you inch up the mattress, his hands settling so easily on the plush of your thighs, his eyes flitting up and down your body almost as if he doesn’t quite know where to look. You lift up your skirt and tug off your panties, with the full intention of lowering yourself slowly, but with a wretched moan, Zayne pulls you down over his face hard enough for you to gasp, your weight tipping forward so hard that you have to brace your hands on the backboard to stop yourself from toppling right over.

You feel his tongue lick a long strip along the seam of your cunt, the sting of his fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you over his mouth, groaning into the sopping heat of you, his tongue already pushing into you as he gives your clit a hard suck that has your mind fizzing out into tv static.

“Z-Zayne — oh fuck —!”

He strains against you, pressing his face so far into you you���re almost afraid he’s going to suffocate, but he only holds you tighter when you try to pull away, his mouth chasing your puffy lips. You grind yourself against his face, feeling his nose nudge at your clit as he sinks his tongue ever deeper into you, fucking it into you with a perverse need.

And it doesn't take long like this, not when he's so intimately aware of all your softest parts, all your most sensitive places.

“I — ah — ah — I’m s-so —” you stutter, as you feel the familiar tightening in your belly, the coil twisting as thin tendrils of heat start to skitter up through your limbs and you feel your orgasm building inside you.

Zayne lets out a debauched moan, letting it rumble from his mouth straight into your cunt and it’s enough to have your eyes fluttering shut as you break over his mouth, whimpering, hips stuttering as the white-hot fire chases washes through you in a great wave, leaving you feeling boneless and slightly winded.

Zayne pulls away panting, licking his lips, his eyes dark as an oil spill, completely devoid of light as he stares up at you, his gaze more licentious than you’ve ever seen it before. Even in the champagne-bubble weightlessness of your post-orgasmic haze, you recognize the crystalizing need in his movements as he releases your thighs, his handprints inked into your skin, red and fresh — you’re sure they’ll still be there tomorrow.

“H-how do you want me?” you ask, your voice a little slurred as he reaches up to wipe a thumb along his bottom lip, collecting the remnants of your slick there, only to lean in and press his mouth to yours. You groan against him, the messy tang of your own juices sharp on your tongue as he kisses you, pressing you back into the mattress till you’re pinned beneath him.

“Just like this…” he whispers, and you marvel at the restraint still in his actions, even as he quickly sheds the rest of his clothing, tossing them off into the careless dark of the room.

There’s a moment, caught in-between one kiss and the next, where he pulls back and looks at you, his eyes so soft, his expression unguarded, where you wonder if you’ll ever be able to see yourself through his eyes, and a tender warmth spreads through you as you realize that this is what love has always meant to feel like. There have been fireworks, yes, and whirlwinds. There’ve been storms and sunny days. But there will always be moments like this, caught in the almost light of a moonless night, when you are so much more than the sum of your parts, added together.

When your bodies are more breath than air, skin and share, and all the parts of you that you might’ve wanted to hide from the world are here, collected in the negative space between your bodies, held and loved like buried treasure.

“I love you,” he says, quietly, simply.

You gasp as you feel him pushing into you, his cock stretching you till you’re nearly breathless.

“I — I love you too.”

Zayne nods, fucks into you till he’s bottomed out, and though you can feel his arms trembling with the effort, he holds still to let you adjust. And it’s not till you give him a tiny nod that he puffs out a held breath and pulls back to fuck right back into you again. You keen, head tossing back into the mess of sheets, feeling every vein and ridge of his cock as it drags along your clenching walls.

“I don’t — I won’t be able to —” he can’t make out a full sentence, but you don’t care, just the size and weight of him are enough to make your vision blinker out at the edges.

“Mm — h-harder — please Zayne —” and its his name more than anything that proves his undoing. He lets out a clipped grunt before straightening and pulling your legs up, shifting your hips till you’re flush against him.

“Y-yeah — I’ve got you —” he gives you calf a quick kiss before rucking his hips down, his cock ramming into your g-spot hard enough for you to see stars. And then hammering into you with a desperate speed, chasing his own pleasure and it’s all you can do to keep from being tossed over the edge, too far, too fast.

“Yes — yes — yes!” you’re babbling something, nails scrabbling at his arms, his chest, his back, at anything you can reach as he pummels your abused hole, bullying his cock deeper and deeper into you till you clench around him, your orgasm blazing through you even as he shows no signs of slowing down.

“It’s — you feel — so — tight —” his pace stutters, his voice breaking over your name as he hoists one of your legs over his hips, “I’m —”

You nod, reaching up to tug a strand of hair away from his sweat-slicked forehead.

“I-inside — you can — want you to fill me up —”

Zayne keens, thrusting forward one last time before you feel him pulsing inside you, the warm spill of his cum stuffing you full till you can feel the remnants leaking down the curve of your ass. You bite your lips, swallowing hard as Zayne jerks into you a few more times till he finally stills, the pair of you both panting, your bodies sticky now with too many bodily fluids to count.

You let out a breathy laugh as he hisses, casting you a reproachful look.

“Y-you’re still hard…”

He sighs, nodding, “Yes… it’s one of the… more tedious side effects of the drug.”

He makes to pull out but you stop him, tugging him into your chest and running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

“You need to tell your R&D department that their antidote is very ineffective.”

Zayne chuckles, rolling onto his side and pulling you with him, the pair of you now curled into each other, his arms around you, his twitching cock still pressed inside you.

“Yes, I’ll be sure to send them a memo.”

You nuzzle further into his chest but your eyes catch on the clock hanging on the opposite wall and you frown.

“It’s only been… 43 minutes?”

Zayne glances at the clock as well before turning his gaze back towards you.

“Seems so.”

You lick your lips, feeling your mouth go dry as you feel him throb once more inside you.

“How long… did you say the effects last for again?”

Zayne heaves a very serious-sounding sigh even as you adjust yourself to be sitting over his hips, his cock sheathed inside you as you plant your hands on his chest.

“The R&D department said anywhere from a few hours to…” he lets his words trail off, a devious glint flashing behind his eyes, “in the worst cases, a few days.”

You shiver as he casually settles his palms on your hips, rocking you forward and back. You let out a hitched moan as your over-sensitive clit drags along the skin of his lower abdomen and his cock jerks inside you.

“D-days?” you echo, swirling your hips around in a soft figure 8 that has him sucking in a harsh breath, his brows furrowing with pleasure.

“Y-yeah… I’m assuming your offer of help still s-stands?” he does his level best to keep his voice dry, but his breath hitches as you pull yourself up the length of his cock before slamming back down. And already, there’s that self-same hunger eclipsing the light in his eyes as he stares down at the place where a thick ring of white has formed around the base of his cock, more liquid seeping out of you with every moment you make.

“Mm — maybe I’ll need a f-few breaks but —” you whimper as he thrust up into you, his thighs clenching beneath you, “like you said w-we just n-need to ride it out, right?”

Zayne purses his lips in concentration as he roots his feet into the bed before fucking up into you once, twice, three times, bouncing you on his cock with the sheer strength of his legs and thighs.

“Right.”

all taglist pt 1: @faeryminnyx @trashkitty @sorapricots @tricia816xoxo @nayo3ns @veetallla @notfr0mh3r3 @sh4nn @animecrazy76 @celestialforce @celestialzdiviner @m00nchildwrites @glitching-wren @ivana013-blog @rafayelsgf @pikachuzhc @angellinnie @stardewy @zombigirlfriendsblog @storyland-ofstars @xxfaithlynxx @crazy-ink-artist

all taglist pt 2: @wowunreal @boobearymuch @livonianmaia @celestialmoni @colorfulgardenerduck @bunnylechef @rikiwaify-blog @deepspacewithrafayel @nogitsune-the @carrotsandkoos @stardustwtx @yaoduriaa @queen-serena88 @stunies @simpingdailyforthem @love-and-deepstrays @small-fry28

the rest of the tags will be in the reblog!

[somethingthing]

Head Scratches

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: slight sexual indications, tiny bit of angst if you squint, other than that, FLUFF

Word Count: ~900

A/N: I’ve literally forgotten how to write but I wanna start again so i apologize for any mistakes and feedback is always welcome!!

Hope you enjoy!

It was a quiet evening, in fact the whole day had been quiet. Your last hunt had drained all of you, making you come to the decision to not go looking for your next.

Dean had protested at first. Not wanting to waste anytime in finding the yellow-eyed demon, yet here he was. Laying with his head in your lap on the dusty sofa in the corner of the even dustier motel room you´d all taken into for the night.

"You know, one of these days we have to splurge just a little bit. Get a proper hotel room, or at least a room that doesn't make me sneeze every five minutes." you said mindlessly as one of your hands ran through his short hair. When you didn´t get an answer you stopped for a second and looked down at him. His eyes were shut. "You´re not falling asleep on me, are you? Sam will be back with some food soon" you stated.

Dean gave out a small huff "Why´d you stop?" One of his hands reached up behind his head, fumbling to find yours, he took it and firmly tangled your fingers back into his hair again "Please do continue sweetheart" eyes still closed.

You smiled softly, not being able to deny how much you enjoyed the nickname "For someone who was so determined to not take a quiet day in, you seem to be enjoying it an awful lot" you giggled out.

"How couldn´t I?" he slowly opened his eyes to look at you, letting a sly grin grace his lips "I´m in company of an very hot woman who continues to stroke my head when i tell her too" he wiggled his eyebrows at you, flashing an even bigger grin.

You rolled your eyes at him "Ha ha very funny" you slapped his chest gently "I´m staring to wonder if this head," tapping your fingers against his forehead "actually does any thinking, and not just the other one" you let your eyes dart to the lower half of his body.

"Not when you´re around sweetheart" he closed his eyes again with a content sight "The not so little, little man down there is perfectly capable of thinking on his own" he said, a bit too proud of himself.

"Jerk" was all you got out, trying keep the heat on your face from rising. You and Dean were something, a thing as Sam would call it, and yeah, maybe you were, but nothing ever really happened.

He´d flirt, you´d respond with something equally as flirty or do your best to try and sound grossed out. Other than that, nothing happened. You didn’t really know what you felt, you liked him, really liked him, but then what? Both your lives where chaos, always on the move, putting your lives on the line almost daily.

Too deep in thought you hadn´t noticed Dean staring at you, nudging you slightly "Hey," snapped out of it you looked down at him "what´s up? That wasn´t too far was it?" he looked at you, slightly concerned.

Still slightly out of it you shook your head "What?" his words slowly coming into your mind "No... no it´s..." you didn´t know how to phrase it, so you just blurred it out "What are we?" Dean opened his mouth and closed it again, you held your breath, anxious for his answer.

At last, he sat up and turned around to face you, cornering you at the edge of the couch, between him and the armrest "Can´t say i haven't thought about it, with my brain, mind you" you couldn´t help but to giggle a bit, letting go of some of the anxiety gnawing at you "I´ve never lied to you, every little flirty comment have been true, i really do like you" your eyes darted to his lips for a second.

"I- I like you too" you felt like a teenager with a crush, all warm and giddy, confused what to do with yourself "I really, really do, but our lives, not knowing what happens next, not-" you were cut off.

He scooched closer, propping his arm up on the back rest of the couch, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear "We´ll never know what´s gonna happen next, even in a normal life we wouldn´t" now it was his turn, letting his eyes rest of your lips for a moment "Question is, what do you want to happen next?" his eyes met yours again.

You didn´t even think about it "This" was all you said before your lips found his. It was slow, almost shy, until Dean cupped your face in his hands and deepened the kiss. It was still soft but more passionate, urgent.

The qlick of the lock on the door made you break away, sucking in air sharply. You shifted slightly just in time for Sam to open the door "Food delive-" he stopped in his tracks, giving you and Dean a funny look "Did I interrupt something?"

"Yes!" "No!" Dean and you exclaimed. Sam looked between the two of you and shook his head "I´ll just, uhm, I´ll just set the food up" he spun around awkwardly.

You looked at Dean, feeling like a deer in headlights "What now?" you whispered anxiously.

He looked at you for a moment, leaned forward and gave you one last kiss, letting his face stay close to yours "We table this for later`" he gave you a smirk and a wink as he licked his lips "All this touchy feely has made me starving" he joked and stood up, reaching his hand out the pull you up.

He pulled you up faster then you had expected, making you come crashing into his chest "But take out isn´t really what I´m hungry for" he smirked before turning a round, dragging you to the dinner table with a heat rising on you face and traveling elsewhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Am I back?? Who knows? Might disappear for a year again hah. But thank you for reading and I really do hope I get my writing motivation back cause it’s was fun<333

[bootsukki]

“Hey Reddit, an update”

aita series masterlist previous part

author's note: tysm for the incredible amount of notes, reblogs and likes the series has had. i'm completely amazed by it :D i would love to read your opinions on this! hope you enjoy this part! there is just one part left to the series and that makes me really sad but life goes on (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

this has 5k words!!!! sorry!

warnings: a bit of angst, fluff and SMUTTTTTTTTT (smut will start and finish after this: *****) so please, mdni!!! p.s.: haven’t written smut in ages so……….

The university was buzzing with the usual midday energy when Tsukishima stepped through the front doors. Multiple students were going in and out of the several buildings, ready to go home or get some lunch. Tsukishima fixed his tie, nervous. It was two days after their painful phone conversation and even though he didn't want to admit it, talking to Akiteru about everything made him more aware of (Y/N)'s feelings. He couldn't let things stay the way they were. He didn't want to lose the woman of his dreams just because he cannot deal with his plans and his nerves towards his future proposal.

Clutching the bento in his hand, he made his way through the education building. (Y/N) was in her last days of finishing the first draft of her book so she was likely to be at the small office Fujimoto-san, her mentor, had given her to work on it. The smell of (Y/N)'s favourite food wafted from the bento and, despite the knots in his stomach, he hoped this would be the first peace offering that would get them closer.

He had tried his best to get her to come home, texting her the previous day with little success, only receiving a yes/no answer to his texts. He had even tried contacting Yachi but the smaller girl was completely blinded by rage towards him ("Tsukishima, you're a fucking asshole and if you think I'll let you hurt my best friend, you're terribly wrong about it. I may be 5 feet tall but I know how to punch someone, especially tall guys like you.") He regretted his actions from that night, including the complete silence he gave her when she was just trying to get an explanation from him.

When he reached her office, Tsukishima took a deep breath, stopping at the doorway. He was nervous to even see her as she had been staying at Yachi’s, knowing she had been at home showering and taking clean clothes whenever he was at work thanks to the smell of her coconut shampoo and the missing socks from the pile of laundry he needed to get through. As he was about to knock on the door, a voice called his name and he turned.

"Fujimoto-san."

"I knew it was you, Tsukishima." Fujimoto-san was a 55-year-old university professor that had been (Y/N)'s professor during her first year. He had been with her through every stage of her university degree and he was the one to who proposed writing a book on second language methodologies to her and the one who accompanied her during her research in the US. Tsukishima was grateful that (Y/N) had found someone who was giving her the support she needed to get over the project, almost acting like a father figure towards (Y/N). "What are you doing here?"

"I was bringing (Y/N) some lunch."

"Oh! That's so nice of you, boy. She hasn't been out of the office for the whole day." Fujimoto knocked on the door and without even waiting for an answer, he opened the door.

(Y/N) was sitting at her desk, completely absorbed in her work, clicking the keys on the keyboard quickly as she wrote, brows furrowed in concentration.

"(Y/N)."

"Fujimoto-san, sorry, I haven't been able to find the document you asked me for." She looked up, surprise flashing across her face as she saw her boyfriend next to the professor before her expression hardened slightly. She wasn't expecting him here. "Kei."

"He brought you some food, isn't that great?"

(Y/N) gave her mentor a soft smile and stood up, getting close to them. With a smile, she reached for the bento on his hands.

"I just wanted to let you know that he's here. I'll leave you two lovebirds eat alone."

"Thank you, Fujimoto-san."

The man waved his hands, leaving the office and closing the door behind him.

"Kei," she said, her tone uncertain, guarded. "What are you doing here?"

Tsukishima shifted, feeling awkward. "I thought you might be hungry," he said, voice softer than usual. "And… I wanted to talk."

Her eyes flickered to the bento, then back to his face, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, and Tsukishima’s heart pounded in his chest, nervousness gnawing at him. What if she didn’t want to hear him out? What if she was done?

But finally, she sighed, gesturing for him to sit down.

Relief washed over him as he sat down on a chair. "It’s your favorite," he added quietly, watching her reaction.

(Y/N) looked at the food, then back at him. Her walls were still up, and he could feel the distance between them. But she was here. She was listening.

"Thanks," she muttered, but there was still tension in her voice. "But you didn’t have to bring me food just to say whatever you came to say."

"I know," Tsukishima said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "But I wanted to."

There was another long pause before (Y/N) sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I can’t talk right now, I have a meeting in 10.”

“Oh.” Tsukishima shifted on his feet, feeling the weight of rejection settle uncomfortably on his shoulders. “I didn’t know.”

(Y/N) sighed softly, the tension between them palpable even in her small office. “I really can’t talk right now,” she repeated, glancing over at her desk again. “But maybe… we could talk after work? At home?”

Her voice was quieter on that last part, as if she was extending a tentative olive branch. Tsukishima nodded immediately, relief washing over him despite the lingering tension. “Yeah. Tonight, at home. We can talk then.”

She nodded, and for a moment, their eyes met—there was something fragile in her gaze. It made his chest ache. “Okay,” she whispered, opening the bento. “Thank you for the food.”

He didn’t press her further, didn’t try to fix everything in that moment. Instead, he turned to leave, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they’d be able to find their way back to each other that night.

*****

Later that evening, Tsukishima sat on the couch, waiting, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his knee as he tried to calm his nerves. His mind was racing, replaying everything that had happened between them—how distant he had become, how his silence had hurt her more than he’d realized.

When (Y/N) finally walked through the door, she looked drained from the long day. She dropped her bag by the door and glanced over at him, offering a small wave.

“Hi,” she said softly, as if unsure of how to start.

“Hey,” he replied, standing up awkwardly. “You want to sit down?”

She nodded, walking over to the couch and sitting down next to him, but there was still a noticeable gap between them. The air between them felt heavy, weighted down by everything they hadn’t said.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched on, thick with tension and uncertainty, and Tsukishima felt the guilt gnawing at him. He hated how far apart they felt, how much he had hurt her without meaning to.

Finally, (Y/N) took a deep breath, her voice small and shaky when she spoke. “Kei, I… I don’t even know where to begin.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tight. “I know,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I’ve been terrible about all of this. I’ve shut you out, and I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you. I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, looking down at her lap. “It’s not just that you shut me out, Kei. It’s everything… You’ve been staying late, coming home at random hours, and… Mia—”

Her voice broke slightly as she said the name, and Tsukishima’s heart sank.

“You obviously don't notice but I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” she continued, her words trembling. “I've noticed since that time you were out with your coworkers and I had to give you your keys and from that moment, she’s always around, and I just—I couldn’t help but think that maybe you were spending time with her. Maybe… maybe you were choosing her over me.”

Her voice cracked, and she quickly wiped away a tear that slipped down her cheek, trying to maintain her composure. But Tsukishima could see how much this had been eating at her, festering under the surface.

“I felt so stupid for thinking that,” she whispered, her shoulders shaking slightly. “But I couldn’t help it. Every time you were late, every time you didn’t answer my texts… I thought maybe I was losing you to her.”

Tsukishima’s chest tightened painfully as he listened to her. The thought that she had been feeling like this—feeling jealous, insecure, like she wasn’t enough—it tore him apart inside. He had completely ignored her, left her on the dark on everything and his words from two nights before were eating him alive, seeing her like that. He had been so focused on keeping the surprise, on managing everything on his own, that he hadn’t even seen how much he was hurting her.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with regret. He reached out, gently taking her trembling hands in his. “Mia means nothing to me. I don’t even notice her like that. She’s just a coworker. You... You’re the one I love. You’re the only one I want.”

Her lip quivered, and more tears fell from her eyes. She looked away, trying to compose herself, but the pain was too raw, too fresh. “But you...” she whispered. “You never told me what was going on, so I didn’t know… I didn’t know what to think. All those nights at the museum or with the computer here at home... I don't know, I felt so...”

Tsukishima squeezed her hands gently, his heart aching. “I should have told you sooner,” he admitted, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to make you doubt yourself or us. I was just… trying to plan something special for us. That’s why I’ve been working late. I’ve been trying to get everything ready for our anniversary. I've been looking for the best place where we can relax and I've been trying to get days off by just... overworking, I guess.”

She looked up at him through her tears. “Our anniversary?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his voice soft. “I’ve been planning a trip. Just the two of us. I wanted it to be a surprise, but in trying to keep it secret, I ended up shutting you out. I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t enough. I'm the worst at these things. I hate surprises.”

(Y/N) blinked, more tears falling, but this time there was a flicker of relief in her expression. “You were doing all that for us?”

“I was,” he said, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “But that doesn’t excuse how I handled it. You shouldn’t have had to worry about Mia or think that I didn’t care. I should’ve been open with you, told you what was going on, not leaving you like nothing was happening. I was a complete asshole with you.”

Her shoulders trembled, and she let out a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes. “I felt so stupid, Kei,” she whispered. “I felt like I wasn’t good enough for you, like I was… like I was losing you to her.”

Tsukishima’s heart clenched, and without another word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “You’re not losing me,” he murmured into her hair, his voice soft but firm. “You’re never going to lose me. She isn’t even a thought in my mind. You’re the one I want, Y/N. You’ve always been the one.”

Her hands gripped his shirt tightly, and she sobbed quietly into his chest, letting out all the emotions she had been holding in. Tsukishima held her close, his hand gently stroking her back.

After a few moments, she pulled back slightly, her face streaked with tears. “I don’t want to feel like this again,” she whispered, her voice broken. “I don’t want to keep thinking I’m not enough for you.”

“You are enough,” he said firmly, cupping her face in his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. “You’re more than enough. I’m sorry I made you doubt that. I’ll do better. I promise I’ll be honest with you from now on. We’ll talk about everything—no more shutting each other out.”

She sniffled, her fingers curling around his wrist, holding onto him like he was her anchor. “I just want to feel like I matter to you, Kei.”

“You do,” he whispered, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. “You matter more than anyone. I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I’m sorry I didn’t show that enough. I’ll do better. You are my everything. I won't hurt you like this again.”

She nodded, tears still clinging to her lashes, but the weight between them seemed to lift, just a little. “We’ll figure this out,” she whispered. “Together. I also need to communicate my feelings better."

Tsukishima leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment before moving onto her lips, kissing them for just a second. “Together,” he echoed, his heart swelling as he held her close.

"We really suck at this sometimes," she muttered.

"Yeah, we do."

They both laughed softly, still holding each other tight.

*****

(OP) tsuk113_:

Hey Reddit, an update.

Seems like we just needed to have a long and conversation between us. I took your comments and advice from friends to heart and explained everything to her. I told her about the surprise trip (but not about me proposing on that trip, surprise, I guess) and everything has gone well. WE are working on our problems and I promised her to be better. I need to be better for her because she is truly the best thing that has happened to me.

Anyway, trip is just a few days away and I'm actually nervous about proposing but, I hope it goes right.

*****

The drive up the mountains had been long, winding through dense forests and past breathtaking views, but the destination was worth it. Tsukishima had booked a secluded cabin that sat high up, surrounded by towering trees and overlooking a serene, glassy lake. The autumn air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and earth, and the sky above was a brilliant expanse of deep blue. It was the kind of place that felt untouched by time, peaceful, and far removed from the hectic pace of their daily lives.

(Y/N) had been in better spirits since their talk. Tsukishima had worked hard to open up to her, to let her in on how overwhelmed he had been. And while she didn’t know the full reason for the trip, she had let herself hope that this weekend away was his way of making things right between them and celebrate their anniversary as well.

After they had settled into the cabin and left their small suitcases by the beautiful bedroom that had amazing views to the lake, (Y/N) found herself touring the place as Tsukishima started to cook them dinner, standing by the long railing at the balcony, appreciating the views and fresh air, the view of the mountains and lake calming her completely. She smiled softly as she took it all in, admiring the leaves on the trees and their vivid shades of gold, red and orange, making the entire scene look like something out of a painting.

Tsukishima had been looking at her from his place at the kitchen, the weight of the ring in his pocket settling in, waiting for the right moment.

As the sun began to set, casting the sky in shades of pink and lavender, Tsukishima suggested they take a walk before they have some dinner.

Taking their coats and putting on more comfortable shoes, they stepped outside into the cool evening air, the path they followed covered in fallen leaves that crunched beneath their boots. (Y/N) held her boyfriend's hand, leaning against him as they walked in comfortable silence. He had found the perfect place to relax and she was grateful for it. (Y/N) breathed deeply, feeling the tension of the last few weeks melting away in the serenity of the surroundings.

As they reached the lake, (Y/N) walked away from Tsukishima, leaning towards it, looking at the sky. "This place is amazing," she said, voice soft as she looked at the lake glimmering under the fading sunlight. "If this were a movie, we would see a proposal right now."

Tsukishima's heart skipped a beat as his hand made his way towards his front pocket.

"Is that so?"

(Y/N) laughed, completely unaware of the scene that was about to happen behind her. "I think we are the only people here, though, but..." She streched her arms out to the horizon. "Wouldn't that be something?"

When she turned back around to make another playful comment, the words died on her lips.

Tsukishima was no longer standing behind her. Instead, he was down on one knee, his tall frame somehow looking both awkward and incredibly graceful at the same time. In his hand was a small velvet box, the lid open to reveal a delicate, sparkling ring.

(Y/N)’s heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat, her hands flying to her mouth as she stared at him in disbelief.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Tsukishima, for all his careful planning, looked almost… shy. His usual sharp gaze softened as he looked up at her, the words he had rehearsed for weeks suddenly feeling far more significant now that she was standing there, her eyes wide and her lips trembling in surprise.

“(Y/N),” he began, his voice low and steady, though his heart was racing in his chest. “I’ve never been good at showing how much you mean to me. I know I’ve messed up, more than once… but you’ve been with me through it all. And I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else. These 5 years with you as my girlfriend have been the best years of my life. You have taken care of me, loved me and I can't be more grateful that you are mine.”

(Y/N) was already tearing up, her hand still covering her mouth as she let out a soft, breathless laugh.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” Tsukishima continued, his voice just a little quieter now, as if speaking the words made him feel vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. “I want us to have forever. So… will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The only sounds were the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze and the soft murmur of the lake below. (Y/N) stared down at Tsukishima, her heart pounding so loudly she could barely hear anything else. (Y/N) got on her knees, looking at Tsukishima, the man in front of her blushing.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice cracking with emotion. “Yes, of course!”

Tsukishima let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his lips pulling into a rare, genuine smile. He, carefully, took the ring away from the box, slipping the ring onto her finger with careful precision, as though it was the most important thing he’d ever done. Once the ring was in place, he cupped her face in his hands, leaning down to press his lips against hers.

(Y/N) closed the distance between them, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him, the taste of salty tears on her lips from the emotions spilling over. In that moment, it felt like everything had fallen into place.

When they finally pulled away, (Y/N) laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I just joked about you proposing.”

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Timing is everything.”

She laughed again, glancing down at the ring on her finger. It had a parti sapphire as a centerpiece, a gem with a blend of rich forest green and subtle blue hues. The sapphire, in an oval shape, was set in a delicate gold band surrounded by what it seemed like small diamonds. It was, elegant and perfect—just like him, in his own way.

“Wow, Kei... It is beautiful... I can’t believe you managed to keep this a secret,” she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “You, the guy who hates surprises.”

Tsukishima shrugged, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. “I figured you were worth making an exception for. To be honest, I thought you were going to find the ring at home.”

"What!?" (Y/N) gasped. "Where was it?"

"I know you hate grocery shopping so I hid the box between the bags I take shopping."

(Y/N) laughed, her heart swelling with so much love she thought it might burst. She reached up to brush a stray piece of hair out of his eyes, her thumb tracing the familiar curve of his jaw.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice full of everything she felt but couldn’t quite put into words.

Tsukishima’s eyes softened, and for once, he didn’t feel the need to hold back. “I love you too.”

Their lips met in a kiss that was soft, sweet, and filled with everything unsaid. It wasn’t hurried or desperate—it was gentle, almost reverent. Her hands slid up to cup his face, his glasses cool under her fingertips as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss just a little. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and forever, a merging of relief, joy, and love so deep it made their heart ache in the best way possible.

Tsukishima’s hands tightened around her, pulling her flush against him, and for once, he let himself be completely open, pouring all the love he had into that single kiss. As they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them smiling breathlessly, the world quiet except for the pounding of their hearts in sync.

*****

(Y/N) hugs Tsukishima from behind, enjoying the warmth of his body as he washes the dishes of their dinner. Tsukishima can't help the smile on his lips as his eyes glance down to her ring, sparkling under the lights of the kitchen. For a moment, he is grateful about the lack of signal of their phones because for once, (Y/N) is not checking her emails constantly (seriously, Tsukishima reckons she has a Gmail addiction) and secondly, because she's been teasing him all night, running her fingers, especially her ring finger, through his arm, chest and neck, kissing him slowly, running her tongue over his lips, well, teasing him more and more as the night went on.

Tsukishima dried his hands and turned around, pulling (Y/N) flush against his chest, cupping her face as he slowly leans down to brush their lips together, hands around her hips, massaging the eposed skin between her sweatshirt and her soft pajama bottoms. Without a second though, (Y/N) pulls away, taking his arm, leading him upstairs. As soon as she reaches the bedroom door, she opens it, pulling Tsukishima by his T-shirt to get him inside.

As their kisses grow deeper which every passing second, the man quickly takes off his glasses and T-shirt, leaving them at one of the bedsides tables before running his hands through (Y/N)'s body, undressing her slowly. First, her sweatshirt, leaving her bare from the waist up.

"God, you're so beautiful."

(Y/N) blushes but doesn't waste a second and takes off her pajama bottoms and underwear, pushing them aside with her foot before siting down at the end of the bed and spreading her legs.

Tsukishima can't help it and his eyes slowly make their way towards her most intimate part and he slowly, gets down on one knee and grabs her leg, kissing her leg and inner thigh, before, after what it seem like an incredible amount of time, delving in like a starved man.

Tsukishima lifted one of (Y/N)'s legs up, placing it atop of his shoulder as he parted her lower lips and started to lap his tongue in her.

He moans out, the vibrations of it sending a shiver all over (Y/N)'s body as she cries out his name, hands making its way towards his blonde hair.

Her breath hitches when Tsukishima makes a slurping sound as if he was tasting the most delicious meal in the world.

Tsukishima, eyes closed at the taste of his fiancée, cups her heat, one of his long fingers pressing against her walls.

"Oh, Kei..." (Y/N) opens her mouth, a loud moan leaving her throat, chest heaving. "Right there, baby. Jesus...."

"Right there, pretty?"

"Uh-huh, please! God, yes."

The combination of his mouth and fingers curling inside her shocks her with a wave of pleasure and she pulls on his hair, a gasp leaving his lips as he looks up at her. He can't believe it. He can't believe that the beautiful woman in front of him, so overcome with plasure, is his, forever. Tsukishima smirks, adding another finger as (Y/N) glances down to look at him as her body goes still, climaxing in a long and wonderful orgasm, moaning a mixture of what it seemed like Tsukishima’s name and several curse words.

Tsukishima looks at her once again, soflty massaging her thigh for a few seconds, letting her relax a little bit before rising to his feet and pushing her into the mattress, laying on top of her as her arms make their way around his neck.

From then, (Y/N) slowly reaches to take off his sweat pants, the sight of him that hard making her mouth water, still feeling a bit hazy from her orgasm. Teasing, she fondles with him for just a few seconds, hand slowly inside his boxers, touching him. Her hand moves up and down as she keeps her eyes on him, Tsukishima's eyes closing due to the feeling of her soft hand and the coldness of her new ring on him.

"I love you."

Tsukishima nearly comes at the sound of that and he inhales sharply, smiling. He can feel her everywhere, her hand moving the way he likes it, her lips moving and kissing along his jaw, neck and lips, the sight of her bare pussy... God, he is in heaven.

She pushes his boxers down, straddling his lap as she slaps his throbbing tip on her clit a few times before alinging it with her entrance, slowly making her way down, the sound of his name leaving her mouth as he fills her up.

"Fuck..." Tsukishima bites his lip as (Y/N) slowly moves her hips slowly, splaying her hands on his chest as she moved up and down, an animalistic look in her eyes as she watches him whimper. Without thinking, she grabs two of his fingers and places them inside her mouth, biting and licking them.

"Jesus, fuck."

"Tell me... Tell me what you want, pretty boy."

"You... So bad."

(Y/N) smiles, leaning down to kiss him slowly, the eye contact between them so suffocating that Tsukishima feels like he is going to explode. The feeling of her body on top, the pressure and warmth of her walls. It's too much. Tsukishima doesn't let her move and he cups her cheeks, sucking on her tongue as they both sigh in pleasure.

"Baby..." Tsukishima grabs her breast. "You're so pretty. You're so pretty when you fuck me."

(Y/N) pants, laughing and her hand wraps itself about his throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Yeah?"

He nods, biting his lip.

"You're mine, Kei." (Y/N) hisses, bouncing on top of him with more strength. She was close, so, so so close. "You're mine forever."

"Forever."

(Y/N)'s back arches for just a second and Tsukishima notices her movements are getting sloppy and without even thinking about it, she grabs her by the waist and rocks their hips together, thrusting into her at an alarming pace, bed shaking a bit due to their movements.

"Oh, fuck!" (Y/N) moans, her hands touching his chest, reaching for his shoulder. "Like that, baby. I'm so..."

"I know, me too."

(Y/N) leans down to tug on his earlobes wit her teeth as she growls something not even him can't understand. Tsukishima quivers at the feeling of his cock reaching even deeper and for a moment, he feels like he is seeing stars.

"I'm going to cum, Kei!" Please, please, keep going!"

"Cum with me, baby. Cum with me." His voice becomes deeper as he feels his own orgasm approach him, looking at (Y/N), who had her face on his shoulder, sweat running through her forehead. Tsukishima kisses her slowly, hands moving her hair out of her face. "Fuck, (Y/N), where do you want it?"

"Inside, please." (Y/N) begs, her lips still brushing his. "Please, baby. I need it so bad."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, yes!"

Tsukishima's cock twitches inside of (Y/N), gasps leaving his mouth as he cums inside of her. They both jerk, the feeling of their orgams making them feel dizzy and light-headed.

"Fuck."

"Yeah..."

"That was..."

"So fucking good."

(Y/N) laughs as Tsukishima kisses her cheeks repeatedly, lips swollen from all their kissing.

"If I knew we were gonna fuck this good after proposing, I would have done it at 18."

"Kei!"

Tsukishima laughs loudly and (Y/N) melts, the sight of him like this... So happy and perfect... She hums, hiding her face on his neck for just a second.

"I love you so much."

"Me too."

"No. I don't think you understand." Tsukishima adds. "You really taught me what is like to love and even though I may not be perfect at it, I promise I will love you every single day of my life and even after death."

"Kei..."

"You are my everything, you know that, right?"

"You can't say things like that!"

"Why?"

"Because..." (Y/N) blushes, placing her hands on her face and getting up from the bed. "Because! I'm going to take a shower."

Tsukishima laughs, looking at her as she walks towards the bathroom door, biting his lip.

"Don't look at me like that and come shower with me."

"Yes, (Y/N) Tsukishima."

"Shut up!"

*****

(OP) tsuk113_:

I'M GETTING MARRIED FUCK YES

User 1:

Congratulations! After 20 years of being married, let me give you a piece of adivce: listen to each other. Enjoy the little moments together. I am sure your love is pure.

taglist: @lavanderdreamve @lizzymizzy-blogg @quilyzayaki @uhnanix

[kierahn]

yandere police officer x wanted criminal male reader :D?

A GAME OF TAG. [ y ! police officer x m ! criminal reader ]

yandere ! police officer x criminal ! male reader

warnings:

suggestive content (16+)

agressive handling from yan! officer

request/ask here.

a rushed update since i haven't posted in a while :] i have a long weekend ahead, i might be able to catch up with writing some of the piled up requests in my inbox.

× silas cromwell. it was a known fact to everyone in town that he and you were long-term rivals; like the two opposing sides of a coin. you were his favorite criminal. but you ? you didn't really like him that much; all snugged and smug in his police uniform. you were not one to get along with his kind too well.

× this game of cat and mouse between you and silas had been going on for about 2 years now. the young officer would always find himself facing a dead end everytime he tried to uncover your real identity. it was a pain in the ass for silas to chase someone he didn't know much about around.

× it was a frustratingly long chase, but silas would always find himself grinning at the thought of emerging as the victor of this game of chase you had started. little by little, his obssession with you grew.

× and, finally, he claimed sweet victory. what was more sweeter than having the most notorious mastermind himself in his grasp ? after 2 years of restlessly pursuing you, he finally had you on the tip of his fingers.

× "so what do you intend to do now, dear officer ?" the criminal asks smugly, his hands cuffed behind him and a blindfold taking away his vision as he sat on his knees before the officer. a delicious sight for silas to take in. "hand me over to the 'authorities' ? let their so-called justice deal with me ? tell me," you continued to prod him for answers, your smug smile never fading. oh, how he would love to break through that confident facade of yours.

× "i believe you don't fully understand, y/n." silas draws out after snapping out of his thoughts, standing before your kneeled form. a cold hand placed itself under your chin, sending a shiver up your spine. "i'm the authority. i'll be the one delivering justice." his voice dropped to a hauntingly low tone, holding a hint of threat that made something inside of you click.

× all this time, you've been the one in charge of leading the chase between you two; the one who was always on top of the game you yourself started. but now silas had taken the control out of your hands.

× "it seems like you're finally starting to realize," silas' voice started to move around you, your lack of sight heightening your sense of hearing. "GH–!" a harsh blow to your stomach causes you to slouch over in pain, a pained groan escaping your lips.

× you violently coughed, the harsh kick causing your breath to stop for a second. you pant heavily, drool spilling from your lips. for a flimsy officer like him, silas really knew how to use his feet to make it hurt. "that was very foul move, officer–" a cough, then a mocking laugh. "kicking down a defenseless opponent is completely unnecessary."

× a tug to your hair and a large hand encasing your cheeks tightly into a bruising grip. your laid-back attitude was starting to get on his nerves. why weren't you cowering in fear before him like he had expected ? you weren't taking him seriously at all.

× "y/n l/n, you have some nerve." you could sense that silas was very, very close to you with how his hot breath kissed the tip of your nose. however, you remained unfazed. you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you all vulnerable.

× but he would get his satisfaction either way. he always gets his way. "maybe we can find a better use for that pretty mouth of yours." his grip on your cheeks slightly loosened, his thumb glazing over your lower lip.

× "consider this my reward for winning this childish game of tag."

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Am I Acting Weird?

Walking home, I just can't shake the feeling that something is off, but I can't figure out what! I asked Coach about it before leaving practice, but he just laughed. He said I was weird not to appreciate the effort I've put into football lately.

He's right. I've been busting my ass, but that's exactly what I'm talking about!

I've never given a damn about improving my rank or even showing up to conditioning! I just wanted to hang out with my buds and mess around with the cheerleaders.

But now, it's like none of that matters! I've skipped the last three parties to bulk up at the gym! I haven't been able to drink anything other than protein shakes, and my meals are always loaded with meat. It's like I can't control myself anymore! Why can't I just take a night off and drink beers with the rest of the boys?

I let out a long groan of frustration and trudge upstairs. My younger sibling Max laying on the couch while the TV blares his favorite show.

Max is the weird one! He's like 18, and all he does is play videogames and sit around all day.

I quickly strip off my sweaty football uniform and toss it into the corner of my bedroom. My muscles are already tired and aching from yesterday's practice, so I can't imagine how sore I'll be feeling when I wake up for tomorrow's early morning workout; something I only recently started doing everyday.

Like every other night, I pull my usual at-home clothes on; a stiff white shirt, black apron, and bowtie. This outfit might seem weird, but it feels nice, especially when I tie everything up extra tight. Max showed me how. Sure, it's not comfortable at all, and I look like a waiter more than anything, but that doesn't bother me.

My little brother is annoying as hell, but he's usually right. Me and dad used to tease him all the time, but we've come around since then.

Now that I'm finally at home and suited up, I can feel my shoulders relax. Whatever was bothering me before can wait. I pull some shiny black shoes on, slip a pair of white gloves over my hands, and carefully step back downstairs. It's important that I make as little noise as possible when I'm home. I wouldn't want to disturb anybody.

"Hey, big bro," Max calls from the couch, "Your home."

"Yes, Max," I answer, taking my usual position next to the couch.

This is where I stand when I'm in the living room anymore. It's just where I feel most comfortable, and it's right next to a little cart of useful supplies. I grab a towel and sling it over my shoulder. It's always a good idea to have one on me when I'm at home. Never know when I'm going to need it.

"My shoes could use a polish while we chat," Max adds, flipping through the channels.

"You got it, Max."

See, the towel does come in handy. I quickly fetch a container of shoe polish on my little cart and kneel by his feet. I've been polishing Max's shoes for a few weeks now, so I've gotten pretty good at it. He doesn't really appreciate the art of it, but I guess it's just something that I'm into.

"How's football? You the best player yet?" Max asks nonchalantly from above.

"No, Max. I've gotten a lot bigger lately, but the quarterback is still a lot more muscular and skilled."

He rolls his eyes and adds, "Give it time I guess. You're going to keep at it until your a professional player like the ones on TV."

I stop buffing his sneaker for a second and glance up at him. His attention is now completely fixated on an NFL videogame.

"Max, that's just it," I admit, "Lately I've been working out and bulking up like I'm some pro-athlete, but I'm not. I don't think I even want to be! That life just seems so grueling."

Max pauses his game and looks down at me solemnly.

I avert my gaze and add, "It's just weird that lately I've put so much work into something I don't want."

"You think that's weird?" he dryly raises an eyebrow.

I just shake my head and turn my attention back to my brother's sneaker. It's going to need a lot more polish before it shines.

The door opens and our father arrives home.

"Hey, boy," he dismissively calls when he sees me on the floor. Then he notices my brother lounging on the couch.

"Max," he says with a bit more emphasis, dipping his head a little.

"Dad, I'm really hungry right now, so could you get a move on with dinner?" Max answers.

"Of course, Max."

Our father immediately drops his keys and briefcase and shuffles into the kitchen. I've always admired him. He played football in college too, so we've always bonded over sports.

But lately, he only seems interested in his work. I rarely see him because he always stays late and picks up night shifts at the office. It's done wonders for his career, so I guess that's good. He's been given a few raises recently for all the extra effort he's put in, but I can tell it's taking a bit of a toll on the guy.

"Big bro, just look at Dad," Max explains to me, "He doesn't complain about anything being weird, does he? He just keeps his mouth shut and goes to work. Be more like him."

I don't speak as I switch to shining his other sneaker. Max is probably right. If Dad can power through long hours in the office to bring home a decent salary, then I can surely shut up and dedicate myself to a career in football.

It doesn't take long for our father to return to the living room.

"The food is almost ready, but here are some drinks while you wait, Max," he says.

Our dad seems minorly annoyed by the starched clothing he has on, but that suit is his typical home outfit. It looks even more stiff and uncomfortable than my get up, but I guess he's willing to put up with it.

Max stands before I can finish at his feet and grabs a glass from our father.

"Whoops, here you can finish them," he says after a swig of wine, kicking the shoes off in my direction, "And then take care of the laundry in my room."

"Sure thing, Max," I answer, but he's already turned his attention to dad.

"Is your wallet in your briefcase?" he asks, "I'm taking a few friends out tonight."

"It is, Max, and the car keys are next to it. The car is low on gas. Should I take it to a station before you go out?"

"Yeah," Max adds between sips, "Take care of that while I eat."

"Of course, Max."

"Oh, and Dad."

"Yes, Max?"

"Start making double portions for big bro's meals. He needs to bulk up faster if he's going to usurp the current quarterback."

I pretend not to hear, and finish up my work with Max's shoes. Maybe my new focus on football hasn't been that strange after all. It's not really the life I thought I'd be pursuing, but it's kind of nice being bigger and more athletic than I used to be. It's not really weird if I think about it. Maybe I can even get a few more reps in after I finish Max's laundry.

I hope he has a good time out with his friends tonight. It's weird, but I don't really know what else I'd spend my time doing.

[avatar-anna]

Bruises

"I feel so...hollow," you said, your voice breaking on the last word. "But—But like my feelings are so heavy they could drown me at the same time. I don't—I don't know when it started, but I can't remember how to be happy without waiting to be punished for it later."

Tears were tracking stains down your cheeks like small rivers, leaking out of your eyes faster than you could stop them. Not that you tried to, anyway, even that seemed exhausting. One thing you could do was avoid Harry's gaze. You felt it like a severe burn as he practically begged you to look at him, but you just couldn't. Not while you were so vulnerable. You felt stripped bare, even more so than the number of times the two of you had been intimate.

"Y/n—"

"Don't," you said, nearly leaping out of your skin when he rested a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him then, saw the pain in his eyes at your rejection of his touch. But you couldn't handle it. Your soul felt raw as you said things you never thought you would out loud. "Please don't, I can't—"

Harry seemed to understand as he nodded and took a step back, but the concerned furrow of his brow remained, his fingers curling awkwardly at his sides. He'd always been the type to communicate through touch—a squeeze on the shoulder, a tip of your chin, a gentle nose nudge on your cheek, a hand never far away from your person. You knew that he craved touch to comfort people, and yet he stayed put. For that you were thankful, and it helped you find your words again.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," you said, almost too quietly for anything but your thoughts to hear. "I—I don't know why I'm feeling like this, or how I got here, I—I just feel like I'm stuck in this emptiness."

Saying all of that made you want to run and hide. Harry didn't need to know all this, how wrecked you really were inside. No one did. He was just someone who happened to be around when you were at your worst. Normally you were able to keep a lid on your darkest thoughts, but he'd come over when you were in the thick of it, and you couldn't exactly hide how you felt when you were crying uncontrollably for virtually no reason other than it was a Tuesday afternoon and life suddenly felt like one big chore.

Maybe it was the holiday, seeing everyone so happy, hearing songs about falling in love and kissing under mistletoes and commercials that said, "The perfect gift for that someone special!" Being surrounded by so much cheer only left you feeling more hollowed out, more lost than you'd ever thought you'd become.

"Y/n, why—why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Like what?" you laughed bitterly. "That I cry at the drop of a hat and can't handle light teasing from my friends? That I haven't felt right for weeks and getting out of bed feels like a chore? We—That's not who we are to each other. I—I have no one."

The words clanged around, grasping onto your heartstrings and convincing you it was true. You had friends and family, but when the darkness reared its ugly head, you always felt hopelessly and inescapably alone. Words deserted you when you needed them most, leaving you to smile and pinch your skin, trying your best not to cry in line at the grocery store or while sitting at your desk at work. It was all too much, too much to handle, and yet you didn't want anyone else but you to share that load, the weight of your inexplicable despair.

"Do you honestly think that?" Harry asked. You couldn't even dignify him with an answer. It had been humiliating to say it once, let alone look him in the eye and say it again. So you just shrugged and wiped your cheek. "You're my friend, Y/n, and I care about you. I'm sorry if I haven't done enough to make you know that."

"It's not just you, H," you sniffled, feeling bad for making Harry uncomfortable. It wasn't his job to make you feel better. Your problems were yours to bear alone. They always had been. "I don't—I don't know how to do this."

"Do what, love?"

Despite the discomfort of having shared so much, Harry's gentle voice felt like a warm blanket over your shoulders. It made you finally look up to meet his eye. You were surprised to see so much emotion held in them, but you didn't shy away from it like you thought you would. It helped fill that hollow ache a little, made you feel a little less alone.

"I don't know how to deal with this any other way," you said, trying to explain. "I don't...I hate sharing this stuff with people. It makes my skin crawl."

Your body felt heavy, your soul weary, as if no amount of shed tears or leaning on shoulders would ever ebb the emptiness that was taking over you. But you didn't want the pity. You didn't want anyone to worry or look at you differently because of how sensitive you tended to be sometimes. To deal with the myriad of moods that swung on a pendulum day to day, sometimes moment to moment. The pressure of feeling like you should reach out and ask for help was almost worse than the emptiness and despair.

"This is a good start," Harry said, inching just a tiny bit closer. "I just don't want you to think you can't talk to me. You can, Y/n, and I'll listen, or give you space, or help you find professional help, or do whatever it takes to make you smile. Just let me be here for you."

The notion didn't sit well with you at first. It wasn't how you dealt with things, though clearly your methods weren't working. That didn't make letting Harry in any less scary, or any easier. But Harry was still here. You'd broken down, shared just how broken you really were, and he was still here, asking to be someone for you to confide in.

Harry had been your friend for a long time. You ran in the same circles and saw each other often enough that you'd consider him to be someone you were close to. It wasn't until your arrangement that you got to know him more. You'd never had a friends with benefits situation before, but you never imagined it to be so easy. Rules had been sketched out, boundaries were made and kept, and things between you just seemed to work. Even when you didn't see each other for a week or two at a time, there was no awkwardness.

There was no jealousy at parties or possessiveness; you were exclusive, but okay with the idea of ending things should either of you meet someone you wanted to explore a relationship with. You and Harry just clicked—two friends who happened to sleep with each other, companions who could hold conversations about their jobs amicably, yet knew every inch of each other's bodies intimately. And now Harry was offering something more, something different.

Nodding, you said, "Thank you."

Harry gave you a small grin, then tentatively reached a hand out to wipe away a stray tear. You let him, not feeling like a startled animal anymore. You knew part of you should've felt embarrassed that Harry had caught you in such a state, that you'd let him see how broken and hurting you were on the inside, and maybe a small part of you did, but you mostly just felt like a weight had lifted off your chest.

"Can I get you anything? Maybe a cup of tea?" he asked, leading you over to your kitchen counter as if it was his home, not yours.

You let him, content to watch him move around your kitchen as if it was his own. He'd been over to your place enough times to know his way around and know how you took your tea.

Sitting in silence, you watched as Harry took a mug that looked like a gingerbread man and one that had a textured, cable-knit sweater design from your cabinet and fixed up two cups of tea. His shoulders flexed beneath his loose shirt, dark brown curls curving every which way at the nape of his neck. The familiarity of this moment was comforting after such an emotionally taxing and foreign afternoon. Harry was here as often as your busy schedules would allow, or you were at his place, neither of you concerned with how much time you spent together.

Though today you hadn't expecting to see him, hence the emotional breakdown. You didn't really plan those kinds of things, but you'd been feeling more down than usual and had been seeing Harry less and less recently as a result. Every text about a next meet-up, whether that was to get lunch or have sex or anything in between, had been rebuffed quickly and kindly. Today he'd shown up out of the blue.

"H?"

"Yeah?" he said, his back still to you.

"Why did you come over today? Y—You didn't text like you normally do."

Harry looked over his shoulder briefly, a small smile playing at his lips. "We hadn't seen each other in a while," he said breezily. "Which is fine, I know we're both busy, but I just had this distinct feeling you were avoiding me."

"I'm sorry," you said, finding it easier to say it when his back was to you. "I don't mean to do that."

"I know," Harry said, that same gentle and easy tone in his voice. "I've always known you're squirrelly about feelings."

You huffed at his choice of words, trying to focus on his humor rather than the fact that he seemed to know you better than you thought he did. You appreciated that he didn't state the obvious, which was that you went way past "squirrelly." The last hour had been emotionally taxing, and you appreciated that Harry offered you a modicum of normalcy.

"Thank you for checking up on me," you said. "You're a good friend, H."

Perhaps better than I deserve, was what you didn't say, because you knew he would scold you for even thinking it.

"Well, my visit wasn't totally innocent," Harry teased as he finally came over with two steaming mugs of tea, yours done just right. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, but didn't say anything more than that.

Raising your brows, you said, "Ah. You couldn't find anyone to watch Hallmark Christmas movies with you, could you?"

Harry chuckled into his mug, taking the excuse you both knew was a lie and ran with it. "Yeah, that's exactly it. I knew you'd understand."

"I wouldn't say to no a cheesy Christmas movie."

"Promise me you'll tell me when you're feeling like this again," Harry said a while later.

You could tell Harry was trying to hide his eagerness to pull you into your room and fire up your TV. His eyes scanned over you briefly, as if he was trying to assess where you were at mentally. It would be hard to see that stare, to know Harry had seen you at your lowest and would constantly be gauging if you were on the verge of another breakdown. But the thought didn't irritate you the way you thought it would. You were surprised to feel a little relieved that you weren't the only one taking care of you, at least for the time being.

You were huddled under a mountain of blankets together. Twinkly lights in your bedroom casting a warm light over you both. You'd meant to put them up earlier in the month, but hadn't made yourself get around to it, the small task falling to the wayside the same way a lot of your everyday chores did. Harry took one look at the forgotten box of lights and got to work, even going as far as putting a looped video of a roaring fireplace in his phone and setting it up next to your television. It was a little silly, and a tad over the top, but you appreciated it all the same, the lengths he was going to ease the ache in your chest as best he could.

He was practically on top of you now, but unlike the events of today, that was something you were used to. Harry liked to sprawl out, specifically with you underneath him—leg over your waist, arm tucked across you to keep you close, face buried in your neck or chin resting on top of your head. He insisted on draping himself over you like a blanket, even before you started sleeping together.

"I don't want to bother you—"

"Bother me, Y/n," Harry said, his voice gravelly as he gently turned your face to meet his gaze. "I'm not doing my job as your friend if I'm only with you when things are easy or—or good. You're not alone, okay? As long as I'm in your life, I'm in it. Good and bad."

"I'll try."

You tried to blink back tears, a little surprised you had any left to shed. Your face was undeniably puffy and a little dry, and you were tired in a different way than you had been the last few weeks. But these were different tears from earlier. A different emotion took over you as you nodded.

That seemed to satisfy Harry. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes against it, allowing yourself to believe everything he'd said to you today.

You weren't magically fixed, that crushing weight was still waiting for you like a monster under your bed, but you weren't alone. Harry had turned the lights on, showing you that perhaps there was no shame in letting someone see the worst parts of you. Because he was still there, promising to hold your hand and help you until you felt whole again.

[nthspecialll]

pleasee could you yap about dutch and tilly because im sad they had zero interactions even though he saved her and brought her into the gang🙏🙏

I have had a few requests like this and I have gathered all the thoughts, but haven't been able to write them out, but let's try again🥲 And I will also try to make a full post about Tilly and the gang.

Right, so, while it is easy to find out what Tilly thinks of Dutch, figuring out what Dutch thinks about Tilly is hard due to the fact that they have no camp interactions nor does he even talk about her, but that in itself is a cue, however let's return to that later.

Tilly views Dutch as a father figure of a sort. At some point after the age of twelve Dutch found Tilly after having escaped the Foreman brothers, she was described as "the sweetest little thing we ever saw that melted even the coldest of hearts", so we can presume that she was at least still in her early teen years.

In a camp interaction we can hear Tilly talk about how Dutch brought her in, raised her, taught her to read and so on and so forth. She is grateful for this and she really trusts her, even in chapter 6 she is loyal to him, even though she is scared for her life and wonders what will happen, she does support Dutch and she justifies Molly's murder.

However, I think something interesting happened. Tilly is "part of the core gang" if you will, she is part of the main family of Dutch, Hosea, John and Arthur, or she would have been had she been a man. She does not do jobs like the boys, she doesn't do scams or similar things on a larger scale, she is a woman and she is tending to camp. It is similar to how Susan is part of the family but also often left out.

If she had been a boy, Dutch would have had a use for her, he could have taught her to be a master thief like John and Arthur, he could have had another blank canvas to make art from, but she isn't, she is a woman and thus she is kind of just put to the side, her job is chores and there isn't much more to that, it makes her uninteresting to him because he can't use her, she is just there doing the preperations needed for him to go work and he can't be bothered to think about it.

When she was young, when he brought her in, while Dutch was generally in a different state of mind we can still think of why he did what he did, and I think it was status and adventure. When he brought her in there was some adventure in it, something new and exciting, maybe even a challenge, not to mention he would know that he needed someone to mend their clothing and fix their socks and a girl who could do that and rob when times got tough was a good deal.

On a similar note, saving Tilly is a status, it shows him being kindhearted, while he is actually just helping himself and it also gives him a form of bragging rights because other gangs like Colm doesn't do it, yet he does.

All of that said, once the excitment of Tilly being a fancy new toy ran out, he discarded of her in the way he threw her over to Susan and moved along.

Tilly isn't just forgotten as a daughter by us, but also by her father himself.

Thank you for the ask! Hope it answers it and sorry tha I haven't been able to asnwer it before :,D

[yuri-is-online]

hi, there! :D I hope to be on time for the event can I request :

(Finding a confession letter in your locker) With Silver, Jade and Deuce? Plz

22. Finding a confession letter in your locker

Hi hi you are very much on time of course you can （＾ワ＾）

Also just letting you know here, I did get your other request and do not mind answering it at all (though i am going to post some other ones first), in my og post I mentioned the prompts were limited by ask, so you submitted everything correctly, don't worry!

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, fluff, Jade is a red flag as usual. Check out the rest of the event requests here.

Silver

There is an unfairly pretty looking man asleep in front of the gym lockers, face down, arms at his side, but with the light still hitting his hair just right way to make him look like he has a halo. You know that Silver won't be upset if you try to wake him, but as you kneel to do so, the slight creak of an unkempt hinge draws your attention up from your sleeping senior to your own slightly open locker.

Weird, you could have sworn you locked it at the end of class.

"Silver?" You decide to try calling out to him while you examine your locker for any sign of tampering beyond the obvious. "You good down there?" Nothing seems to have been taken, but something has been left: a letter. Gingerly, you remove and settle yourself on the floor next to Silver, gently shaking him as you open it.

Yuu,

I'm afraid that if I try to simply say to you how I feel, I won't be able to fully convey just how grateful I am to have met you, just how much you mean to me. But I want to try and give you a confession you deserve so please, meet me in the courtyard after your classes. I promise to say the words to you then.

-Silver

"I wasn't supposed to still be here when you read that." A muffled voice draws your attention back to Silver, who slowly pushes himself up to look into your eyes. "But since I am, I like you prefect." The words are simple, but the sincerity of his gaze adds the weight he was so afraid of missing.

Jade

You were screwed. The instant you saw the condition of the letter inside that lavender envelope you knew it was never meant to be seen, least of all by the person it was addressed to. The paper was hastily torn from a composition book, crumpled and lightly stained with what you assume from the scent is tea. No, you can't really picture someone as collected as Jade allowing the messy parts of his thoughts to be seen

You are a mystery I want to unravel

I never get tired of your voice

I want to be the first person they think of in the morning and the last thing they imagine at night. When they are alone I want them to long to return to my side, when someone hurts them I want to be the one who repays their enemies in kind. There is a word for these emotions, something that's as wonderfully unpredictable as it is painful-

A head rests on your shoulder, two strong arms pull you into an embrace that prevents you from seeing his face as a deep sigh tickles your ear, reciting from memory the destroyed portion of the letter-

"That word is love, I am in love with Yuu." Jade smiles into your neck as you shudder in surprise. "Since you are not attempting to run away, can I assume I have something of a chance?"

Deuce

"Is it just me or is Juice acting weird today?" Ace asks, slacking off away from Vargas's watchful eyes behind you and Grim. Not that you haven't noticed, but now that Ace mentions it- "I mean he's sneaking out of class, isn't PE the one he's actually good at?" You both look pointedly towards the lockers Deuce is not so sneakily heading towards with concern.

"Um, I'll be right back." You try to hide your concern but the judgmental faces that see you off suggest you aren't exactly successful. Deuce's broad shoulders disappear into the hallway and you attempt to calmly follow. Maybe he's sick? Or has forgot something? You run through so many scenarios that you fail to pay attention to where you are going and walk right into your target's back.

"Prefect!" Deuce jumps and you fluster, both of you look away from each other to the locker Duece had been standing in front of. "I'm sorry." He looks so embarrassed. You reach to open your locker as Deuce continues. "I really am sorry, it's just I thought really hard about the right way to confess but we have almost every class together..." Sure enough there's a letter sat neatly on top of your things, sealed with a neat spade sticker that leaves little doubt about who it's from.

"Technically you just did." You laugh and bring the letter close to your heart. "Meet me at Ramshackle after school."

"Why?" He asks, clearly nervous.

"Well you wanted to properly confess right? So let me properly answer." Technically the smile on your face already does.

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Vampire's Kiss | Chapter Four

Pairing | Vampire!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 5,6k

Warnings | +18, MC and Jungkook joke a lot, fluff and some sensuality (smut in the next chapter 🤧) but also angst, provocation and threat at work, one of MC's bosses doesn't seem like a very good person 💀 (JK where are you?)

⤷ Summary | Humans have finally unveiled and accepted the centuries-old existence of vampires, in a modern world people share their lives with these peculiar and mysterious creatures, but it is not all roses.

Will two souls belonging to such different species be able to be together?

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! 🥹❤️

I'm finally back with a new chapter of VK, if you've read my previous posts then you'll know that I'm really writing a lot of stories at the moment that I can't wait for you to read, so I hope you enjoy this chapter in the meantime ❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie @peterstarkchrishiddleston @reallygenerouskoala @btsuga-d @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal @velvet-stardust2002 @ke1k029 @kylafox09 @pantara @takemeaway5402 @jkslaugh97

Chapter List - Previous - Next

It has officially been two weeks since your acquaintance with Jungkook began and things are going well. You just need to find a way to communicate to your family that ... well, their firstborn is seriously considering marriage to a vampire. Not that they have the right to decide for you or anything, and you also know that your mother would support you in anything, but the real big hurdles to overcome answer to the names of Dad and Mirae.

They will not be happy with such news, your sister might even try to assassinate him at the first possible opportunity, you shudder at the very thought of such a thing, you hope that Jungkook's beauty will divert her from committing such actions.

You are just thinking of calling your mother when the phone starts ringing nonstop, you check the name on the display and a smile arises spontaneously.

<<To what do I owe the honor of this call, Mr. Jeon?>>.

You hear laughter on the other end of the line, <<Uhm...I don't know, maybe I have good news for my sweet little human?>>.

You blush at the last words, but decide to tease him a little, <<Mr. Jeon finally decided to date yours truly?>>.

It is not unusual for company managers to work overtime, but Jungkook is working far too much of it. You haven't seen him since that evening at the beach spent exchanging first kisses and promises, since which time his schedule has become so busy as to be intolerable, at least for you.

You hear a whine on the other end of the phone, much like the whine of a puppy.

<<I don't like this distance either.... Seokjin is busy with wedding preparations and has left everything to us, Jimin is getting more and more distracted and it's up to me to sort out the messes he makes, sorry, it's hellish days>> it's not hard for you to imagine why Jimin is so uncaring, with parents like his there's a lot to lose your mind.

<<All right, all right... it's just that I miss you>> you mumble shyly covering your face, even though you are in the copy room and there is no one there to watch you.

<<Don't say that... this is where the good stuff comes in, Jimin has made Jin aware of the situation your company is in, a meeting has been arranged and it is likely that we will meet there>>.

You widen your eyes, trying to suppress the shriek that almost escapes your mouth. Jimin really did his part! When you see him again, you will jump on his neck to crush him in a strong hug.

And then... Jungkook will see where you work. You will meet as colleagues and ... e... oh, dear. You imagine him in a suit and tie, it must be such a sexy sight to-.

<<I know what you're imagining>> he hums like a nightingale, making your heart flutter.

<<What? I'm not imagining anything at all>> you immediately get defensive, unable to control the tremor in your tone.

<<So you didn't just imagine me in a suit and tie, did you?>> but what the fuck-, <<And you didn't imagine our eyes meeting with longing, me taking you by the hand ... to lead you into the copy room in the throes of a sudden urge, locking the door behind us to be left alone, you and me, in the complete intimacy of darkness>> you stare around alarmed, but what the fuck-.

<<How did you know I was in the copy room?>>.

<<I didn't know, I just guessed, you're at work and yet there's too much silence in the air around you, plus that's where I'd have the time of my life with my work colleague slash wonderful girl>>.

He wants to kill you or what, exactly?! Then to say such things while you are clearly in working hours, where everyone could hear him talking like that... that guy is your pleasurable torture.

<<This wonderful girl might decide to close the phone in your face in case you don't stop saying such nonsense!>> you blurt out with burning ears, cautiously looking at the door.

<<You won't, if you like me at least a little, you won't>> he says with great conviction.

You rest your back against the wall.

<<I like you very much, Mr. Jeon>>.

You close your eyelids and in the darkness that greets you you see him, sitting behind his desk with the phone handset pressed to his ear, a grin plastered on those perpetually rosy lips, his big dark eyes scrolling across the screen of his company computer. In your fantasy he has the first buttons of his shirt open, his long, wavy hair instead pulled back, leaving on display that pristine forehead on which you would have left a million kisses.

<<I really like you too, Y/N>>.

You nod, that may be enough for the moment, <<I know, I just hope you won't make me wait too long>>.

<<So... shall we make it the day after tomorrow?>>.

What?

<<What? What, the day after tomorrow?>> you croak in panic, not understanding what he is referring to.

<<Our date, of course! I want to take you somewhere nice, I've neglected you too much>>.

You smile smugly, suddenly calming down, <<Wow, Jeon Jungkook... you're just the boy of my dreams>>.

<<I was born to be, baby... aish, I have to go now, Yoongi is silently yelling at me to end the call…>> you giggle confusedly, who the heck is Yoongi?

The two of you say an unceremonious goodbye, according to him Yoongi is already in danger of throwing up his breakfast and wants to prevent that from happening.

You take the long-made photocopies from the machine and start to open the door, when you lift your eyes to the figure behind it you immediately jump in fright.

“Yoongyu! Goodness, what are you doing there?” you ask with one hand pressed at heart level, he stares at you strangely with his thin eyes reproachfully.

“Are you dating Jeon Jungkook, Y/N? I hope you know what he is,” you sigh, printing a fake smile on your face.

“A vampire? Yes, I know what he is and I don't care.”

You try to go around him to go straight for your own way, but he holds you by the shoulder, your heart churning anxiously as you cast a glance at his hand in amazement. What on earth is he doing?

Firmly you shrug him off, casting him a warning glance.

“I don't know what your problem is, but you have no right to put your hands on me like that, I hope this never happens again” your mind is stuck on what to do and not to do, he is your superior, but the two of you have always maintained a friendly relationship, even after your breakup. But it is also true that after that breakup he had never again allowed himself to touch you, not even in a gesture of greeting, so what the heck is wrong with him now?

He does not seem disturbed by your words, in fact, he smiles at them, “Are you going to let a vampire do it for me, then? Think about it, I put more than just a hand on you in the past, and I gave you all the time you needed to come back to me, now you come out seeing a vampire? And then, what? Are you going to look for a way to bring little monsters like him into the world? Don't be ridiculous and come back to me,” he tries again to touch you, this time stroking a lock of your hair, but once again you push him away.

Inside you feel like you're dying, your stomach is twisting from a sickening feeling. Who did you get so close to?

All the happiness you felt during your conversation with Jungkook has vanished into the air, in front of you is a real monster, one of those that hides in the shadows with a nice reassuring smile, posing as a human.

“Move over, Director. I don't have time to waste with you.”

He shakes his head, behind his eyes you can read irritation.

“You treat one of your superiors like this? Valentine had told me about this vampire fixation of yours, I investigated convinced it was just one of her usual nonsense, instead it's all true...I never expected such behavior from you, have you already forgotten me so easily with one of them?” you swallow your own air, you don't even have any saliva left to swallow, you stare over his shoulder in search of any exit, but block the passage entirely, there was little you could do.

“We ended our acquaintance because we wanted different things, do you remember that?”

“Yes, the excuse that you wanted something serious and I didn't... bullshit, the only obstacle at the moment is my mother, she wants me to marry an heiress, I could never let her down so I had decided to let you go... but to hear that you will so quietly give yourself to a bloodsucker fills me with anger, am I really that forgettable to you?”

You look at him in dismay, not only because he is talking to you so arrogantly, but also because of all the mean things he is spewing about vampires, about Jungkook.

“I'm telling you again, get out of my way before I scream,” you hiss forcefully despite your trembling legs, you know you'd have little to do against him, but that wouldn't stop you from defending yourself should the need arise, his status be damned.

But to your surprise he shifts, although his expression remained insolent.

“I need you to make a decision, don't make me wait too long, I'll be around for you.”

You take a big breath, trying to calm down, “I've already made a decision, I'm going to get on with my life and you need to stay out of it, before I report you,” you answer him harshly, before hurriedly stepping over him, returning to your office, ignoring his derisive chuckle.

There you find Valentine talking on the phone absentmindedly, your anger goes into your bloodstream as soon as you realize how quiet she is, despite the situation she has put you in, and you find your outlet, suddenly one of your hands slams down on the desk hard, right in front of her, who jumps in fright and stares at you shocked, as if you have suddenly gone crazy, hastily closes the call and then yells at you.

“What the hell is wrong with you!”

“How dare you tell Yoongyu my personal affairs! I don't think you had the right!” you are deaf to the pain in your hand, at that moment you would love to encircle her neck with your hands so that you could choke her with extreme comfort, but you try to control yourself.

Valentine pales, “W-Wait a minute! He was the one who asked me for information!”

Information?

“Information of what kind, Valentine?” you growl at her.

She wrings her hands in agitation, there you realize she's done more than just blurt out your experiences with boys lately.

“He wanted to know if you were dating ... and I told him you're hooked on that vampire app by now!” then she also says more, to your horror, ”He also wanted your personal phone number, said it was an emergency because he couldn't reach you on the one you use for work, and then ...”

Fuck, what else would there be?

“She asked me where you usually went out to eat when you went out, I thought you'd like to be wooed by someone like him, you're too hung up on those vampires, and Yoongyu is handsome, rich, and most of all, human!” she exclaims as if you have to necessarily agree with her. You, on the other hand, are realizing more and more that you have been working all this time with an unconscious madwoman.

“Maybe he didn't have my phone number because I didn't want him to have it? Did it seem smart to you to give it to him without even asking my consent, you jolly goose! Besides, you don't get to decide who I should or should not date! Get it through that empty head of yours!”

“What else could I do? He's the boss here and what he wants he'll get, don't think I wanted to give it to him so easily anyway! I resisted at first!”

You bring your hands to your face, betrayed so foolishly by one who should know absolutely nothing about you in the first place, fucking camaraderie among colleagues, “Don't you dare lie to me so shamelessly, we all know that everything you come to know then the rest of the building knows!”

Evidently your rant must have hurt her, since she leaves the office crying, but at that moment it matters little to you; you have much else to think about now. You collapse in your chair, exhausted. This is something to be taken seriously, so you have to talk to someone about it? Should you report it, so that if something happened to you, suspicion would be immediately on him?

And should you let Jungkook know about this situation?

Shake your head immediately, you need calm. You can't ruin someone's career in case it was words dictated solely by the anger of the moment, his distaste for vampires has poisoned his good judgment, that's all.

Nothing was going to happen.

Plus there was confidence between you, perhaps he thought you would not be bothered by that attitude of his, no matter how villainous.

But despite those thoughts, the next few hours are hell.

Once you leave work you begin to look around circumspectly, see shadows where there are none and hear nonexistent voices in the stretches of road with fewer people, because you forgot your car keys at home, leading you to make the foolish decision to ride the bus to work because of your laziness?

Do your shoulders curve under the weight of anxiety, are you in trouble?

Exactly two days have passed, nothing of all that you feared has happened. No disturbing messages, no harassing calls, and especially no shadows to haunt you every time you turn a corner. You were right, Yoongyu was all smoke and mirrors, fortunately.

With a calmer mind you continue to prepare for the evening you'll spend with Jungkook, let your hair down on your shoulders, treating it with the best products for its care, you want it to be soft and shiny for him. As for the dress, well, you chose it carefully. You don't know where it will take you, so your choice fell on a high-waisted sugar paper-colored, knee-length, simple and very pretty little dress with matching white heeled shoes and very natural makeup. You nod at your own reflection, you are proud of your appearance that night and nothing will change your opinion.

You take your handbag with everything you need and add a light white stole to it, the weather has been crazy in the last period and from practically summer days it has turned to very cold nights.

As if in a sort of Déjà Vu the doorbell rings gently to let you know there is someone waiting for you, you let out a sigh and arrived at the door you look through the peephole just in case, your eyes follow the smile that immediately opens on your face, this time it is not Jimin your knight.

You open the door wide and a wonderful floral smell invades you, the beautiful bouquet of flowers blocks your view and does not allow you to properly look at the boy who in a short time has become important in your life, you can make out white carnations and red and purple tulips on a bed of primroses, you take the colorful bouquet in your arms and inhale its scent, finally catching sight of Jungkook's angelic face.

“Hello, baby,” he murmurs as he looks at you spellbound, you have to fight against the fire that threatens to pervade your face, and to do so you hide almost completely behind the flowers that in moments cover you entirely.

“Hello to you, Mr. Jeon,” you drink in every detail of his appearance, from the growing hair let loose on his forehead to the jeans that bandage his well-shaped and toned legs, not to mention his chest that barely manages to be contained by the buttons on his navy blue shirt or the thin gold necklace that highlights his perfect neck.

“Before I got here I wanted to take you to dinner, now I'm of the opinion that it would be much better to stay home,” you try to suppress a laugh at the sight of his eyes trying, in vain, not to scan you like an infrared camera.

“Am I not suitable for a date with Jeon Jungkook?”

He shakes his head sorrowfully, “You are so beautiful that I will have to restrain myself from jumping at the throat of anyone who dares to look at you and desire you.”

Those words astonish you in no small way, it's the first time you've heard him say something like that, and in fact he winces.

“I really wouldn't do that, of course! It's against the law to kill, j-just kidding,” he clarifies nervously, blinking slowly.

He said 'It's against the law to kill,' instead of the usual and more typical 'I wouldn't hurt even a fly.'

This is meant to imply that in case of need he would be no trouble, and this strangely doesn't scare you, far from it, it makes you feel protected. He is a vampire, not a human being, and you appreciate every trait of him, from the most human to the most animalistic, even though Jungkook has never shown any of these.

You've never even seen him drink a single drop of blood and he doesn't seem willing to touch the subject, Jimin on the contrary has been happy to explain to you how the issue of nourishment works for vampires, perhaps Jungkook still doesn't feel comfortable with you.

“Jungkook, it is not and will never be a problem for me to hear you say such things, I have said worse in the past,” and it is all true, many times you have hoped that an axe would fall on the head of the usual boy who flirted with you in high school, or that the stupid, lackluster girl in the books would for once twist her ankle on those stilts she dared to call ‘shoes,’ whenever she came to school to threaten you with making her copy your tests.

“Oh, I should think so,” he takes a step toward you, stroking the tip of your nose with a finger in an affectionate gesture, ‘You sure have the face of someone who will never let anyone step on her toes,’ he nods amused, and you give him credit, because that's just the way it is.

You ask him to wait for you there, looking for a vase to put the expensive-looking flowers in, and when you come back you encircle his neck closing your eyes, sticking out your lips in what is a mute request, the kiss is not long in coming and you again enjoy the typical coldness of his soft lips, but this does not detract from the emotional warmth you feel, he is a careful and thoughtful kisser, one of those you can hardly forget.

When he pulls away his eyes are still half-closed and adoring, this makes you quiver internally.

“Can we go now?”

You nod without letting him tell you twice, and arm in arm with him you walk to his car parked a few meters away from your house, during the short walk you notice that your body is warmed only by his clothes, not his skin, how different can he be from you? Curiosity eats at you like a woodworm, you would love to ask him more about his species, but any time seems unsuitable for such a topic.

He gently opens the door for you, waiting for you to get in, and then goes around to the driver's side, in the car you can still detect a whiff of the floral scent that greeted you earlier in the house.

“What's with the flowers?” you ask, he gives you a puzzled look before starting the engine.

“Don't you like them?” he asks in turn, but you quickly deny it.

“Actually a lot, but it's been a while since I've received any, nowadays such gestures are considered too common and people don't do them anymore,” you sigh, maybe you're too old-fashioned, but you've been pleasantly impressed by them.

“It's people who give them a trivial meaning, flowers don't deserve to be called “common stuff”!” he exclaims seriously indignant, you burst out laughing and his gaze becomes confused, ”Why are you laughing? I'm serious!”

“Sorry, sorry! It's just... I don't know, maybe you were born in an era where no one would ever question certain romantic gestures and now you're nervous, you're so cute” you keep laughing with your hands in your face, trying to hold back, but after a few moments he too joins in.

“You're making me feel so old, I like flowers regardless of where and when I was born,” he clarifies proudly, leaving again when the traffic light kicks off, the city lights are so bright it looks like daytime, the little stores are still open, but few people are seen around at that hour.

“If only you would tell me exactly how old you are...” you throw in briefly, Jungkook shoots you a piercing glance from the mirror, you shrug your shoulders.

“Hey, you're smart ... but a hundred days haven't gone by yet.”

“Antipathetic...” you mutter in a low voice, sticking out your lower lip, he laughs at you, shaking his head.

After that he stops the car not far from a restaurant, it looks very nice and elegant, not obnoxiously glitzy, but intimate. Just the place for a date.

Out of the car he takes your hand, leading you past the small road and then toward the entrance, your footsteps ticking along with his quieter, more regular ones, he seems a little excited and how can you blame him? You're so flustered you think you won't eat anything, then again, it's Jungkook and you can safely be yourself.

A waiter comes up to you smiling, your attention immediately falls on the two front teeth that are sharper than the others, you study the environment, noticing how the colors are as warm as they are dark. Also, people whisper to each other, not letting you know what they were saying to human ears.

“Two days ago I made a reservation for two,” Jungkook is saying to the boy, who nods, asking him under what name he registered the reservation, although he seems to know Jungkook, perhaps he is a regular client. Past that part you are escorted to your table, which overlooks the restaurant's inner garden.

Jungkook pays no attention to the people who take to observing both of you after you pass their tables; you do. Their attention seems to be all on you, and you wish you had read the name of the restaurant so you could do your dutiful research, because it seems anything but a place habitually frequented by humans.

Not that there's any problem for you, but you don't want to be disruptive to the vampires present, you humans have a particular kind of smell that only they smell, which they might like as much as exactly the opposite.

Jungkook gently pulls your chair aside and you thank him with a nod; small candles have been scattered throughout the room, making the atmosphere more intimate.

“Do you like it?” he asks, pointing to the place.

“It's very nice, do you come here often?” investigation mode activated.

“It's my friend's restaurant, Taehyung, I've been a regular client since it opened, about...” he suddenly freezes, raising an eyebrow, “I know what you want to do, I'm not going to tell you when it opened,” he mutters, picking up his menu.

You snort through your nose; if he had told you how many years the restaurant has been open, you might have guessed roughly his age.

His dark eyes scan all the dishes on the menu very slowly, you're sure he knows that menu by heart, he's just wasting his time not to confront you, shaking his head you also take your menu and just follow his same actions.

There are many meat dishes, and it says in a note that they give the option to choose the type of cooking the client likes, clearly a vampire would have chosen a juicy, rare cut of meat, but you are not a vampire, so you choose a Korean dish that involves well-cooked meat.

“How was work?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you.

“Real hell, I told you Jin is busy with the wedding, right? That made Yoongi go ballistic,” he says contritely.

“Why? Wedding preparations are important!”

Jungkook looks around for a moment, then leans toward you with one hand covering his mouth, “Jin's brain has been more watered down lately than usual, he takes orders from his girlfriend and doesn't complain about it, the wedding was meant for next year, but that viper insisted it happen earlier and that messed up our schedule, we have more work than before, and Yoongi, our section chief, has been having nervous breakdowns several times.”

You bring a hand to your mouth trying not to laugh; it's the first time you've heard someone talk like that about Kim Seokjin. It must be nice to work with people with friendly faces, you think back to your situation with that fool Valentine and Yoongyu, a weight settles on your stomach.

“I wish I had friends at work, too, but instead I'm stuck with a moron who does everyone's business and even gets them into trouble.”

“Why settle for friends when you can have a boyfriend at work?”

The waiter arrives to bring you a bottle of red wine and water, beginning to pour the scarlet liquid inside the crystal glass, staring at Jungkook with plenty of eyes.

“What... What do you mean?” you stammer taking a sip of wine, Jungkook looks amused.

“What I said, from the way you talked about it you don't sound very satisfied with your job and I could use an assistant for photocopying,” he gives you a brief wink before drinking in turn.

You watch spellbound as you watch the sensual movement of his neck following the swallowing of the dark, full-bodied liquid; perhaps because of the alcohol, or perhaps just from the presence of the man, your body tingles uncomfortably.

You settle back in your chair, pulling the skirt of your dress lower, trying to cover both of your heated thighs. You certainly won't need the stole that night.

“Don't be silly, in that case I'd be your boss, not the assistant who prepares the photocopies,” you taunt him a little, he taps a finger on the table, his expression not changing, he's still wearing that slapping face.

“Oh, but photocopying would be a valid excuse to do much more, the use of a small key is the trick” what is he getting at?

You haven't even gotten beyond kissing and already he's talking about what you might be up to in the office. In front of a lot of vampires who can hear you talking then, has he gone mad?

“What are you getting at, Mr. Jeon?”

The waiter arrives to bring your dishes, Jungkook has chosen a rare steak, of course, but that doesn't make him look away from you.

Jungkook waits for the young man to leave before responding.

“Everywhere. I want to get everywhere, with you,” then quietly takes knife and fork waving you to start eating, you have to impose mental barriers on yourself not to think of dirty things that might turn you on more than before. Jungkook's words were crystal clear, as was the meaning behind them.

“Have you read Fifty Shades of Grey lately? You look like its protagonist,” you casually ask, before you take a bite, the flesh though well-cooked melts like butter and you almost groan with pleasure.

You don't know this friend of his, but boy, would you thank him for opening that restaurant, everything is really good.

Jungkook meanwhile wrinkles his nose, “Please, I'm so much better than that Christian Grey!”

You mock him, “You think so, and yet, you look like something out of that book.”

One of his eyebrows snaps upward, “How can I prove otherwise?”

You pretend you didn't hear him, so you change the subject.

“This date is also a chance to get to know each other more, right? So I can ask you everything,” he snorts through his nose, bringing his back to better observe you.

“Okay, okay... everything except age,” he points out, but that wouldn't be a problem for you.

Did he play with the dirty jokes? Well, you have a repertoire of such questions.

“First kiss?” you throw there without flinching, unlike Jungkook who tightens his lips trying not to laugh exasperatedly, ‘Explaining situation, person and environment’ you join your hands under your chin, with a completely innocent smile.

“You are... You are absurd! You want to find out my age any way you can!”

You bite your lower lip, smug.

“I only asked you when and to whom you had your first kiss, it's not that difficult... or maybe such a question embarrasses you?”

He forcefully resumes his glass, draining the last drop of wine with narrowed eyes, “I'll answer, as long as you do the same.”

“You are such a child.”

He raises his eyebrows and you roll your eyes, nodding.

“I was still living with my parents, but I was old enough to experience certain ... urges, throw in a broom cupboard and a girl a little older than me and the dish is served,” you raise an eyebrow.

“You kissed her just like that, without knowing her?” you ask in amazement, Jungkook hadn't seemed like such an easy guy.

He shrugs, “She was nice, plus she was visiting with her father, she needed someone to show her around the house while our parents were talking in the office... I offered and we liked each other, that's all,” you narrow your eyes.

You immediately banish any form of jealousy from your mind, after all, you too had other experiences before you met him, you must be a mature person.

“Exact age?” he ignores your question, asking another question.

“You?”

You?

You sigh a little.

Well, what about you... you certainly weren't as precocious as he was. You're embarrassed to admit it, but you came rather late to enjoy certain intimate aspects of a relationship.

“Nineteen years old, first boyfriend, the place was his house, more specifically the couch, his parents weren't home and we decided to experiment a little,” something in your words makes him laugh incredulously.

“Did you have to specify?” you sense annoyance in his tone and this makes you mentally lick your whiskers like a cat satisfied with dinner. “You specified that it was the broom cupboard!”

“And you that it was your boyfriend!”

He's not really angry, just annoyed, and you're loving this

“Shall we go ahead, first time?”

“Oh, dear...” he pinches his nose with two fingers as his broad chest vibrates under his giggles, ”It's our date, do you really want to hear me talk about former sex partners? Be serious, you just want to make me pay for it,” he says with conviction.

“Really... and what would be the reason?”

You move again, crossing your legs conspicuously, let the fabric of your dress flow a little over your smooth skin, and pretend to adjust it, making sure he notices.

In response he leans toward you again, completely amused by your actions, “You're tired of kisses and little caresses, you'd like our acquaintance to move to a more physical plane, and you're irritated by all this slowness.”

“And if that were really the case, what would you do then?” you blow provocatively.

He remains silent for a few moments before giving a polite nod to the waiter who was about to bring another bottle. You watch confused at his actions.

He murmurs something in his ear, and the young man nods, taking the wine with him. “What did you say to him?”

He puts on a completely innocent expression, “I just asked for the bill.”

[copperbadge]

Howdy! I am considering submitting manuscripts I've written to a publisher or possibly self publishing. The publisher states on their website that authors must maintain an active social media presence. I'm not normally a social media type, Tumblr is my only one. What would you reccommend for such? Is it worth it to pay someone to make a website for me? Thanks and many virtual kisses for Dot and Deebs!

Honestly, I haven't submitted to a publisher since before a lot of modern social media existed. :D

It is my understanding, but this is secondhand information, that publishers want you to have either a twitter or a tiktok, preferably both, where you're frequently active and have a high follower count, because they want you to be able to publicize your book on it. One of many reasons I don't even consider trad publishing anymore is that I don't want to spend a significant chunk of my time filming videos for the sole purpose of hawking my books.

Now, as I said, that's an inference I've drawn; you may want to speak to someone who has been trad published recently to get the inside scoop (readers if you work in publishing or have been published recently, feel free to add commentary; remember to comment or reblogs, as I don't repost asks sent in response to other asks). I do have an author website but I built my own; I don't know what the going rate is for paying someone to build one these days but most website platforms are pretty intuitive to use -- I built mine on Wordpress and I'm building a new one on Wix currently, and at this point both are very drag-and-drop oriented. I do think a website is a good thing for an author to have, but I wouldn't pay someone to build one for you until you've taken a swing at DIY and decided it's not where you want to spend your time and energy.

In terms of self-publishing, the good news is that none of the rules apply; this is also the bad news. :D Because the thing about selfpub is that you either pay or DIY for...everything. It can be very inexpensive; when I publish a book the only direct monetary cost is what I pay for an ISBN and a proof copy of the book, which I will make back in the first 10 sales or so. However, I am "paying" in man hours in terms of typesetting, cover design, uploading the PDFs to lulu.com, proofing the initial copy, correcting the proof and reuploading (which usually involves further typesetting), and of course all the publicity -- website design and redesign, copywriting, tumblr posting. And while my profit per copy sold is well above what most authors with traditional publishers will make, that's because the publisher is doing a lot of the work for you. And, because I don't have an active twitter or tiktok or a publisher, my books are not very widely publicized. Undoubtedly I sell fewer copies than I would if I had a robust twitter following, but catch me touching that rancid wasteland without inch-thick gloves on.

So -- I think it's probably pretty important to understand that I have deliberately rejected trad publishing for good but not lucrative reasons, and I'm considered at best an iconoclast and more commonly a crank for having done so. If you can go the tradpub route, I would, but I also wouldn't put any money you're not prepared to write off as a loss into that pursuit. Definitely I would see if there's anyone in the industry you can reach out to who can answer these questions with a more thorough understanding of what publishers look for in an author and how to go about achieving that than I possess.

In any case, good luck! It's a journey regardless and I hope you enjoy your time on the path wherever you end up. And I'll give the cryptids a special cuddle for ya.

[pacific-rimbaud]

i'm curious how do you feel about dramione community now?

i'm a new writer, long time reader and can't help but feel like the fandom and the ship changed so much and i wonder if i even have a place in it anymore.

there's so much demand for the writers from the readers (constant update demands, no willingness to engage with wips) and at the same time i've been in a couple of dramione writer communities where other writers are openly pressuring each other to either start tiktok or finish the fic before posting it (the new dramione writers society discord server specifically).

particularly upset when i see people advising each other to commission art to promote their fic for writing.

it seems like that space for writers to be just writers becomes smaller and smaller and readers are not interested in the fandom but rather the next hot fic that's getting traction.

and all that combined with the overall hatred toward dramione as a ship outside of dramione.

I've genuinely stopped writing because of this. and i'm sad that i lost that one hobby that made me feel good, as it now seems like a popularity contest more than just fandom fun.

you seem like you're able to balance your love for writing with the changed landscape of the fandom. at least from the outside posts :D

DHr grew exponentially in the short time I spent in the ship, and that growth will only accelerate as big name fandom writers continue to enter traditional publishing with seven-figure book and film deals.

Life is change. Change is death. It's okay to grieve what's gone and won't come back.

And I want to add: keep writing. No matter what. But that would be hypocritical. I haven't written in a year, and remain deeply uncertain about whether or not I'll take it up again. It's a real puzzle.

The relevant questions seem to be: why do I want to write? And: what spaces feel nurturing to me as a writer?

The first one's easy. I write because I like the films I see in my head. I like the way language sounds. I like to experience the past, and to be swept away by intense emotions. It's like having a Holodeck in my head. And sometimes, when everything clicks, I get to describe my little bespoke scenarios in words that make a nice sound when they rub up against one another.

I'm waiting on a good answer to the second question. All I know is that art, criticism and commerce have always been an incredibly awkward ménage à trois. No shade to folks seeking to work the fandom algorithm and secure the bag (posting already completed work on a schedule, writing popular tropes and characterizations, and using original art in social media marketing are all great ways to do that). Whether money changes hands or merely attention (which can be converted into money), that's commerce having its turn at the wheel.

I'm suspicious that my creative brain is commerce-repulsed. Maybe yours is, too. So it goes.

I'm certain that we shouldn't let that keep us off the Holodeck.

So. Make a deal with me. I promise to run some freaky little scenarios in the simulator this summer if you'll do the same. Then let's meet in the limestone cave and paint our blorbos by candlelight. Let's tell them around the campfire. Come draw them with me in the sand.

[moonstruckme]

Hey! I recently discovered your blog and I love your writing! I’m having a stressful time with schoolwork at the moment and it’s really comforting for me. I was wondering if you’ll take my request of the mauraders comforting y/n after she doesn’t get into the university she loves (Cambridge)? My interview’s in a few days and I’m feeling nervous about the result if it goes badly. Or anything along those lines really!! Thank you for your work! <33

Hi babe, I'm glad you like them! Good luck if you haven't done your interview yet, and please try to keep in mind (I know it's not easy, I was shit at it when I was applying to universities) that it'll all be okay regardless! I never would have imagined I'd end up at the school I did, but I've had an amazing time here, so I think it really is what you make it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your heartbreak is intermittent. Your boyfriends have affixed you with everything you need, from your heaviest blanket to your favorite treats from the corner store, but even with the distraction of your comfort movie on the TV in front of you, James keeps catching the occasional sluggish tear rolling down your face. It seems like you’re only able to slip free of your grief for a few minutes at a time before you remember it, tiny sounds of anguish slipping past your lips as your eyes fill with tears all over again. 

He reaches over you now as a silent sob jerks your shoulders, tucking you under his arm. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers feebly. The words feel emptier with each repetition. 

You clearly don’t believe him, sniffling and pulling your legs closer to your chest. 

Your boyfriends share in your agony, Remus keeping his stare determinedly on the movie despite the worried set to his brows while Sirius’ eyes keep flitting to you, continually looking like he’s about to say something and then deciding against it.

Something must happen in that head of yours, because suddenly your crying worsens, awful, wracking sobs tearing out of you despite how hard you’re clearly trying to suppress them. 

Remus turns around in his seat, crestfallen. “Dovey, come on,” he pleads, grabbing the remote to pause the movie. Your ragged breaths sound worse in the new silence. “You’re okay, sweetheart.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say miserably. You press a hand to your mouth to quiet yourself.

“No, don’t be sorry.” James scrubs a hand up and down your shoulder. “Let it out if you need to, angel.” 

You won’t, face growing blotchier by the second, but you do lean into his side as a compromise. 

“I know you’re disappointed,” Remus says tentatively, “but I really do think it’ll all work out in the end. In a year this won’t seem nearly as important. Probably sooner.” 

You don’t respond; you don’t believe him, either. 

On your other side, Sirius makes a soft sound. “What’s going through your head, sweetness?” 

“Just—” you sniff, wiping a hand under one eye too roughly for James’ liking. He intercepts it, thumbing the tears from your other cheek far more tenderly. “I’m so d—disappointed in myself.” You break halfway through, covering your mouth with your hand as sobs jostle their way out of you. 

“Don’t say that.” Sirius is practically begging. “You worked so hard, there wasn’t anything more you could have done.” 

“You—you can’t know that. I could have tried harder.” 

“Darling, these are pointless thoughts,” Remus says gently. “There’s no use in thinking about what might have been different. You did work very hard, maybe as hard as you could, but it’s done now.” 

Your only response is a soft, half-repressed keening sound, and Remus gets out of his seat, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of you. His knees bump the couch as he reaches forward to grasp your ankles. 

“What do you want for yourself—say, a year from now?” 

Your eyebrows scrunch while James’ rise. He’s not sure this is the line of thought Remus should be leading you down right now; up until a couple hours ago, the answer had hinged on the university you’ve just been rejected from. Sirius looks similarly dubious, gray eyes moving between you and Remus warily. 

“Take your time,” Remus urges. One of his palms slides up the line of your calf and back down again. “Think about it.” 

“I want…I want good friends at my school,” you say, eyes downcast as you think. “I want to like where I live—to feel at home—and to like my classes too.” You look up at him and your eyes have gone glossy. “I just want to be happy,” you whimper. 

There’s heartache in the crease of Remus’ brows, but he rubs your shin consolingly. “You will be happy, sweetheart. None of the things you just said are exclusive to any one school.” He rests both hands on your knees, giving them a little squeeze. “I know it might not feel like it right now, but that wasn’t your only path to happiness. You might even make better friends, or take more interesting classes, or feel more at home wherever you end up than you ever would have at that place.” A tear dribbles down to your chin, and Remus’ eyebrows scrunch concernedly. “Do you get what I’m saying?” 

“I do. Thanks. Just, I can’t—” You suck in a breath, trying to keep more tears at bay. “I can’t think about that right now.” 

“I know.” He rubs your calf, lips pursed. “I know you’re not ready to think about what’s next just yet, darling, but just know you’re going to be alright. We’ll talk about it when you’re ready.” 

“Do you want to wallow for a bit?” Sirius asks, cozying up to you and needling his arms under yours to hug you from the side. You sniff, and he takes it for agreement, setting his chin on your shoulder. “Perfect.” He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Wallowing is my specialty, sweetpea. If you wanna cuddle for the next twelve to eighteen hours, I’m your man.” 

“You do have work in the morning,” Remus reminds him idly. 

“Priorities, Moony. Our beautiful genius sweetheart is sad, if I have to shirk all my responsibilities for the next two weeks to cuddle her, then that’s a small price to pay.” 

His scheme works, and a tiny smile worms its way onto your lips. James can practically feel Sirius’ internal fist-pump. 

“What?” he goads you, giving your jaw another quick kiss. “You don’t think I’ll do it? No sacrifice is too much for my girl, you know.” 

“This is not wallowing,” you point out, and he pouts at you. 

“Fine, you’ve caught me.” He dips his head to nip at the ticklish spot on your neck, a near desperate move in James’ opinion, and grins when you giggle unwillingly. “I only like it when I wallow. I want you smiling, without a single unpleasant thought going through that lovely head of yours, all day long. But alas,” he sighs exaggeratedly, resting the side of his head on your shoulder, “we can mope, if that’s what you want.” 

You don’t reject his offer, placing your head atop his, but James notices that some of the heaviness has waned from your countenance. He leans over and presses his lips to your temple.

[foodtruckery]

oh my GOD you are so big brain the idea of stan resorting to prostitution when theyre trapped between dimensions and it forcing both of them to come to terms with their issues through what im sure would be a really ugly argument

why am i now imagining ford looping the way stan's voice sounded through his head. wrecked and strained and ford's stupidly big brain is happily filling the gaps in for him about what stan did to sound like that. all the gritty details of imagining stan getting on his knees for someone, how rough it mustve been for him to have slightly red eyes. did they pull on stans hair? was he nothing but a willing hole, relaxing his throat to let them in? or did he actively reciprocate? did he run his tongue along the underside of their cock and hum something meaningless just for the vibration?

and then at some point, those visualizations start veering wayyy to close to fantasies for fords comfort when he starts imagining stan kneeling in front of him. his hand is stans hair, yanking him deeper. stan looking up at him with tears pricking at the corner of his eyes from the effort. stan moaning for him just from the feeling of ford's cock shoved down his throat-

i also feel like with a multiverse quite literally endless, it might in the long wrong help ford and stan get more comfortable when it comes to their feelings for each other. hard to draw a line at incest when you see what looks like a living water fountain banging a dishwasher or some other crazy shit like that

(also please dont feel pressure to answer asks fast! youve got your own life and your own responsibilities and theres no rush to get to anything i send you i just like to chat :D)

-🐶

MY FRIEND!! thank you for being patient with me! the last week and a half have been WILD and i have been chomping at the bit to get to my ask box! i'm sorry it's taken so long to get to this (and tbh i had kiiiind of hoped i would be done with this piece so i could share when i responded but fuck it! we'll get there! i wanna talk!) but i need you to know that this fuckin ask has absolutely been fueling me through the like. 6600 words i have written of this damn idea so far hahaha. so in exchange for all the lovely inspiration, i will tell you a bit about what i will hopefully be able to finish soon-ish here! cause like. YES. absolutely just love the idea of ford slowly figuring out what's going on and getting caught up on all the little details -- like what the fuck does the dick look like on a dishwasher, right???? how the hell did stan even figure out how to get something like that off?? is the technique applicable to ford's dick???? and honestly, i haven't delved as far into that whole train of thought as i had originally planned to (and might go back and add to it, who knows!) so i just really LOVE coming back to this ask and ruminating on all of THAT.

not to say that we aren't getting at least a LITTLE bit of it, of course! for you, 🐶, a snippet of what i've got so far because this bit in particular was absolutely inspired by this ask!

[ropebuny]

hey girllll...i've been thinking of setting up a kinky sideblog with mostly original fantasies. Nothing about myself, just made-up stories. I like mostly soft possessive dominance and spanking...literally so embarrassed just to write the word spanking but there it is. I haven't been able to find much hornyposting that gets you through your head and feelings and doesn't feel like just a list of dirty words.

You've posted a lot about most of kinkblr being unoriginal. (I hope you'd welcome my content lol.) Do you know of any dom or sub accounts around that are Original and Sexy and Not Gross? (though gross is subjective, I know.)

And if I made a D/s enjoyer account, would I be able to find followers other than just Old Male Doms looking for easy prey?

Idk if any of this made sense...

hii I’m kinda blanking rn as I answer this BUT some accounts who post original content, text wise or photo wise, that I loveee are: @meatexe @ee33 @tenderheartedbrat @awfuladolescent @cumpliantly @un-father @boyobjectifier @c3meterycat @pupdoghter @1inkinbark @cumcover3dangel @abrvsive @bunnycxxnt @https-sal1 @curseddolly @mychaoticdeath @toyingwithyou @cursesandcrows @troubledaughtergf @dumbest-bb @domdwelling @deathxw1sh @sin-aestheticx @meandering-desecrator

and to answer your second question, yes of course you’d be able to find lots of followers that aren’t just weird old predatory men; there’s lots of lovely subs on here and also lovely doms, who aren’t just looking to dom you, who you can befriend :) but definitely be careful because most interactions tend to be predatory :(( and of course you made sense, don’t worry at all !! I hope your kink journey on here turns out to be wonderful :))