#swedish curiosity

[taintandviolent]

Ache ; Roman Godfrey x secretary!Reader

summary: [PART TWO TO THIS FIC!] It's only been a week and a half since secretary!reader and Roman's little interaction in his office, but he's pretending like nothing happened. When reader decides to have a night out, Roman's jealousy gets the best of him and he intervenes.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 4.3K | themes of jealousy and possessiveness, mentions of alcohol, Roman kind of being aggressive for no reason, blood kink, blood consumption, cunnilingus (female receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, finger sucking, mind control.

a/n: idea/requested by @xxbimbobunnyxx! thank you so much for having thoughts and letting me indulge in my sicko thoughts about this tall Swedish man, baby!! i hope you love this! not really beta-read, as per usual. forgive me. divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

It had been a week and a half but it had felt like an eternity to you, if you were being truthful with yourself. Business ran as normal; your menial tasks and appointment setting resumed. Roman looked at you the same way he always did, unnervingly, hungrily, with his lips pursed forward and wide eyes following you as you walked past, but he hadn't mentioned it. In fact, it was as though it had never happened at all. There were no secretive touches, no lingering smirks... he'd hardly called you into his office, in fact. Aside from work-related topics, he was all but ignoring you. 

He'd told you not to mention it to anyone, but you thought there would be something, some semblance of recognition in his eyes when your gazes met. If there was, it was masked by his own impassive aloofness. You were frustrated in every way, but most of all sexually. Your nights at home were spent furiously masterbating in your bathtub or your bed, sometimes with a vibrator, sometimes without, trying to reach the same level of orgasm that you had with Roman. Each attempt was futile, and ultimately, a failure. On Friday night after work, you'd decided to go to one of the few bars in town, in hopes that some alcohol would untangle the mess of wires that your nervous system had become.

Still dressed in your silk blouse, tight pencil skirt and heels, it didn't take you long to attract the attention of a guy. You were truthfully thankful for the flirting, and your willingness to chat with him inadvertently turned into a date. He'd bought your first drink, while he nursed his second casually as the conversation naturally progressed. His name was Jacob, he had lived in Hemlock Grove all his life, had a daughter, and worked at the Fire Station. He was handsome, certainly enough to hold a conversation with. He was sweet, you could tell. His fingers brushed against yours delicately as he reached for his glass, sending a shiver up your spine. The way his soft smile curled up on one side, his soft, chocolate button eyes watched you as you spoke... 

With a polite smile, you answered his latest question, bouncing one of your patent leather high heels off the tip of your toe. "Oh, I work at the Godfrey Institute." 

"Wow." He said, impressed. "The Institute? What's that like?" His expression was one of genuine curiosity, which, to you, was normal. Most people wondered about the massive, ominous structure that overlooked their town. You could hardly blame him, you'd been one of them prior to working there.

You blinked. What was work like? Without warning, your mind's eye was flushed with red and you could almost taste him on your tongue. Roman fucking you over his desk, mercilessly, while the blood dribbled onto your naked body. You thought about the way his cock felt as it pushed into you, the swollen, red tip parting your slick folds. You thought about his hands as they explored you, flesh tasting flesh hungrily and the way that he slipped his long fingers into your mouth, forcing you to suck them, to drink someone else's blood. 

"That bad, huh?" 

"What?" You blinked again.

"That was way too long of a pause. It's that bad?" 

"No! No," you stammered, taking another sip of your drink. "It's not bad at all. It pays well. Good benefits. My boss can just be... a lot to handle." 

You had to control your smirk; you handled him just fine. Fighting your own expression, you brought the tiny straw to your mouth and sucked down some liquid. 

"Aren't all bosses a lot to handle?" 

"Yeah," you nodded. "But Mr. Godfrey is... different." 

"Well," he murmured, leaning in closer to you. "He better not be mistreating you. You're too pretty for that." 

A demure, gracious smile crossed your lips as he leaned into you, nudging you with his shoulder. It was playful, but held intention, you could feel it. You took another sip of your drink, staring coyly at the ice cubes.

That was when you felt it; the inviting haze. It held a promise of a command, something you'd be compelled to do. Which, at that point, could be anything. Your cunt immediately responded to the familiar sensation, desperate for his attention again. She clenched and you shuddered violently, gasping aloud.

"You okay?" Concern laced his voice.

"Yes, yes, sorry." 

Jacob took a swig of his own drink, grinning into it as he did. He thought the reaction was from him, and it gave him a boost of confidence to slip his arm around your hips and pull you close to him. 

"I think you're the prettiest woman I've ever seen..." Jacob spoke into the shell of your ear, whispering sweetly. Another shiver erupted at the base of your neck and travelled downwards. His breath was hot, and smelled invitingly like whiskey. For a fleeting moment, you thought about turning your head, brushing your lips against his soft ones. After a week of nothing but iciness, it would’ve been so nice to feel someone against you, wanting you, craving you.  

That was until the overwhelming urge to turn around took control of your body, akin to the sensation of feeling someone's eyes on you. Your skin prickled. Panicking, you pivoted your body and searched the faces in the bar, flitting from one to another. None of them were the face you were looking for, none of them held the gaze that you felt.

You spun around to the other side, your hair whipping around your shoulder. Though smoke clouded the bar, you could see him clear as day. He stood at the other end of the bar, elbows propped up on the edge, a scotch glass loosely dangling from his hand. His green eyes seemed to cut through the haze, locking onto you in a troubling grip. He didn't look happy - he looked the way he did before he yelled at someone at the Institute, his chest heaving with drawn out, frustrated breaths.

Masking your nerves, you turned back to your drink, pinched the straw between your thumb and forefinger and flung it behind you, bringing the rim of the glass to your lips. The rest of the liquid flowed down your throat, stinging as it went. It provided no relief to the tightness in your stomach, unfortunately. 

"Woah, hey, what's the deal? You okay?" Jacob asked, his hand on your forearm.

"I..." You turned around again, expecting to be caught in Roman's gaze again... but he was gone. That was somehow more unsettling. 

"Y/N…" 

"Woah, shit. Where'd you come from?" Jacob jumped, his knee bumping into yours.

Your head turned slowly at the sound of his voice. He stood behind Jacob, a polite smile spread across his full lips. To someone who didn't know him, it would be a convincing one. To you, it wasn't. You'd seen him smile condescendingly at someone before ripping into them too many times. There was malice behind it and his eyes confirmed it.

The reaction that your body had to him was embarrassing and honestly unwarranted. It wasn't like you hadn't seen him in a week and a half; you saw him mere hours ago, but his attention hadn't been on you in the way it was now. Your cheeks flushed, your cunt throbbed in your underwear, desperate to feel him again. 

"Sorry for interrupting." 

Still obviously put off by his sudden appearance, Jacob nodded slowly. "It's... fine..." 

"Jacob," you started, flashing a bright, albeit fake smile. "This is my boss... Mr. Godfrey." 

Being the obvious gentleman that he was, Jacob stuck his hand out first. It seemed Roman was completely content with tightening his smile and giving the man a nod but after a few painful moments, he finally shook the man's hand. 

"Unfortunately, I have to steal her. Very pressing matter at the Institute." Roman’s long fingers wrapped around your bicep, enveloping it. His steel grip hurt, but you didn’t dare say anything. 

"Now, wait a minute." Jacob interjected, standing up from the stool. 

"Get lost." Roman hissed, stepping forward slightly. "Now."

And just like that, Jacob got up from his seat, put a twenty on the bar and walked towards the door. Feeling the warm stream flowing from his nostril, Roman wiped his nose, the blood collecting on the back of his hand. You stared, dumbfounded. Had Jacob really given up that easily? Or was there something to Roman Godfrey that you hadn't considered? You looked from the door back to your boss, who god – really towered over you.

"What did I say?" Roman asked, sternly. 

"Nothing about that." You retorted, shaking your head, your confidence wavering. Though nothing had been exchanged about that, you knew what he meant.

"I told you to..." 

"No," you corrected, cutting him off. "You told me not to tell anyone about what we did. I haven't." 

"Maybe you need a reminder." 

You thought about retorting with something smart, but Roman took a step closer to you, holding his hand up to your face. The smell of iron hit your nose. Instinctively, your tongue flicked out, lapping at the small streak of blood on the back of his hand. As before, the taste of it made you want to gag, but it aroused you all the same. 

"Mr. Godfrey," You cooed, looking up at him with doe eyes. "Am I not allowed to enjoy myself on my own time?" 

Roman raised his brows, as if to ask if you'd been enjoying yourself. You had been... to a degree. Despite Jacob being nice, you knew that fucking him wouldn't be the same as fucking Roman. It wouldn’t satiate the hunger that pulsed deep within your pussy, he wouldn’t fuck you the same way. That was all he needed; he laughed through his nose. He stiffened above you, somehow elongating even more.

"Your cunt is aching for me, I can smell it." 

Fuck. The humiliation had you wanting to whine and throw your body against his, wrapping your arms around his neck like you had a week ago. Writhing, you pressed your thighs together tightly. Roman’s eyes flitted down, watching as you rubbed them together pathetically, desperately trying to alleviate the throbbing sensation.

“What am I supposed to be reminded of? As though I’ve stopped thinking about it.”

“Oh, really?” 

You rolled your lips inward and bit down, closing your eyes. He hadn’t even asked you to say that, you’d just done it on your accord. The drink you’d had must’ve been working – at what, you weren’t sure. Humiliating yourself? You took a breath, pacifying yourself. 

“Remember what I said about not firing you?” He asked, his voice low.

“What? I’m fired?” 

He laughed breathily, rolling his eyes away from you, then back. “No. But if you keep fucking around, I might reconsider.” 

“Fucking around?” You asked, shocked, pain darkening your gaze. “I had a drink with a guy! I wasn’t aware that it was off-limits.” 

“You’re my personal assistant, remember me saying that? I need you available whenever the fuck I want you available. Not fucking some random guy in a bar.” 

Your pussy twinged with heat and the tugging sensation in your stomach worsened. Though he hadn’t said it, his motivations were obvious; he was jealous and he wanted you available for him at all times. Though somewhere, you were sure that you should feel disrespected, you couldn’t find it in yourself to acknowledge it. There was a workplace violation here somewhere. Your tongue darted out, running along your bottom lip teasingly.

Suddenly, you said: “Fine, then. I’m going home.” Partially, it was a test. The thrill of the chase. 

“Probably a good idea.” He flashed his brows at you, almost expectantly.

You turned on your heels, allowing your hand to drift behind you just enough to graze Roman’s swelling cock through his perfectly pleated dress pants. You heard him inhale a breath through his teeth, but he didn’t follow you. As you pushed through the door, he was still standing by the bar, watching you. 

Outside, the cold night air bit at your cheeks, but you were in the car before the frigidness penetrated too deeply. You tossed your purse onto the passenger seat, retrieved your keys from it, and started the engine. Leave it to him to frustrate you, yet again. Now, not only were you unimaginably horny, but you were unable to get your kicks with anyone else, because God forbid Roman needed something. Fine, if he wanted to play, you’d play. Tomorrow, you devised, you’d be as aloof as he was. Your mood would be a mirror, reflecting whatever his was.

Unbeknownst to you, the cherry-red Jaguar pulled out behind you moments later, gravel crunching underneath the tires. You huffed and reached for the stereo knob, turning it halfway. Music filled the car with a peppy and happy beat – something that didn’t match your mood at all.

As you drove, your peripheral was filled with blackness. Hemlock Grove was dark at night. Really dark. The woods that surrounded the town seemed to go on forever, trees looming up around you like soldiers that guarded the population. Then, there was the issue of the wolves… 

You looked in the rearview mirror and squinted, blinded by the headlights of a car – but not just any car. You recognized that car anywhere, having seen it parked at the Institute every day. He was following you awfully close, probably making sure you weren’t trying to lose him. That was the last thing on your mind. In fact, you were silently praying that he followed you all the way home… but, just to test him, you eased your foot into the gas pedal, watching as the speedometer crept higher. For as masterfully as you handled the roads, Roman handled them better. His headlights never left your mirrors. 

As you pulled into the driveway of your modest little house, you switched off the music and killed the engine. You glanced at the rearview mirror again, delighted to find that Roman was blocking you in. Though your address was on your resume, he now had a visual of where you lived, and knew how to get there whenever he wanted. You shivered excitedly at the thought. With a smirk slicing your features, you walked around to the back of your car, hands on your hip. Roman was getting out of his car, elongating. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he closed in the distance between the two of you, and his hands gripped your waist tightly, fingers jabbing into the soft flesh. Roughly turning you around, Roman pinned your hips between his and the trunk of your car. Invading your personal space, he urged his back against yours, forcing you downwards. 

“Jesus Christ, are you insane? My neighbours will see.” 

His expression darkened, as if he was considering doing it anyway. Planting your hands on the trunk, you pushed your back against his chest again but behind you, it was as though he was made of iron. Didn’t move, not even a little bit. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. Fighting against him, you grunted. What was he doing?

“Stop it,” you pleaded, trying to press yourself upwards. “W-we can’t do this out here.” 

As if Mother Nature herself wanted to thwart his attempts, the clouds that had loomed, obscuring the moon all night, finally decided to dump. The deluge drenched both of you within seconds, thunder rumbling above. You twisted your body to glance behind you. His perfectly arranged hair was now mussed; dark, dripping strands hanging in front of his forehead. He was staring pointedly at you, burning holes into your skin.

Finally, Roman conceded to your worries – or maybe just didn’t want to get any wetter – and shoved himself off you with an angry, annoyed huff. With a jerk of his head, he encouraged you to move. He followed you up the small pathway, and you’d hardly put the key in the slot before you felt Roman’s body pressing into yours, forcing you inside. You dropped your bag on the small bench by the door, and turned to the looming figure behind you. 

“Why are you being so…” your voice trailed off, partially afraid to vocalize what you were going to ask him. 

He didn’t answer, again, and instead, his lips found yours, his tongue slipping in past your teeth. He tasted like scotch; warm and seductive. While still kissing you – gentler than he’d ever been – walked you backwards. You were more than happy to blindly let you guide him off a cliff at this point. Abruptly, Roman’s hands met your chest, shoving you hard back against the sofa. It almost punched the breath from your lungs, but you steadied yourself, looking up at him. 

“What is your problem?” You furrowed your brows. “Are you really that upset with me? You never told me that I couldn’t have a drink with a guy.”

“Do you not listen? I said I need you available whenever the fuck I want. For whatever the fuck I want.” 

Roman kicked your feet apart, the spikes of your heels catching on the fibres of the sheepskin rug below you. Slotting himself in between your thighs, Roman got to his knees, his hands cupping your kneecaps. He harshly pulled your legs apart, the fabric of your skirt gathering at your hips as he did. You were exposed to him, the thin strip of your underwear barely covering you. The smoothness of his chin ghosted along your thigh, his lips grazing the flesh just before he reaches where you want him. It takes everything in your power not to push him between your legs, onto your aching cunt, but somehow, you resisted the urge, and dug your nails into the sofa cushions instead. 

He bent his head down, tongue stretching out over his lips and immediately, you felt the hot rush of his breath wash over you, your stomach clenching tightly in anticipation. As the tip of his tongue delved between your folds, you jerked against the soft fabric of your sofa. Your back arched, pressing against the resistance of the cushions. With his mouth still attached to your clit, his bright green eyes flitted to you, brows lifting on his forehead. Long arms unfolded from your legs, reaching up to your breasts like two shadows. His hands cupped them outside of your satin blouse, attempting to thumb your nipple through the layers but quickly decided that it wasn’t good enough. With a quick flash of movement, Roman had ripped your blouse apart for the second time. You bit back a yelp.

As he rolled your nipples between his fingers, pinching them here and there, his eyes drank you in, watching as the shifting shadow pattern of the leaves danced across your bare skin. The storm raged on outside as Roman devoured your insides like one of the supposed wolves in the woods. His tongue flicked quickly at her before he paused to lick a long stripe from your entrance upwards, lingering to drive the tip into your clit. God. The buzzing contact made you scream and writhe and cry. He growled into her as you cried out, never relenting. With pathetic, slutty moans punctuating his every move, you rolled your head back against the sofa, letting your eyes drift shut. Every time he made contact with her, kitten licking and teasing you with intention, you whined. While his tongue stayed busy, one of Roman’s hands drifted away from your hardened nipple, and slithered back down until it found your wet entrance, prodding the slit curiously. Your body convulsed, a desperate whimper falling from your lips. He was going to fuck you. No, he was going to overstimulate you.

He sank his fingers all the way in, to the knuckle, and began pumping his wrist back and forth. Two fingers opened inside you, stretching you out before curling up to hit the sensitive, spongy flesh deep within you. Your nails scraped along the fibres of the sofa cushion, flailing for something to grip onto.

“Oh my fucking god… Oh my god.” Involuntarily, your hips began rolling with his motions, driving his fingers in deeper to you with every thrust. 

“Good girl,” Roman muttered, the humming vibrations sending a shockwave through your core.That cold voice with the slight lilt of an accent you couldn’t place – it did something to you. The first warning clench. Oh no. Your pupils dilated at the feeling, your breath quickened. He was going to make you cum, possibly faster than you ever had in your life. You couldn’t remember how many times you’d tried to make yourself orgasm in the past week, but he somehow managed to do it within minutes. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, I’m gonna’...” 

Your breath catches in your throat. And just like that, the sensations were gone. You stammered out some words of displeasure, lifting your head to look up at him. Roman stuck both his glistening fingers in his mouth, suckling them like a greedy child. Your legs were still quivering when he took hold of them, pulling you closer to the edge of the sofa. “Did I say you could cum?” 

You panted, feeling frustrated. Your body screamed in agony over the lack of stimulation, and every time you clenched, you felt the hot burn of an orgasm denied. 

“Did I?” 

“N-no…” 

You collapse against the sofa, shuddering. Agony. Nothing but agony. This entire week had been nothing but an edge-fest, and there he was, edging you some more. You felt your expression contort into a frown, tears welling at the corners of your eyes. The sound of his belt buckle brought you back, snapping to attention. You looked down between your legs just in time to see Roman pull his stiff cock free, a bead of precum leaking from the slit. The tip was blushing, and looked hot to the touch. You squeezed your thighs together, sandwiching the head into the pillowy flesh of your thighs – it was.  

. 

Roman didn’t give you any time to prepare. Once the tip breached your slit, he sank in until your torsos touched. You gasped, leaning forward in slight discomfort. He paused for a moment, letting your body adjust to the girth.

“So fuckin’ tight.”

He began thrusting, quickly. Repeatedly impaling you with his cock, moving his hips back and forth in half circles, Roman’s movements were controlled, hitting you in a spot that made you cry out with each thrust. You suddenly rasped his name, disrupting his rhythm. It was the first time that you’d called him Roman as opposed to Mr. Godfrey, and the intimacy of the gesture had his cock throbbing within your slick pussy.  He leaned forward, clenching his teeth. 

“You’re mine, you fucking know that?” His lips moved against your ear as he spoke, sending a violent chill down your spine.

Between laboured pants, you nodded weakly. He did it so well. He did everything so well – without trying – and it had you in pieces. You couldn’t take it back, the feelings that had been roiling inside your system for weeks had been confirmed. Now he knew it, because you acknowledged it. No going back.

“That’s right.” Roman leaned into you, pressing his cock further into you, grinding down into you until you saw stars. As he chased his orgasm, fucking you hard against the sofa cushions, the head of his cock relentlessly pounded your insides – hammered into a part of you that ached. You held onto his shoulders, pressing yourself up against him just to feel the warmth of his skin against your own. Roman pulled you up further, his long arms winding around your back with ease. His cock slipped out from inside you, bobbing against the inside of your thighs, smearing a mixture of arousals on the hot flesh. After a little bit of rearranging, he hoisted you up into his arms and sat down on the sofa, lowering you back down onto his length slowly. 

As the muscle clenched around his cock, Roman let out a deep grunt, inhaling through his teeth. The feeling of being so full overtook your systems. You were blanking, unable to speak and barely able to think over the heavy thudding of your own pulse. Roman’s hand finds your neck, gripping it softly. Your pulse hammers against his fingers, and groaning, he bucked his hips up into you just a little bit harder.

“Fuck – I…”

“What? Talk. Use your mouth, or I’ll use it for you.”

With a devilish smirk, you almost considered stuttering again, just to see what he’d do. You moaned. “Feels– feels so good. I wanna’ cum.” 

“Yeah? Gonna’ cum all over that cock, you little whore?” 

You nodded, using your leg muscles to bounce faster atop his cock. Every time the tip hit your cervix, you winced,  but it was an ache that you’d been craving for almost weeks. Gasping, you threw your head back, running your hands up your torso. The skin was feverish, your whole body was on fire, it felt like every inch of exposed skin was engulfed at that point. Roman’s hands clamped onto your hips, lifting you up off his cock slightly. Mouth hanging slack, eyes lust blown, he began thrusting up into your sopping cunt. Faster and harder and over and over and again and again, until you came, screaming into his shoulder. 

His own orgasm came shortly after, coating your insides with his blisteringly hot seed. He kept thrusting until your clenching stopped, and the white oozed from your cunt. With a whimper, you rolled off his lap and collapsed into the crook of the sofa. Your chest heaved, sweat dripping down from every place it could.

Roman lifted his hips up to pull his trousers back up, tucking his softening cock into his briefs. He ran a hand through his hair before pushing himself up off the sofa, heading straight for the door. You straightened up, bringing a pillow to your stomach.

“Where are you going?” 

Coldly, he said: “I’ll see you tomorrow. Wear a dress.”

The door shut behind him. Tomorrow was Saturday. What did he mean by that? What was his fucking problem? God, you loved it.

[thehmn]

Just out of curiosity, do groups/nationalities in the US usually stick to specific naming conventions? I’m asking because whenever I name a character and say which country they’re from someone will say “But that’s an Italian name?” or “Why would they have a Jewish name?” which seems…odd to me?

For context, I’m from Denmark. I have a British name. My brother has a Swedish name. My sister has a Greek name. My dad had a German name. My mom has a Spanish name. My friend has a Jewish first AND last name despite having no Jewish family because her dad bought a random last name in his youth. I have Jewish ancestors but there’s nothing in any of my names to reflect that.

There are some names you’re unlikely to come across in certain areas but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. For example, Klaus is a German name that doesn’t stay within country borders but can be found in all the countries surrounding Germany and then some.

So I’m wondering if it’s a US thing to expect people to have names from the groups they come from or is it more of a story telling thing where everything about a character is supposed to have a deeper meaning?

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."

Warning: more religion 😬 depression, Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi appear. Jungkook in a towel 💦👅 finally a kiss (things from here happen quickly.) ATTENTION, THIS STORY IS NOT SLOWBURN.

A/N: Guys, I took a while this time for reasons of: laziness and discouragement. I wanted more people to read what I write, but I'm introverted even on the Internet, which leaves me with few alternatives to show my writing to the world. Thinking about it, I'm in trouble. Other than that, only a few days have passed, so everything is fine. Back to the story, everything starts to pick up pace. Just to repeat, the fanfic is not slowburn, so there will be smut in the next chapter. Stay tuned.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3

I spend the whole week riding an emotional rollercoaster. I find myself visiting my neighbor, Mrs. Jeon, more frequently than usual, and with each visit, our friendship blossoms deeper. She shares stories of her youth, of wild adventures and carefree days when she was my age. Her openness encourages me to share my own experiences–or rather, my lack of them. I recount my first disastrous kiss, confess that I've never been in love, and reveal how my once unshakeable faith in the church has wavered since my father's passing. I feel a weight lift off my shoulders; here, I am free to be imperfect, to be vulnerable, without fear of judgment.

Yet, there's one thing I keep to myself: the incident with her son, Jungkook, and the profound effect he has on me. Throughout all my visits, I never see him again. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I casually ask Mrs. Jeon where he is. She tells me that he moved and rented an apartment to avoid being a burden. He only spent the first night at home after his trip, and I remember that night well–from my window, of course–but I don't mention it. Disappointment settles in me like a stone; I long to see him again, but I focus on his mother instead. Having her to confide in is a relief, a breath of fresh air in my otherwise stifling life.

I patiently wait for her to open up about her own struggles, her depression, but she never does. I worry that I might know something I shouldn't, that perhaps she's not comfortable sharing with me. But I promise myself I'll keep her secret safe, no matter what. Today is Sunday, and I won't visit Mrs. Jeon since I'll see her at church. I'm excited–despite my mother making unnecessary comments and disturbing my peace of mind, I'll have someone to rely on.

I smooth down my dark brown dress, fixing my messy hair. I dab a bit of lipstick on my fingertips and press it onto my lips, careful not to overdo it. The truth is, I enjoy makeup, but I've never learned how to apply it properly. I feel embarrassed drawing attention to myself with bolder colors; after all, people are used to my lack of vanity. I sigh, steeling myself as I head downstairs to meet my mother.

She hasn't stopped talking about Jungkook. Unlike me, who had a good first impression, she despises him. She criticizes everything: his eyebrow piercing, his bold style, his tattoos, even the way he carries himself. I can't help but wonder if she accepted the dinner invitation just to analyze him, searching for flaws that exist only in her mind. She's been friends with Misuk since moving to town, and I want to believe–perhaps naively–that my mother doesn't have ulterior motives.

We arrive at church early, the space quiet with only a few members milling about. My mother drifts away to chat with the older congregation, and I find a seat, taking a deep breath. I scan the room for Mrs. Jeon but I don't see her. Since it's still early, I'm not too worried. I take a moment to read the Bible, reflecting on positive thoughts when I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder. I turn, and there he is–Jungkook, smiling brightly. I frown, almost convinced he's a mirage. Am I daydreaming?

"Hi Y/N, are you okay?" he asks softly, his lips brushing almost against my ear. His intense gaze locks with mine, and I'm relieved to be sitting down; my legs feel weak in his presence.

"Everything's fine," I reply, my eyes dropping to my fingers. I want to engage him, ask about his week, inquire how he's been, but the words stick in my throat. It's as though I can't act normally around him. I take a deep breath, mustering the courage to comment, "I didn't know you attended church."

"I don't," he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes. And rightly so; considering his clothes–a heavy leather jacket, shaved sides, and a wavy fringe–it's sexy but definitely not what you'd expect at church. "I haven't been since I was a kid."

"Really? Why?" I ask, genuinely curious, my gaze drawn to his eyebrow piercing, oddly captivating.

"I didn't feel welcome," he replies simply. There's no bitterness in his voice, and I understand all too well what he means. My mother, for example, was the first to judge him based on his appearance, and I can only imagine how difficult it is to feel at home in a place where you're not embraced.

"I understand," I say, unsure of what else to add. "So, you came here to give it another shot?"

"No way," he chuckles. "Actually, my mom mentioned you two planned to meet at church today."

"That's true," I confirm.

"Unfortunately, she can't make it today. She's not feeling well."

"Is she okay?" My concern surfaces immediately.

"She's fine, don't worry. Just a headache, and she took some medicine. She'll be better soon," he assures me, his hand lightly touching my shoulder. I can't help but notice how warm and gentle his touch is. I shake my head, trying to divert my thoughts from Jungkook's hands to anything else.

"I'm relieved to hear that," I smile, noticing the church is starting to fill up.

"I'm actually inviting some friends over to my apartment, and I wanted to know if you'd like to join us," he says, brushing his fingertips against his ear, a bit shy. I'm taken aback; I didn't expect this invitation. He wants me to come over with his friends?

"And why?" I ask, surprised. It's been a while since we last saw each other, and we haven't talked much even then.

"I like you. I want you to come so we can have fun."

"If this is some kind of payment, or something like that... you really don't need to." I reply, not believing it. I don't have friends, and the thought that he wants to be with me and the people he likes seems absurd to me.

"It's not that. I'm even a bit offended." He jokes, smiling. "I really want you to come, please."

"Jungkook... I don't know."

"I swear they're nice. Every time I'm in Busan, we hang out. They're trustworthy, I promise."

"I can imagine," I reply, still hesitant. I'd have to leave church, skip the service, and ask my mother for permission to go out with him, and of course, she wouldn't allow it. No way. It's not that I don't want to; I desperately want to spend time with him. That's been on my mind all week. "I don't think it's possible; my mom..."

"I know," he interjects, as if he anticipated my response. "But what if, just this once, you say you are going to my mom's? We could say I'm taking you there when in fact, you're coming to my apartment."

"Are you asking me to lie to my mother in a church?" I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. He shrugs, grinning.

"God knows it's just once," he replies confidently, pouting slightly. "What do you say? Later, I can take you to my mom's whenever you want, or you can stay at my apartment since I have more than one room. You set the time and conditions."

"Jungkook..." I groan, covering my face with my hands. The thought of lying to my mother, especially to go to a guy's house, sends a wave of anxiety through me. If she finds out, I'll be in big trouble.

"Come on! It'll be fun. I promise," he pleads softly. I can't say no to him, at least not now. I nod, agreeing to the madness.

"Okay, but you're the one who's going to talk to my mom. And if I say I want to leave, you agree. No alcohol because I know you drive. Those are my conditions," I assert, trying to sound firm. He smiles and salutes me, like a soldier receiving orders, and I slowly get up, taking small steps toward my mother. I let Jungkook lead the way, my nerves creeping back as I prepare to tell a lie in this sacred place.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Eunji. Good afternoon, everyone," he greets my mom and the other church members. My mother looks utterly shocked, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she takes in his appearance.

"Good afternoon, Jungkook," she replies, lacking enthusiasm, her gaze scanning him from head to toe. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to do a favor for my mom," he clarifies, and if I didn't know better, I'd almost believe him. "My mom asked Y/N to keep her company since my dad will be out of town for a few days. I came to pick her up."

"Really?" my mom looks at me, and I don't say anything, just nodding.

"It's true. My dad went to Daegu this weekend, and since my mom hasn't been feeling well, she asked Y/N to spend time with her. If you allow it, of course," he smiles calmly, and I brace myself waiting for my mother's response. I watch her weigh her options, glancing between Jungkook and me for what feels like an eternity before she sighs and nods.

"Alright, that's fine. Is your mom feeling okay?"

"Yes, she's getting better. Can we go now?" he asks, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Yes, you may go," my mom sighs, placing a hand on her forehead. "It's a shame you're missing the service today, Y/N. Next week, you'll definitely come, okay?"

"Yes, mom, for sure," I agree weakly, clearing my throat and avoiding her gaze, still stunned that she let me go to Jungkook's house. Well, not his house, but is practically the same thing.

"Shall we go, Y/N? My mom is waiting," Jungkook says, raising an eyebrow. I nod, still silent, as we make our way toward the exit.

Some people stare, especially the older members, who seem shocked by Jungkook's appearance–too conservative, in my opinion. Somehow, the situation feels even funnier. Once we're sure no one can see us anymore, I burst into laughter, clutching my stomach. Jungkook chuckles too, exhaling as if he's just finished a tough exam and is finally free.

"Your mom is tough, huh?" he laughs. "I thought she was going to kill me with her eyes."

"Sorry," I say, still giggling a little. "She's like that with everyone."

"Even with you?"

"Even with me," I nod. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we go to my apartment. My friends have the key, so they're probably already there."

"Don't tell me they're all guys," I groan, suddenly anxious. I hadn't considered that he might not have any female friends, and I'd be the only girl at the apartment if that were the case.

"No, relax! I have female friends too. You'll like them," he assures me, walking toward a sleek black car parked across the street. I know nothing about cars, but I can tell this one is expensive. I feel out of place, acutely aware that Jungkook lives in a different world, one that's far removed from my own.

The tension in the car is palpable as we drive. The ride feels like it takes forever, the windows closed, and I'm intoxicated by his scent. I discreetly watch his large hands on the wheel, the way his long fingers tap rhythmically against the leather seat. I have to swallow hard to keep from drooling over him. I'm starving–not for food, but for him. All week, I've yearned to be near him, to touch him. I think I'm suffering from a Jungkook overdose, craving something I haven't even tasted yet.

I ponder whether he's aware of the effect he has on me, but I like to believe he hasn't noticed. It's easier that way. I breathe slowly, attempting to relax in my seat. It takes another ten minutes before Jungkook opens the gate to a condo with a small remote and drives in slowly. His car fits the place perfectly. Everything is stunning and upscale. I glance at my clothes and regret agreeing to come. Why did I say yes? I don't know his friends, and I don't know Jungkook that well, aside from the overwhelming attraction I feel toward him. What do I actually know about him? That he's a tattoo artist from Seoul? That he's rich and hasn't set foot in a church since childhood? I feel like I've walked into a situation that's spiraling out of control.

"Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You went quiet all of a sudden," he asks, concern etched on his face.

"I'm fine. Just feeling a bit strange," I admit.

"Why?"

"I don't know," I confess, omitting my paranoid thoughts. "I always feel like this in new places."

"I get that. I feel that way too," he tells me as we step into the parking elevator. I follow him, digesting this new revelation.

"You seem so confident and social," I comment, genuinely amazed. His big eyes meet mine as the elevator rises, floors passing by in a blur.

"I know, it seems that way. But in reality, I'm quite introverted. I have a small circle of friends and prefer it that way. I just fake it really well," he shares, and I find myself wanting to know more about the person behind the confident exterior.

"Really?" I ask, intrigued.

"Yeah," he nods, his expression earnest.

I try to respond, but the elevator stops on a floor, and Jungkook smiles at me, indicating that this is the right place. I feel one of his hands gently touch my waist, guiding me to a white door. I have to take a deep breath to keep from freaking out, my sweaty, trembling hands hidden in my pocket. I hear different music from the other side of the door before the place fully opens up to us.

"Hey, he's here! Finally, Jungkook!" I hear a male voice. It's a guy around Jungkook's age, I realize as soon as we walk in. His hair is a dark red, and his skin is pale and smooth. It's no surprise that his arms are covered in tattoos, drawings and phrases I can't read so far away. He also watches me closely, smiling warmly.

"Guys, this is YN, the one I told you about," Jungkook introduces me with a smile.

I turn red because there are at least seven people staring at me from head to toe. The apartment is well-kept, with dark wooden furniture. The living room is immaculate, with abstract paintings and photos of Jungkook and his family on the walls. I don't have much time to take everything in as my eyes focus on Jungkook's friends, who are strangers to me so far. Saying they're different from me would be an understatement.

They all have many tattoos and wear dark clothing. I sense an aura of confidence from all of them, but never hostility. It's as if they're very similar to Jungkook, with a completely different exterior from their inner selves. I relax a bit, smiling warmly and putting on my best expression.

"Nice to meet you all," I say, feeling a bit shy. They stand up and smile at me.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Yoongi. That's my girlfriend, Minji," says the red-haired guy, pointing to the woman who just smiles. I offer my hand, feeling his cold skin from the beer bottle he was holding earlier.

"I'm Bora, and this is my boyfriend, Jimin," one of the dark-haired women greets me next, pointing to her boyfriend. They're a good-looking couple, the kind you see in magazines. Jimin has the brightest and most open smile.

"Nice to meet you," I nod.

"I'm Taehyung, but you can call me Tae," one of the guys says, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm Yoori, Tae's girlfriend. Nice to meet you," she winks, making me laugh.

"And I'm Hayun, the only single one in the group," one of the girls shakes my hand, pulling me into a hug. She kisses my cheek, making her presence increasingly noticeable.

"Hayun, you're only single because you want to be, come on," Bora rolls her eyes. Hayun laughs, grabbing a snack from the coffee table.

"I like being single, except when I'm surrounded by couples. Especially couples like you guys."

"Do you have a boyfriend, Y/N?" Jimin asks. Embarrassed, I shake my head.

"No," I reply. They seem surprised, making noises with their mouths.

"But Jungkook is single too, right?" The guy with dark hair says, drinking his beverage. I thinks his name is Tae, if I remember right.

"And I want to keep that way." Jungkook replys.

"Of course you do." Yoongi laughs along with his friends, rolling his eyes. I remain silent, not understanding the joke. Then Yoongi looks at me and seems to notice my confusion. "Y/N, Jungkook never dates. The only time he tried, it went so wrong that now he doesn’t want to do it again."

"It was a disaster." Yoori adds, as if telling a fictional story. Jungkook rolls his eyes, sighing, but his friend continues: "he’s been avoiding relationships like the devil avoids the cross since then."

"Really?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It’s not true, Y/N." Jungkook smiles at me. "They’re idiots."

"That’s not a lie." Minji, who had been silent until then, clarifies. "He’s been asked out several times, and he always declines. Women go crazy for him, for some reason."

"I know what the reason is." Jimin laughs mischievously, suggesting something while raising an eyebrow. I turn red when they laugh at the joke. Jungkook doesn’t contest it, too busy eating one of the snacks on the table. "But what about you, Y/N? Have you ever dated before?"

"Never." I reply. They don't look surprised this time.

"So you're like Jungkook, who avoids relationships?" Bora asks with a laugh. I feel Jungkook's eyes on me, watching attentively for my response. I shake my head, feeling awkward.

"No, actually, it's just a lack of options," I clarify, deciding to be honest. I hold my hands together nervously.

"Now you have two options," Yoongi suggests with a chuckle. Minji hits his arm trying to stop him, but he continues: "There's Hayun, since she likes to try out a little bit of everything, like some pussy and shit."

"Oh!" I widen my eyes, shocked, as they laugh even more. It's the first time I've seen someone speak so openly like this. Embarrassed, I look at Hayun, but she doesn't seem to mind the comment, laughing with the others.

"Who would be the other option?" Taehyung asks his friend with his trademark grin.

"Our friend Jungkook, obviously," Yoongi clarifies, and I choke on the answer, coughing uncontrollably.

They laugh even more, watching me nearly suffocate from the joke. Jungkook pats my back, smiling widely. His thumb caresses the skin of my arm, waiting for me to calm down. We're so close that he inadvertently wraps one of his arms around my shoulder. I'm shocked and even more unsettled. For me, physical contact beyond my mom is rare. Hugs, affection... I'm just not used to it.

"Are you okay?" he asks amidst his friends' chatter. I nod, staring at my hands. "Sorry about Yoongi; he always makes these kinds of jokes. He doesn't mean any harm."

"It's fine," I assure him, feeling awkward, unable to look into his eyes. "I actually liked everyone."

"Really?" he asks, bringing his nose close to my hair. My whole body shivers as I realize he's smelling my perfume, giving a satisfied smile when he pulls away. "Good to know."

I stay silent, feeling his warm breath near me. Jungkook removes his arm from my shoulder, but his skin still brushes against mine when he takes off his heavy jacket, leaving him in just a T-shirt. His friends are fun and involve me in the conversation, making me feel comfortable, but the truth is that having Jungkook so close drives me crazy and I can't pay much attention. I wonder how long I'll feel this way about him. Will this strong effect never go away? This is the third time we've met, but something tells me that no matter how many times I see him-be it two times or a thousand-my heart will always race whenever he gets close and smiles at me.

I don't even notice the time passing and only realize it's late when Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung offer to take their girlfriends home, along with Hayun, who complains about not having anyone waiting for her at her apartment. Everyone leaves until only Jungkook and I remain. He promised to take me to his mother's house if I wanted, but I'm hesitant to ask as it's quite likely Mrs. Jeon is already asleep by now.

"Y/N, do you want me to get a towel for you?" Jungkook asks, tidying up the living room. I'm confused, picking up some empty soju bottles his friends drank to throw away.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not going to stay here?" he asks, furrowing his brow.

"Not really?" I laugh, then realize I might have been a bit rude, so I rephrase my response. "I mean, I don't think so. I don't want to be a bother."

"It's no bother. If you want, you can take a shower in my bathroom and sleep in the guest room." He offers with a smile. I bite my lower lip, unsure what to decide. I want to stay here, but it's just him and me now; is it really the right thing to do? It doesn't matter, Y/N. Just for one night.

"Okay then. Do you have a toothbrush, please?"

"Of course I do. Come with me, I'll get the stuff for you to use the bathroom." He calls me with a smile and walks down the long hallway. We pass by a few doors until we reach his room. My throat goes dry as my eyes scan the new space. His bed is large and covered with a dark gray blanket. The walls are white and everything is very organized, with a laptop next to the wardrobe and a fluffy black rug on the floor. His scent is everywhere, almost as if I'm breathing him. I clutch my hands together nervously about being alone with Jungkook in such an intimate space. He reappears after going to the closet, holding a white towel and some cotton clothes.

"You can take a shower in my bathroom while I use the guest one," he says, placing the items in my hands.

"Jungkook, that's not necessary..."

"Don't worry. I want you to be comfortable." He says before I can argue. His satisfied smile makes me not deny it again, happy to receive so much care from him. I just nod, agreeing. "The toothbrush is in the cabinet by the sink, in the package. You can open it, okay?"

"Okay, thank you very much." I smile before he walks down the hallway. I head to the door leading to the bathroom and sneak into the new space. I start thinking Jungkook has no flaws.

The place is as clean as the rest of the apartment, which makes me curious; does he clean everything himself, or does he hire someone to keep it tidy? I slowly take off my dress, grabbing my phone to text my mom and let her know I'm okay. I feel bad for lying, but the night was so good that I can't truly regret it. If I had to lie, to meet these same people, I would do it again. Thinking this surprises me, because just a few hours ago, I didn't think this way. The shower has a strong hot jet of water that massages my whole body, and it's so good that I have to convince myself to finish the shower and put on the clothes, trying to be done before Jungkook.

I brush my teeth quickly, smelling my skin that's still male fragrant with the liquid soap. I smile at myself in the mirror, brushing my hair with my fingers, trying to manage the unwashed strands. I open the bathroom door carefully, trying not to make too much noise and disturb the neighbors at this hour, when I see Jungkook again, this time only in a towel. I hold onto the doorframe, barely able to stand. A voice in my head tells me I shouldn't be watching him naked again and that I should turn around, go back into the bathroom, and pretend nothing happened, but I can't. I simply can't anymore. His muscular, wet back is in my field of vision as he searches for clothes. At that moment, my brain turns to mush and I decide to say what's been stuck in my throat.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" I muster the courage to ask him but I regret it immediately. What the hell am I doing? Jungkook turns slowly and the view from the front is a thousand times better than from the back. His whole body glistens in the light of the room, and his tattoos have never been so vivid. His body is muscular, virile and strong. I gonna lose my mind! Feeling new sensations I've never experienced for anyone before.

"Y/N?" He whispers my name with that soft voice he used when we first met. He doesn't seem surprised or embarrassed, which makes me even more unsettled.

"You're doing this on purpose, Jungkook?" I ask again. I have no idea where I got such courage and I don't know how long it will last. My heart feels like it's going to leap out of my chest. My whole body is on edge and sweating. I feel my hands trembling as I swallow hard. "You're trying something? I mean... you're not wearing clothes again and..."

"What do you think, Y/N?" he retorts suddenly, with a hoarse, deep voice. His eyes wander from my head to toes, as he raises an eyebrow along with his piercing, with a smirk at the corner of his mouth. My legs turn to weak twigs immediately, ready to collapse.

"I-I don't know." I stammer as he takes one step, then two and three, getting closer and closer to me.

"When I arrived from my trip to Busan, on the first day, I was tired and exhausted," he tells me, taking another step. I start to run out of breath, anxious and aroused. My cheeks flush as he speaks more slowly. "All I wanted was to rest and sleep the whole night, but that night I couldn't, not for an hour. Do you know why?"

"N-no..." I moan softly as his chest presses against mine. His warm, wet skin makes contact with mine, and I no longer know where I begin or end, pressed against his body. His pink lips curl into a wicked smile, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to me and it's all intentional. I shiver as his free hand moves up my wrist and grips the back of my neck firmly, making my eyes focus on his mouth and then his dark, deep eyes.

"A woman, next window, taking off all her damn clothes, completely shameless," he growls, pulling my neck closer to his face and pressing his lips to my ear. My spine tingles as I feel his teeth on my earlobe, in a bite that doesn't hurt but damn, it makes me shiver. My body contracts once and twice, and I know exactly what I'm feeling now: desire. The kind I feel occasionally when I try to touch myself alone and can't reach climax. The feeling I only have when I'm alone and confortable in my bed, trying to use my imagination even with the lack of real experience, but this is real, and it is infinitely better than what my mind could create.

"It was an accident, Jung..." I try to say, but my voice doesn't come out. The tip of his nose travels along a sensitive spot behind my ear, one I didn't even know existed, slowly moving down my jawline, discovering new paths. His hand tightens around my waist, keeping me in place, immobile.

"It may be that you didn't notice, Y/N, but I know you were watching me, even while I was undressing, even when you had every opportunity to stop." He argues with a smile, as someone who knows what they're doing and enjoys seeing the result. "And you know what's worse...? The worst thing is knowing the effect you have on me. From the first time I saw you in my house, with your innocent and curious eyes. I can't get you out of my damn head. Your mouth, your scent..."

"J-Jungkook... please." I beg, closing my eyes tightly. And I know what I want. I want him, since the first time I saw him. Since my eyes met his, I desired him so strongly that I couldn't think straight. He pulls away just a little, and I almost moan in a plea for him not to go. He sighs, pressing his forehead to mine.

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" he asks in a very soft voice, and I nod because, despite all the things I believe in–God, hell, heaven and even my mother–nothing has ever been as adored as Jungkook. Since I met him, inexplicably, I only think about him, like a spell unable to contemplate of any other answer besides yes. I look at his eyes as they travel to my mouth, and I lower mine to his, exhilarated by that pink that only exists in him.

I move closer, my lips almost touching his, feeling the warmth of his breath. "Just kiss me, please." I murmur scared of what I'm doing; temptation clear in every word. And then he does.

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

@ane102 @ttipa @joonwater

[canvaswolfdoll]

so, when i have to kill time at work, i occasionally find myself looking up baseball teams. not actually watching baseball or doing particularly deep research, but i'll chase curiosities about japanese baseball and minor american leagues.

and you want to know what's currently happening with the minor league (hence milb)?

they've expanded from 120 teams to 121

the newest team?

the malmö oat milkers!

which is... a very brave thing to name your team.

and i'm sure you're wondering where malmö is. certainly odd for a us town to feature a diaeresis, i'll bet that town has an interesting history!

oh, it's named for a swedish city. so... where are the oat milkers actually based out of?

wait, can you elaborate on what this means?

oh. the oat milkers don't actually exist in a sort of 'everyone are the oat milkers' type of way.

so oatly, an oat milk company, has paid off the major leagues to create a virtual minor league baseball team. which is insane, but baseball teams are actually owned by major corporations in the background so at least there's a sort of... honesty* to this advertising stunt?

but also zero dollars from this deal goes to the actual minor league teams themselves, despite not being allowed to opt out of playing a game as and against the oat milkers, so it's all corrupt.

also i can't find any oat milkers merch online, so what's even the point if i can't get a baseball cap and/or jersey that says 'oat milkers'!?

-

* the japanese leagues (the npb) notably integrate the parent companies into the names, which is how you get the yomiuri giants and the nippon-ham fighters

[transparencyboo]

A Ghost. Forever.

I've been thinking recently about that strange disconnect to my past I have earned as a trans person. When I was 16 years old I graduated from my old school (as per the Swedish education system), leaving behind over a decade together with classmates I had known for practically my entire life at that point. I bumped into one or two in public during the following year or so, but it's been 15 years since I heard anything from any of them. Contact networks change, people go their separate ways, time moves on, etc. That's a regular part of life.

Still, those connections are formative ones. These were people I used to call friends, although in hindsight I think of them more as mutuals – acquaintances. We didn't share more than broad interests, every now and then we got into fights, some hurt me quite a lot, but in an awkward sense I know a part of my soul is connected to these people through a substantially shared past.

Sometimes I remember them with fondness, other times with anger. And then I realize all I have left of them are frozen snapshots that have remained unchanged since June 2008. I moved on, went out into the world, visited new places, met new people, I never ever returned. Some part of me imagines that I could walk back to our old school, step into one of the classrooms and see their ghosts waiting for me.

"You are late." "Where have you been all this time?" "Now, where were we?"

But I understand that's not true, they too have lived full rich lives ever since our last shared moment. I remember a lot of names, I can search them online and find the traces. Privated Facebook accounts, superficial Linked In pages, the odd Instagram profile. Everyone looks frighteningly adult, like they somehow lived at least ten more years than me. They got old, but I believe they're doing well.

I'm sure one or two of them have shared this curiosity and occasionally peeked at the glimpses of each others lives. Except mine.

All ties to the past have been severed. Many years ago I came out as trans, changed all of my personal info and got a new ID. My old name, my old identity, has been wiped off the face of the Earth. If someone where to look for that person they would find less than nothing. A ghastly absence. Of course, everyone of any importance to me knows about this change. I never disappeared, I am still here. But to the outsiders with nothing more than a faded memory and an outdated name, I must simply have vanished into thin air.

In the beginning, I took relief in this. "Now, no one will ever find me again. I won't have to deal with some awkward school reunion. They can't touch me anymore." But now I'm not so sure. I've changed so much, and discovered so much about myself. The idea that two dozen people are still walking around out there with vividly detailed conceptions of me based on nothing but a long forgotten and rejected past feels wrong. It feels perverted. But that's the price you pay. In exchange for becoming my real self, I allowed those strangers to keep me as a frozen snapshot.

June 2008. 16 years old. Forever.

But does it have to be that way? Can I not mend this? Suddenly I want nothing more in the world. I want to show these people what became of me. How much I grew. Maybe I want to prove myself? I had the grandest adventure, I learned the most about myself, I completed my metamorphosis, no change was as drastic as mine, I won. They become involuntary ambassadors for everything I resent about my old self. I reduce these regular people to demons of all my buried insecurities and bottled up doubt. Little perpetual 16 year old brats. As dehumanized by our separation as I fear myself to be. How I hate them. How I hate that I hate them.

Of course I could solve this. It's laughably simple. I can reach out, try to reestablish contact. I certainly have the means.

"Hello, you might not remember me. We went to school together. I changed my name since then, though. Yes, I'm trans. Yes, I was in the closet even back then. I just wanted someone, anyone, to know. How have you been?"

I seriously thought about this. It's a scary move, I know nothing about how these people are now. Maybe they remember me with contempt as a collage of only their absolute worst memories? Maybe they've grown to be bigots eager to harass the unwitting victim landing in their lap? Maybe they don't remember me at all? Maybe they don't care?

Maybe I don't want to talk to any of these people?

In my mind I quickly narrowed it down to one person who I would feel the most safe and willing to reach out to. The last feasible bridge to my past. The one person I could still imagine being my friend after all these years. I'd known her since preschool. She was always really smart, we were always on good terms, but never really hung out together. We were merely in the same friend group. She was one of the few people I'd stumbled into past graduation. We had sporadically discussed music over MSN. When I was 17 years old she relayed an invitation for me to go to a punk show with her. She had said I was so kind. I neglected the offer. I deeply regret this. Not because I'd expect anything for showing up; anything but, I was already taken. It just felt rude of me. Maybe who I was back then wanted to sever my last connection to the past? Maybe who I am now wants to apologize more than anything? I realize of all the people from my old life, she would have the most unique last impression. As this distant, faceless loner holed up in a dark bedroom. Hopelessly unwilling to do anything at all. To be anything at all.

17 years old. Forever.

I decide it's no good. I don't actually feel strongly about this and I can't imagine she would either. It's been 15 years, any semblance of remorse is long gone. That version of me doesn't exist anymore, that version of her doesn't exist anymore. There is nothing to salvage, nothing to mend. I left all of that behind half my life ago. The past is gone.

I have nothing to say to whoever this person is now.

So I will remain as I was for all of those people. A skewed shadow of the truth. They will never know the real me. It is not my responsibility to reconnect and inform them about what I've been up to. I don't owe them anything. I can't get hung up on my imagination of what imagined specters would imagine me to be. This reflects more about me than anyone else. I am mourning my unfulfilled potential. Projecting it upon the memories that will never go away.

I just fear that one day my old classmates will arrange a school reunion. They'll all find each other with ease, but be stumped by my absence. They'll believe I'm dead. Died young as nothing but their incomplete picture of who I was. Perhaps at least one of them would have the detective knowhow to contact my parents and ask about me, so they could find me, discover my miraculous change and invite me to show who I finally became. I could complete the fragmented part of my childhood and finally illuminate my shadow. I could stop this looming feeling from growing ever larger with each year. But I'm not holding out hope. For all I know this reunion has already taken place. They held a silent moment for my unknown demise and promptly forgot all about me. Without ever knowing who I could've been, who I became.

A ghost. Forever.

/Kiki

[streets-in-paradise]

The Halls of Freya - Thor x (Fem)Vanir!Reader

Warnings: Pre vanishment Thor is quite insistent in his seek to pursue the reader.

Summary: The calm expected for your studying visit to the Aesir gods gets somehow ruined by the intense appreciation of your looks that many began to show you, Prince Thor being the most devoted among your admirors.

With his coronation expected to happen soon, he is determined on the idea of marrying you to make you his queen. Despite facing your subtle rejection over and over, nothing shakes him out of that certainty. Still, he can't help to notice and misinterpretate your friendlyness towards Loki in contrast to the responses he himself has obtained from you.

Slightly jealous of his brother for the first time in his life, he drags him to cooperate in his plan seeking the advice of the goddess of love.

Note: Inspired by this and the swedish song i'm linking below. Full english translation of the lyrics can be found here.

Tags: @thorsslxve

All guests were granted respect and peace in the magnifical asgardian palace, but your arrival seemed to be an exception on the second aspect. As a vanir lady of high nobility, some didn't believe or cared to consider your visit was not essentially social. Adquiring knowledge in the greatest of the Nine Realms, the political center of your universe, was your main goal, but quite many asgardian men had other things in mind when it came to your realm.

Beautifull women, Vanaheim would be forever associated with the looks of Freya in their public conciousness and most Vanir women would get submitted to that image. Asgardian warriors were trying to approach you in herds, scandal spontaneously created on the assumptions typically associated with your origin. Nobody wanted to miss the chance to get a first look of your face and you haven't had dissapointed them.

Prince Loki was the onlyone who remained unimpressed and mocked the situation, winning some of your simpathy from that simple action. Unlike the others, he did acknowledge that Vanir women were also remarkable in the fields of sorcery and divination. Freya herself had shared many magical secrets with the Aesir, matter that should have been as famous across Yggdrasil as her splendid looks were.

From all the fields in magic commonly attributed to the Vanir, your strenght was nature. Completely opposite styles, since yours valued prosperity over power, but Loki was kindly cordial with you as you acknowledged his vastly superior skill. He didn't mind indulging your curiosity from time to time, given that you would pay him with flattery. In that particular context, it was a source of pride for him among all the other asgardians who, unlike him, did want you and were trying to impress you.

His brother, the first of them all.

Thor had been very vocal about his infatuation from the very first moment that he saw you. His whimsical, unstoppable will to chase you was frankly admirable.

Stubborness and chivalry walked hand in hand, managing to either humor you or exasperate you whenever he was near. The eldest prince couldn't stand being ignored and ruining your focus had become his new favorite sport.

" My fairest lady, aren't you bored of your loneliness? " He distracted you once more as you intended to read, making you loose in the sentence. " I believe you won't discover the wonders of my realm hidding your divine face behind that book … Come with me so i can show those to you."

Tempting offer followed by his most charming smile, but you declined.

" Studying is my purpose, Prince Thor. I'm currently more invested in the books on your library than in the contemplation of your glorious looks, and i intend to keep it that way. "

You completed your rejectment with a kind smile, showing it wasn't personal.

" But you must be suffering!" He insisted. " Trapped as you are behind walls, missing the light and the green grasslands of Vanaheim."

You sighed of exahustion, but your eyes were back on him and that was what he wanted to achieve.

" That's why I like to study in the gardens, but your even more frequent visits there have made it impossible."

Thor approached you with hurted innocence, sitting ríght next to you.

" Can I be blamed for feeling curious about the visitor that has deservedly awakened such fascination among my men?" He wondered out loud in sweet whispers. " … Only the race of Freya could have produced a woman so fair, so pridefull. You have mezmerized me and it's with great sorrow that I lament to find your glance fleeing from mine. "

You finnally closed the book.

" I'm here for wisedown, not searching for a man."

The straightfold answer wasn't what he wanted to hear.

" Had a frost giant iced your heart? " He dramatically inquirred. " Mine is burning of love for you, consuming in the wait to make you mine."

His lovely face accompanied the passion of his statement. You could tell he was craving for you to give in so he could break the short distance between you with a kiss.

" I know what you must have heard of us, but not all Vanir women are passionate lovers. "

Nothing could have prepared you for what he had to say about that.

" We will put that on test once you become my queen."

An increíble surprise impossible to hide had caused you to run out of comebacks.

Fortunately someone else granted you one.

" There are two problems with that statement. " Loki pridefully pointed out, approaching him from behind." Father hasn't abdicated the throne in your favor yet, and she is too clever to stand an engagement to you given the volatile nature of your desires."

The god of mischief had found a subtle way of calling him a spoiled brat without it sounding like an offense and for that he made you chuckle.

" Don't listen to my brother's mockery. " Thor defended himself, too focused on you to replicate directly to Loki. " You must trust me. "

" I don't trust any of you. " You mischievously recalled, glancing at the dark haired god, then back at him. " The lady of the shining necklace is very wary of Loki as well, tales circulate in Vanaheim about the tribulations he had repeatedly brought to her. "

You eyes were fixated on Thor as you finished the sentence.

" … Many times, mediating in absurd demmands of marriage from other men."

Loki couldn't beat the allegations, a conversation with Freya was all would be needed to confirm the veracity of those stories.

" Fair enough, that reputation is deserved."

On that you had a specific point to make.

" Just to be clear: you won't get me for him the way you got him the hammer. "

Your acknowledgement of his role in the chain of events was a nice surprise for him, but upsetted his brother.

" I won my ríght to Mjolnir the same way I know I will win your affections. " Thor stated with determination. " Fighting, proving that i'm the best. "

" In that you are mistaken, prince." You coldly corrected, temporally loosing some of your usual politeness. " I'm not a prize for you to win. Even if you believe my beauty is the blessing of Freya's race, you are not entitled to it. "

Far away from being genuinely hurted by the callout, he kept looking at you with adoration.

" I never said i was, but I know you will be my wife. I can feel it, even if you can't currently see it. "

The statement weirded you a bit, so you joked about it.

" Nobody ever told me that the Son of Odin was a seer. "

" Not a seer, a fool. " Loki commented. " He apparently loves to make a fool of himself for you. "

Thor blatantly ignored him, as if the whole world ended in you.

" I will make you fall for me, I promise you that. " He insisted one last time, ríght before holding your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles. " We will be blissfully married, you will be the most stunning queen Asgard has ever seen and I will be your enamored king."

The way in which his blue eyes shined while looking at you said even more than his words. Smiling was like an involuntary reflex for you and he took that as a good sign.

" She can't see it now, but she will be my wife. " He commented to Loki with excitement as soon as you left. " I have a good feeling, brother. She is the one, I must find a way to her heart. "

Loki had quickly realized he was asking for advice because he didn't have the slightlest idea of how to deal with rejectment and refused to face it. Even if it would be just for that, he was very happy with your arrival into their lives. The arrogance and lack of self awareness were still there, but Thor was stumbling with negatories for the first time in his life. For once he had a hard time getting what he wanted and Loki was thrilled to witness it.

" You can always ask your Vanir friend about the courting rituals their women prefer. " He suggested. " Hogun is your closest source, it's his own culture. And he is your only hope, because Fandral has already failed on his own despite being an expert on the matter. "

The blond god smiled as if an insane idea had just occured to him.

A Vanir expert on the matters of love was who he needed as advisor.

" No, no ,no. I know that look. We can't ask her more favors! " Loki stopped him ríght away. " We had terrible experiences in the past, she associates us with anger and annoyance. I wouldn't bother her if it wasn't extremely necesary. "

Thor was careless for the warning.

" She is the greatest expert. Only she can reveal me the secret to win the affections of my beloved. "

The halls of Freya had to welcome him because Thor was welcome anywhere in Asgard. Even if it was true that the splendid goddess had been wrongfully involved in some of his adventures with Loki, she didn't personally despise him for that. However, he was ríght in one detail: they did have the tendency of annoying her to the core. Everytime they had come to her with a problem of theirs, Freya had found herself regretting the help to some extent.

One look at your face was enough for him to toss aside any consideration of risk. At that moment, there was nothing he desired more than your love. The fact that Loki seemed to be your favorite of both had awakened a bit of jealousy in him. You were going to be his, he had no doubt of that, but his brother got an easier time getting closer to you. It was clear that you were friendly to each other in a way that excluided him. In practice, it was more like the difference Loki himself had experienced in his interactions with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, but it didn't look like that to him.

In fact, Thor was so unused to being treated like that it was quite hard for him. His brother had no friends of his own, reason why he lacked practice as the brother awkwardly engaging in the meetings of a friend group that wasn't really his. He felt left behind whenever you would show to have your own inner jokes with Loki among other signs of your bond in development.

Desperate as he was for your attention, he failed to understand why his brother had more of it even if he knew that he didn't fancy you. Instead of cooperating with his cause, Loki amused himself with jokes at his expense and, for so, he would have to join him in the resolution of his romantical quest.

They reached the magnificent main hall on her asgardian palace, but Freya didn't receive them directly. Instead, her cats inspected the visitors ahead. One passed by Thor with gallant pace and rubbed the head against his leg, but the one that intended to do the same on Loki hissed as soon as his scent was recognized.

" I told you it wasn't a good idea. " The god whispered as they both watched the cat leave in a run. " Clearly, she hasn't forgot of my involvement in all those improvised bargains with lustfull giants desperate to have her. "

" You have paid the price, so did I." Thor calmed him. " If I once had almost considered trading her as ransom for Mjolnir, the sacrifice I endured to avoid it was enough to be forgiven."

Loki wasn't going to let that chance to make fun of him slip away.

" Maybe you should ask her to borrow you her magical necklace again. It's granted that the girl won't stop looking at you if you wear it for her. "

Thor wanted to reply to such shamefull provocation, but he was interrumpted by the sound of a femminine voice approaching. The chant of the lady spoke of a sorceress pridefull rejecting the advances of a flirtatious king in a refined comedical way.

" Lucky of you. " Loki pointed out on the irony. " She seems to be in a good mood today. "

Freya was soon in front of them in all her radiant beauty, but when she saw them, she wasn't happy.

" What have you done this time?" She inmediately questioned them, fearing a disaster. " Unless the frost giants are already on the way, i'm not borrowing you my cloak ever again. "

Gesturally contaning his brother, Loki attempted to save the situation speaking ahead of him.

" Worry not, stunning Freya, since our concerns aren't a matter threatening the gods. I come to you humbly, on behalf of a man suffering for love. "

The eyes of the goddess were like daggers pointed at him.

" You always do, better this not be another of your trade offers. " She warned him, then glanced back at Thor. " It looks like your brother is the suffering lover. "

The god of thunder smiled at her, pleased of being guessed so accurately.

" I'm hopelessly infatuated of the young maiden who has followed you from your homeland. " He began to explain. " … She is the sweetest one this realm has ever known, beautifull like in the most pleasant of dreams, but extremely difficult for my reach. "

Freya wasn't surprised by the confession. Everyone was somewhat aware of how intensely he wanted you, the rarity was to find him admitting he was failing on the conquest.

The goddess of love recognized the desperation in his eyes because she was one of the few that knew it well. She have already seen it many times.

" It's only logical: she is a good representative of everything Vanaheim stands for, as you are for Asgard. " She informed him. " Frey cherishes her, he has practically raised her. From him she had learned the secrets of our kind, and the light magic of the elves in Alfheim. You know well that my brother is a warrior and a lover alike. He has taugh her according to his values: peacefull rullership, love for nature, selfless love and will of sacrifice. "

Her words were indirectly putting in doubt the posibility that Thor possessed such qualities.

" … (y/n) loves Gerd as a mother, and as you know, she isn't a goddess." Freya added, taunting polemic. " My brother gave his sword for the chance of marrying a giantess. This is the image of love she grew up admiring and I doubt she would settle for any less. "

In case he could mix up the interpretation of her words to satisfy his whim, she got very clear with a determinating example showing him the practical translation for his case.

" Would you trade Mjolnir for her, Thor? Ask yourself that, even if she won't demmand you to do it, for this kind of devoted love is the only way to her heart."

The two gods were silenced, shocked by drastically different reasons.

" At least it's most likely that means she isn't currently in love with Loki." Thor finally concluded, refusing to get disencouraged. " He has always jested Frey about his choice, called him a fool for trading his best weapon for a wife. "

In another occasion, that could have accidentally unleashed an argument between Loki and Freya.

The Vanir lady laughed to the assumption and the youngest prince wasn't comfortable with that.

" Excuse me? " The god of mischief stopped the thunder god. " Is that what you think it's happening? "

" She is always so sweet to you! Even when you tease each other, she doesn't mean it with you the same way it falls on me. "

" How?" Loki complained, starting a fight with him instead. " How could you possibly believe that she has fallen for me ? "

" She treats me differently, like if I don't belong among you, and I can't stand it. "

Loki wished he could have openly laughed to his face, the irony was too strong to handle.

Freya read it on his eyes and calculated her strike.

" It's just an affinity, and it doesn't surprise me as much as it should. Your jealousy is pointless, we know he isn't good at keeping friendships. Sooner or later his trickery will damage her and it will fall apart. "

" I shall not be blamed for causing curiosity on her, since your foolish brother has only taught her of light magic and growing plants. " The youngest Aesir Prince defended himself from the provocation. " I bet the girl came to Asgard hoping to learn some real magic. "

For the honor of her brother, the goddess forgot to measure her words carefully.

" Gerd must have showed her some tricks I know you will love. " She coldly sentenced, mentioning the giantess on purpose.

Freya's rage didn't find its límit on Loki, her patience had ran out for both brothers.

" And to you I say: If you don't want to get treated like my old giant suitors, you shall stop behaving like one of them."

The comparison was an offense too great for Thor to tolerate.

" THAT'S ABSURD!!! HOW AM I IN ANY WAY ALIKE TO THOSE MONSTERS??"

His stubborness had awakened her combative spirit.

" Every single day during his worktime here the builder of the asgardian wall used to arrogantly brag to me claiming I was going to be his wife. EVERY-SINGLE-DAY! LOOK HOW FAR THAT GOT HIM! ARE YOU HOPING TO SUCCEED WHERE HE FAILED? "

Circunstantially careless for the presence of his brother, Freya grabbed Thor by the jaw so he would look at her closely as she finished her advice, hoping the words would stick with him.

"Do you think it will work out for you based only on the fact that you are a well spoken and handsome prince? Do you sincerely believe that would make ANY difference? I have rejected towsands like you, not all of them were disgusting ogres.Toss your pride aside and humbly court her with true sweetness instead of this gallant simulation of admiring respect that's nothing but pure arrogance. "

To soften things, she caressed his cheek as she released the grip on his face before providing some encouragement.

" I believe in your good heart, and that's what you should be presenting to her."

The advice was brutal, but very wise. Still, Thor wasn't sure of how much of it was genuine and not only a product of Freya's anger, that he guessed was caused by his brother. Only one thing had been tranquilizing and that was knowing you weren't developing feelings for Loki.

However, the desperation that the trickster god sensed on him under that assumption was an interesting discovery. Thor had kept that small seed of secret distress well hidden untill Freya exposed him. Following the core of the reasoning she presented to them, Loki would gladly assume the role of the servant Skirnir and get him the girl if Thor would grant him a similar reward. Not a magical weapon that time, but the throne of Asgard. He did wonder if his brother could be that foolish, an ever greater fool than Frey ever was in his eyes. Answers eventually came to him when he saw the awe in his expression as he discovered you singing in the gardens of the palace.

Days before the date meant for Thor's coronation, you were trying to cheer up Loki because you were the only one finding his disdain for the situation relatable. While he resented not being the choosen one of his father, you lammented being chosen by his brother. You didn't despise him or deeply resented his interest as completely unwanted, but you knew that once Thor would be crowned king there would be no way out for you. No escape from him, with all the implications that had, and not hating him didn't mean feeling comfortable with a marriage to him.

Frey would come to congratulate the new king and he would have to stay to witness your wedding, so proud that the child he raised has become Queen of Asgard. King Odin himself was the onlyone capable of stopping that madness, maybe moved by the reminder of Gerd indirectly linking you to the giants. That hope was lost when you heard him comment that the peacefull inclinations of a Vanir under the influence of Frey were good balance for Thor's war driven spirit.

Loki was your only hope.

In remembrance of the old stories, you ended up asking him if he could come up with a trick to save you just like all those times he saved Freya from marrying the giants. He laughed, called you a terrible conspirator, and asked you if you loathed his brother that strongly.

The truth was that you didn't, but you couldn't stand the idea of becoming the toy of an arrogant, vain prince. A man who chased you for your beauty, who claimed you were going to be his from the very first moment that he saw you regardless of your opinion.

And yet, that wasn't all what was to be learned about him.

Thor had potential to achieve his goal, you could feel it, but he was blind to it most of the time. His pride blinded him, often turned into entitlement, and you couldn't stand that. Still, you were quite curious for what could be found behind that.

After all, his people loved him for a reason, and you were never able to stay mad at him for long. Vanity aside, you couldn't simply ignore his dedication to you. The way in which his eyes would shine if you responded nicely, his deep voice going slightly softer, his cheery self remaining always enthusiastic no matter the failed landing of his flirting. Allways expectant, waiting for you with such great loyalty like no other of your admirors. The onlyone who managed to make you smile, who would stare at your face but be trully hearing whatever you were telling him.

Venting disdain about him wasn't what you wanted to do about the situation, and it wasn't the ríght way of supporting Loki.You did your part in the way you imagined he preferred to be comforted. No heartfelt speeches, only seeking to humor him with jokes.

That was how Thor had found you, midway into the task of becoming the trickster of a trickster by singing a cheerfull song for his brother. The garden looked even more green and vivacious than usual, work of your magic without doubts. You were wearing a flower crown and behaving with an adorable carefreeness that the god of thunder was incapable of resisting. He remained frozen in his spot, fearing you would stop if you noticed him.

It took him an instant to notice that yours was the same song he heard in the halls of Freya, the dispute of the king and the sorceress. Verses he haven't heard before revealed that the progression of the song was increasingly against the king, He had offered the fair maiden to drink from his goblet, but her reply was terminant.

' I want no wine, I want no mead. To get rid of you is all i need'

Your acting reflected the annoyance and desperation, to what Loki bursted into laughter.

" Your enchanting voice makes anything sound beautifull, my lady. " Thor praised you from afar, finally pacing towards you. " I don't mind being jested when it's done so sweetly."

You turned back and smiled for him, a hint of nervousy over being discovered remaining very visible.

" In Vanaheim, this topic is common in songs meant to be comedical. I believe is the influence of the legends. "

As he observed the interaction, Loki noticed you weren't looking at his brother precisely like the goddess of love used to look at her repulsive suitors.

" The songs of our people speak mostly of battles. " He commented, taking the conversation elsewhere. " The trully amusing ones almost exclusively deal with my shenanigans. "

" And the serious ones focus on my courage. " Thor followed him with pridefull excitement. " I crave to show you some, but I dread that nothing would sound as good in my voice. "

For the very first time ever, he had shown a small glimpse of humility in his courting attempts and you intended to reward it.

" You have a very pleasant speaking voice."

" Then I shall read some asgardian poetry for you! " He suggested and attempted to contain his enthusiasm ríght afterwards. " … If you would consent to spend a while in my company, of course. "

Thor was asking nicely, a change that you approbed. In order to make him see that was the correct path, you couldn't do anything but indulge him.

" I will gladly join you, Prince Thor. "

Radiant of joy as if you would have already agreed to marry him, the old habit slipped back in.

" Not for long, I will soon become King of Asgard. " He corrected you, as if it was meant to impress you. " And the celebration is what i'm looking foward the most. You will have the honor of the first dance, my beloved, with all the kingdom watching us. My glory shall be yours, for I wish no other maiden but you to be admired alongside me. "

" And I suppose you will offer me your silver goblet to drink from as well? " You called him out with mockery. " To what i will have to politely refuse. "

With that, you shortened the distance between you and sweetly sang for him one more verse of the song.

' The King's caresses are not for me, neither I desire his consort to be.'

Thor's lips parted and he released a sigh, ironically enchanted, and the reaction surprised you so much that it made you giggle. It was a display of spontaneous vulnerability, something he had never showed you before.

" Yet how I wish the day will come when you will be mine. " He softly confessed, caressing your cheek. " No King would ever find a better Queen. "

At that point you began to wish you could give in to him. So many doubts were stopping you, mainly due to his oscilant manners. Most of the time he acted like a petulant child, but in moments of brillance like that one he was so close of awakening your feelings.

You couldn't let him know that, not untill noticing stronger signs of long lasting growth. If Thor wanted you that badly, he would have to become a man whose marriage proposal you could take seriously.

And he eventually did, thanks to the trickery of his brother.

For the sake of his own personal interests overlaping with your problem, Loki granted your wish. The coronation was interrupted by a surprise attack of Frost Giants, unleashing Thor's rage beyond any rational measure. His hurted pride claimed vengeance and he recklessly leaded his friends to unleash war on Jotunheim, counting with the company of his brother. Thor's actions were severely punished by the Allfather, who casted him out of Asgard after depriving him from his rank and power.

As Freya later recalled, he got exiled by his own stupidity. You, however, couldn't help feeling guilty about it. Loki didn't have to admit his blame for you to realize he was pulling the strings. He had helped himself and saved you from that rushed wedding, but the cost was peraphs too high.

The chain of events unleashed proved you ríght. As Asgard's temporal regent, Loki denied your ask of returning to Vanaheim. Under his petty excuses, you knew he was probably fearing you would go to Frey with the news, then he would arm the Vanir and the light elves against him counting with the inside support of his sister. Off the record, and sadly, you also were aware to be the closest thing he had to a friend. For so, you were forced to watch his descend into madness.

At his return, Thor reunited with you in the palace of Freya. She had been sheltering you from Loki's rage, unleashed when you couldn't keep supporting him anymore. Despite the fright of those last instants and your regret for trusting him against the lady's advice, you sincerely lammented his passing. The god of thunder found comfort in that, but he seeked more than to vent his grief to you with that visit.

" I owe you my greatest apologies. " He begged for forgiveness, holding your hand. " I was a selfish fool. I overly focused on my feelings for you and never wondered about the true desires of your heart. All you wanted was to chase knowledge unbothered and I kept getting in the way of your dreams for the sake of mine. "

You stared at him in awe, something had changed him deeply during his exile and the result felt like the sign you were waiting for.

" Worry not, good prince: you are forgiven." You answered, caressing his knuckles within the contact he had already established. " Although I do wonder if that dream of yours still stands, many things seem to have changed in the short span of your absence. "

Thor led your hand to his chest, to the spot of his heart.

" It remains yours, if you want it. " He sweetly confirmed. " I hope my learning in exile has made me a man trully worthy of you, but if it's still your wish to decline my affections I will understand it. "

You remained silent for an instant, tasting the moment, and in that feeling he kept the confession flowing.

" Before you take your choice, there is something i need to share. At the peak of my demise I had plenty of time to think, and you were always on my thoughts. From this I have obtained a great realization I need you to hear. "

You were hooked to his every word, craving to discover what he had for you.

" The first time I saw you, I knew i wanted you. That was lust. " He began to explain himself. " When i told you that you would be mine, That was arrogance. "

His eyes were on you the whole time and the sincere warmt in his glance was inviting even tho he wasn't intending that on purpose. There was no masterplan to charm you, only the strenght of his raw feelings being exposed to you.

" And when i realized I would give up everything to keep you, that … That was love. "

Your lips parted for you to sigh in romantical delight, as charmed as you once had made him feel.

" Love is a dream of the Vanir, the true blessing of Freya. " You finally replied, caressing his loose hair and the side of his beard. " So if you love me, and your feelings are true, you are one of my dreams come true. "

Thor couldn't believe what he had heard, prepared as he was to face your final rejection.

" Do your trully want me, in your heart? "

You smiled shyly for him, then nodded affirmatively with the cutest look.

" Many men had stated that they would sacrifice what they value the most for love,but untill now only one had proven it with actions. " Was the reason you gave him. " To the lose of Mjolnir you had also accidentally realized of your real feelings for me. Your punishment found you joining Frey in spirit, as you lost your weapon and discovered the agonical waiting of distant love. "

He didn't consider it before, but you were ríght, and he was very glad you had showed him that.

Before he could thank you again, you were trapping him in sweet embrace.

" Not even in my wildest dreams I could have imagined to be loved like this … and no more nights I will keep you waiting. "

[artificialfanfiction]

Symphony of Tastes-One Shot

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Disclaimer: The content on this blog is entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes. None of the scenarios depicted here are based on real-life occurrences. Enjoy the stories and let your imagination run wild!

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pairing Jolly Karlsson x reader

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Joakim Jolly Karlsson, the charismatic guitarist for the heavy metal band Bad Omens, eagerly awaited the arrival of his girlfriend, Y/N, who was flying in from the States for their first ever trip to Sweden. He had met her during their tour, and their bond had grown stronger despite the distance. Joakim was excited to show her the beauty of his homeland and introduce her to the delightful peculiarities of Swedish culture. One of the things he was most looking forward to was sharing with her the sweet indulgence of Swedish candy. Known for its vast variety and distinct flavors, Joakim knew that this would be an experience she would never forget.

The moment Y/N stepped off the plane, her eyes sparkled with excitement and curiosity. Joakim's heart swelled with pride as he took her hand and led her through the bustling airport, filled with the chatter of people speaking in the melodious tones of his native language. Upon reaching his apartment in the heart of Stockholm, he presented her with a colorful assortment of Swedish sweets, meticulously arranged on a tray. Her eyes widened as she took in the rainbow of options before her. "These are all for me?" she asked, her voice filled with amazement. Joakim chuckled, "Yes, love, but we'll share, of course."

He began by explaining the significance of the treats, how each one held a special place in the hearts of Swedes, especially children. The excitement grew palpable as they picked out the first candy to try together. Y/N's hand hovered over a peculiar looking piece wrapped in shiny paper. "This one," she said with a smile, "it's called Ahlgrens Bilar, right?" Joakim nodded, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "It's a classic," he assured her. "You're going to love it." As they both popped the sweet into their mouths, the taste of raspberry and licorice flooded their senses. Y/N's eyes lit up as she chewed, savoring the unique combination that was so quintessentially Swedish. It was the start of a delicious adventure that would not only introduce her to the flavors of his country but also strengthen the bond they shared, one sugar rush at a time.

Encouraged by her delighted reaction to the Ahlgrens Bilar, Joakim couldn't wait to introduce Y/N to another Swedish favorite: Salmiakki. He selected a piece of black licorice-like candy with a salty taste that was known to be quite the acquired taste. "This one's called Salmiakki" he said, offering it to her with a mischievous grin. Y/N took it, her curiosity piqued by the intense aroma that filled the room. She studied it for a moment before popping it into her mouth. Her expression transformed from anticipation to surprise, and Joakim watched with bated breath. The initial sweetness gave way to a bold salty hit that was unlike anything she had ever tasted. Her eyes watered slightly, but she chewed with determination. Joakim chuckled at her bravery, his own taste buds remembering the first time he had tried it. "Well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Y/N took a deep breath, swallowed, and smiled. "It's…different," she said, reaching for a sip of water.

Y/N's smile grew as she took a sip of water, swishing it around her mouth to combat the intense flavor of the Salmiakki. Joakim couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "It's not for everyone," he admitted, patting her back gently. "But I'm proud of you for giving it a go." Despite not loving it, she appreciated the cultural experience and was eager to continue their candy tasting adventure. Joakim graciously offered her a piece of softer, more familiar fudge to cleanse her palate, his laughter subsiding into a warm smile as they moved on to the next Swedish treat.

The next candy on their exploratory journey was the iconic Polkagris, a peppermint stick striped with vibrant colors. Y/N's eyes sparkled with excitement as Joakim handed it to her. "This one's not too crazy, I promise," he said, his voice soothing. She took a small bite, the crunch echoing in the quiet apartment. The cool minty flavor danced on her tongue, a refreshing contrast to the richness of the fudge. Her eyes grew wide as she felt the intensity of the mint, and she gasped slightly, letting out a giggle. "It's like a party in my mouth!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed. Joakim's laughter filled the room as he took a bite himself, the sweet nostalgia of his childhood flooding back. They shared the stick, Y/N growing more adventurous with each bite, her taste buds adapting to the potent minty rush. Between laughs and gasps, they swapped stories of their favorite candies from their own countries, finding joy in the newfound shared experience of sweet discovery.

Encouraged by Y/N's growing enthusiasm, Joakim reached for a small, round candy with a hole in the center, wrapped in a paper that depicted a cheerful cow. "This is Polly's Tos" he said, explaining that it was a beloved Swedish invention. Y/N took it with curiosity, noticing the creamy white exterior and the pastel-colored interior. As she bit into it, the soft, chewy toffee filled her mouth with a sweetness that was both comforting and exciting. The slight caramel flavor mingled with the milkiness, creating a harmony that was impossible to resist. She couldn't help but let out a delighted squeal, which only made Joakim's smile widen. "It's like a happy little cow gave us a piece of heaven!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled by the treat. Joakim nodded in agreement, his eyes shining with happiness as he watched her savor each chew. They continued to explore the tray of sweets, their laughter and chatter filling the apartment as they discovered the delightful nuances of each Swedish candy. Each taste was a gateway to a new memory, a shared moment that brought them closer together, bridging the gap between their cultures through the universal language of sugar and spice.

As they made their way through the tray, their fingers sticky with sugar and their hearts full of joy, Joakim paused to look into Y/N's eyes. Her smile was as radiant as the candies spread before them, and he couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her lightly on the lips. "But nothing is sweeter than you," he murmured, his voice tender and sincere. Y/N's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and she returned the kiss, the flavors of the Polly's Tos lingering on her breath. They pulled away, their eyes shining with affection. "Thank you for sharing this with me," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. Joakim nodded, knowing that the real treat wasn't the candy but the time they spent together, learning about each other's worlds and creating new memories that would be just as cherished as the sweetest Swedish delicacies. The night stretched out before them, a canvas of unexplored flavors and shared moments, painting a vibrant picture of love and connection that transcended borders and languages.

Their laughter faded into a comfortable silence as they reached for the next piece of candy, a Kexchoklad, a crunchy chocolate covered cookie that was a staple in Swedish fika, the art of taking a break with coffee and sweets. Y/N took a bite, the chocolate crackling as it gave way to the crispy biscuit beneath. She closed her eyes, savoring the perfect balance of chocolate and cookie, and let out a contented sigh. Joakim watched her, his heart swelling with love as he saw the pure pleasure on her face. He knew that this was just the beginning of many more sweet moments they would share together, not just in the realm of candy, but in the tapestry of their shared life. As they sat there, surrounded by the remnants of their sugary adventure, the warmth of their connection grew stronger, the flavors of Sweden becoming a delicious backdrop to the unfolding story of their love.

[yandereworlds]

Meet Lukas, a Swedish American salesman!

Mr salary man is the best in his entire company, he's convinced every single person he's come across to invest in whatever he's advertising, initial clients who turned him down eventually gave in either because they were convinced or so that he'd like. Finally, leave them alone, but y/n is stubborn and resilient, no matter how much he tries, he just can't seem to make them take the deal. at first its frustrating, because this is essentially the first 'loss' he has on record, so he keeps attempting to get y/n to give in.

Eventually, he begins to wonder why and/or how they're so resilient. How and why they keep turning him down, what about them makes them so special? Outside of work, he starts using. Very unethical means. He has used unethical means before such as intimidation and other varying behaviors, but his new approach is things like stalking, writing documentations on y/n, sneaking pictures of y/n, trying to figure out what essentially their 'weakness' is in social settings. Clearly intimidation didn't work. Was there a certain phrasing he could use that would make them more willing? Was there some sort of time period he had to wait for? Was it their financial situation? What exactly could he use to his leverage. If he directly threatened them or forged it, it would obviously be easily checked by his company and he'd lose his job, so he had to try another way.

But, in an unexpected turn, curiosity turns into infatuation. His journaling becomes less objective and more intimate. More about attraction than social habits. He starts using them for more personal use over the business. Of course he still goes to work and puts on his big smile, but on his time off, it's spent on y/n. He begins to figure out ways he can incorporate himself into y/ns life. How he can manipulate their weaker minded peers to not worry about him. He now wants to find out how he can break y/n down, no longer for a sale, but as a plaything. How did y/n fare outside of business? In a more casual setting? How far could his intelligence take him?

Please, ask whatever you’d like about Lukas! We’ve been dying to introduce him.

[ask-felix-aberg]

It was a beautiful evening and Felix settled on the roof of the Ravenclaw Tower to watch the sunset. He was about to take a sip of his cosy milkshake when something in his cup caught his eye.

Peering into the cup in confusion, he watched the disturbingly cute almond, oat and cashew with udders swim in circles on the edge of the drink. With fresh milk dripping from their udders right into the milkshake, their soulless eyes locked onto Felix's. All three started paddling more aggressively, attempting to cover their opponents in more milky substance.

In the high-pitched voice, they started squeaking "Do you like my milk?", "You like my milk more, right?" and "Pick my milk!"

Suddenly, from the depths of the shake a chunk of coconut rose up, with the biggest udder of them all. The almond started dancing on the foam it created; the oat swang its udder to attract Felix' attention, and the cashew stared right into the Ravenclaw's soul, unblinking and unsettling as it slowly started to sink.

The coconut said in a low husky voice "'My milk is the creamiest, dare to have a taste?" The big chunk starts swinging its udder all over the milkshake, drowning the others.

The Ravenclaw looked into his cup, taking a moment to process the situation. He had seen many odd things at Hogwarts, but this was certainly not the kind of Swedish almond tradition he was used to. He blinked, hoping the strange scene would disappear, but the nuts continued their bizarre play and tried to out-milk each other.

Felix watched as the almond and the oat, despite their efforts, began to sink to the bottom of the mug, where he imagined the cashew probably already was, still watching him through the thick liquid. Now his milkshake was filled with nut chunks and a surprise coconut, which loomed large and confident, its udder swinging boldly.

Normally, Felix enjoyed nuts - or drupes, in this case - but this was not what he was looking forward to this evening. He sighed. "What is up with the dairy products in this school these past weeks?" he muttered to himself and thought back to the recent incidents involving niffler cheese, which had left his friend William in a particularly questionable state.

The coconut chunk continued to bob in his milkshake, swinging its udder as if it had something to prove. Felix gave it a little poke and thought for a moment. Alsius would probably tell him not to touch any food that talks back to him. But how much worse than Scream Cheese could it be?

The Swede got a grip on himself and shrugged. Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to take a small sip of his chunky nutshake. The udder of the coconut brushed against his lip now and then, an odd sensation that he tried to ignore.

"Hmm, creamy," Felix swallowed, feeling the smooth texture coat his tongue.

[thecrimsonvalley-creates]

~ Slow dance ~ Indulgent artpiece for my melancholy soul! Inspired by the song: Vår sista dans! Explanation of the song choice/text under read more for those of you who want a deep dive :D

So here is my rambling about the song that inspired this piece and I shall share with you all the lore of this really old Swedish song. The song is called “Vår sista dans” which translates into “Our last dance”. It's from the genre that in Sweden is called “dansband” but could most certainly be called a ballad of sort. From my limited knowledge (bestowed upon me by both my curiosity and grandparents) these sort of songs would play before the establishment was supposed to close for the night. A slow, intimate song for all the couples in the audience. This song is however rather “modern”, measured in how long this genre was around. The song's protagonist sings about how this is their last dance with their significant other. There are a few lines which alludes to the fact that some promises has been broken and that the winds of destiny have changed. Still the entire song is them begging the person they love to still hold them, to give it one more chance and to remember that they were their loved one (the word used is “kära” which is an old fashioned way to refer to a significant other). Some lines really stuck with me for this piece and I'll allow myself to share those: “Så håll mig hårt är allt jag ber dig, som ingen annan fanns.” “So hold me tight, that's all I'm asking for, as if no one else existed.” “När musiken dör ut och dansgolvet töms ska jag stå. Ensam kvar, det är slut. Förkrossad ska jag se dig gå.” “When the music dies out and the dance floor empties there I'll stand. All alone, this is the end, With heartbreak I'll watch you leave.”

All of this just resonates with me, as the never ending sentimentalist I am and with all my headcanons about two broken people trying to grasp what “normality” they can ever get. Of trying to have just one dance, not weighed down by all of the events that have and will transpire.

If you read this all: thank you, for listening to me ramble about old Swedish songs from my childhood! :D

[wholesomefluffdaddy]

Wednesday's new court mandated therapist is having her keep a journal of her thoughts and feelings. Wednesday finds this to be a complete waste of time and decides instead to use it to record her observations of her unusual roommate Enid Sinclair. Wednesday POV.

——————————————

Entry 19

Current Moon Phase: First Quarter 🌓

Mother and father contacted me via crystal ball mid morning asking as to my plans for Yule. I informed them that I would be spending them with Enid's family. They were terrible at hiding their delight and asked many questions. Father inquired if I wished to return home to dig up one of Great-Aunt Calpurnia's rings. I scoffed at such a notion, the ground would be much too hard this time of year.

Mother chimed in that I might want something more modern for a certain gift recipient. I ignored her not so subtle suggestion and instead asked if they knew of any werewolf festivities around Yuletide. They both pondered this a while. As they did, Grandmama joined in the conversation. She asked if I was referring to the werewolf games that Swedish Archbishop Olaus Magnus wrote about. I was rather surprised, as was mother and father.

'A werewolf Christmas! How exciting! I didn't know those still took place outside of Livonia and Chicago.' She said as if reminiscing. 'What small town shall you be pillaging?' She asked. I raised an eyebrow.

'Enid did not mention pillaging…' I said as my curiosity was piqued.

'Ah, well, I suppose nowadays it's rather difficult to find houses with cellars full of mead and a castle wall to jump over.' She sighed and looked me up and down. 'Plus I imagine your parents wouldn't approve of acts of cannibalism while you're still in school.'

'Is that part of the festivities too? How much cannibalism is required?' I asked, enthralled.

'Wednesday, no.' Mother said firmly. 'Grandmama, I am rather doubtful that the Sinclairs practice such things.' She turned her attention back to me. 'What did Enid tell you explicitly?'

'Jumping a castle was included but the adaptation of its origin that I was given had to do with a young werewolf eating one of Saint Nicholas's reindeer to gain an advantage.' I said, drumming my fingers on my desk.

'Well, I assume that eating reindeer is a more acceptable alternative.' Grandmama said with a shrug. 'Where will you be traveling to that has reindeer and a castle wall?'

'San Francisco.' I said, glancing back at Enid's side of the room. Enid had left earlier in the morning to attend one of her extracurricular activities. I heard a collective gasp and my eyes flicked back to the crystal ball. 'Yes?'

'Nothing!' Father lied quickly. I narrowed my eyes.

'We are just surprised, is all.' Mother said, patting father's hand reassuringly. 'After what happened last time you visited.'

'I was assured the temperatures would not be so hellacious and Enid would limit my exposure to bright colors this time around.' I replied. Mother and father seemed doubtful. 'I shall send Thing with my Yule gifts before I intend to leave.' I said before bidding then farewell and covering the crystal ball. I stood up from my desk and wandered aimlessly around the dorm while my thoughts consumed me.

I eventually found myself sitting atop Enid's bed. I missed her dreadfully as I gazed at her bedside clock. Why must her accursed clubs continue this close to the end of our academic instruction? I lay down to conserve energy as I felt particularly lethargic with my werewolf's continued absence. I wondered momentarily if the family curse could cause me to perish if I was kept from Enid for long enough. I closed my eyes. My mind drifted back to Enid as if my mind were on a chain that the werewolf held, letting me wander ever so slightly as to give the illusion of freedom before yanking me back.

Admittedly I grew rather hot at the idea of Enid physically keeping me on a chain. I huffed as I glanced between the clock and the door. Enid's club would likely run late again. I found this most unacceptable as I needed Enid now. Carnal thoughts, to which I had little control over, soon overcame me. I furrowed my brow as I considered possible solutions. A moment later my mobile telephone began vibrating in my pocket. I retrieved it and felt my heart rate increase.

Enid had sent a text message and photograph. The photograph was a self portrait of her smiling at the camera as she sat in the quad. Enid had informed me earlier that these self portraits were colloquially known as 'selfies.' Her message asked if I required any sustenance from the cafeteria as, unsurprisingly, her meeting would go over the allotted time frame given. The solution struck me as I held the answer in my hand. Just as Enid could bewitch me with this accursed device I could do the same. I held out the mobile telephone as I had seen Enid do many times before and took a photograph.

I quickly pulled the device back towards me to analyze the composition. It was simple but acceptable. I sent it along with a message. Text soon appeared below my message indicating that Enid had received and viewed it. Enid's response was immediate with several of those irksome 'emojis.' She expressed shock and praise me at taking my first 'selfie.' I felt a small twinge of pride, I was currently in possession of Enid's attention and I wished to maintain it.

I sent another message indicating that I required her assistance in a serious matter. She was quick to ask if I was okay. I adjusted my position on her bed and took another photograph. I sent it along with instructions of what I needed her to do. Several dots appeared and disappeared. Finally a message appeared. Enid was gently reprimanding me for distracting her. A wicked grin spread across my face. I removed a single article of clothing and sent another photograph with a message. More dots appeared but the response was quicker. I was now being told off.

I sent another message saying that I desired Enid return to our dorm posthaste along with another photograph with another article of clothing missing. I continued this trend and watched as Enid's responses soon became all capitals and less coherent. It was not long before I heard keys fumbling outside our door. I heard the lock unclick and Enid burst through.

'Mi amor, you are back sooner than expected.' I said facetiously. I felt quite pleased in succeeding at having my werewolf return at a more appropriate time. Enid slammed the door shut behind her before stomping over.

'You!' She said, pointing at me as if to scold me. I sat up and kissed her accusatory hand.

'Now that you are back, I was hoping to-' But my next words were cut off as the werewolf pushed me back onto the bed.

'You.' She hissed dangerously in my ear before grabbing my tie. I gulped as she pulled me closer by it.

'Yes?' I asked with fervid trepidation.

I am rather chuffed to report that I was thoroughly and satisfactorily reprimanded by my werewolf for my folly, and that it will most certainly happen again.

Dear Diary,

I was TRYING to get all my club activities wrapped up today before winter break but SOMEONE was being needy. So there I was, in the middle of finalizing the first few pages of the yearbook in the quad, and I texted Willa to let her know I was almost done but would be running late. All normal so far right? Well, all of a sudden she decides to send me a selfie! 😲 Wednesday Addams sends me a selfie! I know! But it wasn't just a selfie - she sends a selfie of her lying on my bed all dramatically and pouting! (or I guess the closest thing to pouting that Wednesday does) and the message: I need you.

GIRL! 😳 But it doesn't stop there! No! Wednesday doesn't send just one selfie, she sends SEVERAL and is somehow losing more clothes in each one! 😖 OMG! I can't focus, the rest of the club is waiting for my approval on a layout and Wednesday is texting this and like the most suggestive messages!

W: Amore, I crave your touch.

W: Which position does mon loup find the most appealing?

W: I cannot bear another moment without your fangs claiming my flesh.

W: Cara mia, I wish for you to do unquestionably despicable things to me.

I couldn't! I just couldn't! 😵 I apologized to all the club members and said I had an emergency I needed to take care of.

Ugh! Willa looked so smug when I got back to the dorm. 😠 She tried to act all innocent and everything too! If she wanted my attention so bad then she was going to have it! 😤💕

[lunatic-pudge]

The Great Swedish Fish Disaster

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

(Scout has a crush on Sniper and wants to help him with his Swedish Fish addiction) (Crack fic)

I'm not much of a character x character type of person. But this was a request and it was fuuny so who am I to say no to this. Please enjoy this mess. And yeah, it kinda ends abruptly, oops.

Requested by Gojifan1962

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

Sniper was an interesting man to say the least. He was a man who took his job seriously. Someone who would sit in one specific position for hours on end, just to get the one perfect shot. But yet, at the same time, he'd piss in jars, filling them to them brim and throwing them at unsuspecting victims. Cackling at them afterwards, mocking the poor piss-soaked person who was just trying to go about their day.

Sniper was such a strange man, and that's what Scout loved about him. He loved how polarizing Sniper was. But there was one problem though.

Sniper was an addict.

No, it wasn't to drugs or alcohol, he was smarter than that. No, it was something to much, much worse.

Swedish Fish.

Everywhere Sniper went, he had a pack of Swedish Fish with him. All of Sniper's little hiding spots, there were packs of Swedish Fish just waiting for him. And the worst place was his camper van. The man had two whole cabinets just dedicated to the red gummies! It was neverending.

It worried Scout. Though he was scared to admit it, he loved Sniper. He cared about the Aussie very much. So it worried him to see his beloved friend constantly munching on those damned fish. How had Sniper not grown sick of them yet? It was ridiculous. 

So here sat Scout in the rec room, thinking. Pyro sat beside him, scribbling away at their drawing. Scout tried to not pay too much attention to it, due to how graphic the drawing was. It was a strange mixture of cute and morbid. Scout needed help, and he figured it wouldn't hurt to ask the pyromaniac for some help.

"Hey, Py, you got a moment?"

"Hmm?" Pyro looked up from their drawing to Scout, head tilted in curiosity.

"I need some help. You ever notice how Sniper is always eating Swedish Fish?"

Pyro nodded.

"I think it's getting outta hand. I wanna help him get get off the stuff, but I don't really know how to." Scout sighed, shaking his head. Looking over to the other merc, hoping they'd offer something useful.

Pyro hummed, thinking for a moment before an idea came to mind. They got up, urging Scout to do the same. Taking the young merc's hand, Pyro mumbled out their little idea while walking out of the rec room.

~~

"Alright, I'll bite, where we going, mate?" Sniper asked, sitting blindfolded in the backseat of a car he was led to by Scout and Pyro. He knew this couldn't be good, when those two paired up disaster was always just around the corner.

"You'll see soon, Snipes. Just hang on a bit" Scout said, turning to look over at Pyro with a smirk. Scout was quite surprised when he found out Pyro could drive, though when asked about their license, Scout was just met with a blank and unnerving stare.

Scout was excited, he was finally gonna be able to help his crush kick his-

His thoughts were suddenly disrupted by the familiar sound of crinkling. That very familiar crinkling noise.

Whipping his head around, Scout stared in horror at Sniper.

"Snipes! What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Sniper said while casually popping a Swedish Fish in his mouth.

Scout stared blankly for a second before reaching over and snatching the bag from him. Sniper let out a screech, offended that his beloved candy was taken from him.

Sniper blindly reached forward, trying to find locate where Scout was. "Give it back, dickhead!"

"No" Scout moved away from Sniper's grabbing hands. "You don't need these, Sniper!"

"Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can't have?"

"I'm trying to do what's best for you!"

"I swear to God, mate, if you don't give those back I'll-"

"Hmph hmph!" Pyro said, pulling in to park at their destination.

Sniper ripped the blindfold off and stared at the building, reading the name of it.

"Rehab?"

"Yeah, that's right" Scout started, "Sniper, you have a problem, and Pyro and I feel like the best way to squash this is to put you in rehab"

Sniper stared at Scout absolutely dumbfounded, "Mate, I don't have no addiction. I don't need no rehab. Besides, this is for people addicted to drugs and alcohol, not fuckin' candy."

"Yeah, whatever. Keep denying it all you want, that isn't gonna change anything. If you keep fighting this, I'll have Pyro tie you up, right, Py?" Scout looked over to Pyro who proceeded to hold up a scary amount of rope.

Sniper gave it, not wanting to deal with Pyro's wrath. The three proceeded to leave the car and enter the building, walking up to the receptionist desk. Sniper could already tell something bad was going to happen. Scout walks up to the desk, leaning against it, trying to look cool.

The receptionist looks up and smile gently, "Hello! How may I help you?"

"Hey, toots, I'm here to check my friend in. He's, like, a super addict and needs some serious help."

"Well, that's what we're here for. What is it that he's addicted to?"

"Swedish Fish." Scout proclaimed

...

"Excuse me?" The nurse looked at Scout, confused as to if she heard him correctly. "Did you say 'Swedish Fish'?"

"Yeah, I did. He's so crazy addicted to them. We keep finding him eating them, and even had to take them from him before we even came here!" Scout throw his hands around, throwing up the dramatics.

The nurse became flabbergasted. "Sir, I'm sorry, but this is a place to rehabilitate from drugs and alcohol. Not candy. That's something we cannot help with."

Scout looked at the woman, appalled. How could she refuse them like that? His beloved Sniper had a crippling addiction and needed help! And she was just going to turn them away? It was unacceptable. Slamming his hands on the desk, Scout started to argue with the woman. "This is outrageous! My best friend is in dire need of help and you're just gonna turn us away?"

"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave or I will call the cops." The nurse warns.

"Do it! I dare you. They're gonna be on my side anyways since you think it's okay to deny an addict for help!"

~~

Standing outside of the rehab facility, Sniper and Pyro stood and watched as Scout resisted getting into the police officer's car. Scout screamed and thrashed, going on about how his friend needs help and how he was being unlawfully arrested.

A different officer stood by Sniper and Pyro, he had been questioning the two about the stuff Scout was spouting and about the runner himself as well.

"Is... Is you friend always like this?" The officer asks Sniper.

"Nah, sir, this is rather uncharacteristic of him." Sniper mused, starting to realize that yeah, Scout had been acting strange recently. Sniper had never been one to question things but now here he was, outside of a rehab facility, watching his coworker getting arrested after trying to check him in for liking Swedish Fish. Sniper huffed and shook his head. Scout is Scout. He's just being the young goober he's always been.

Sniper walked up to the cop car Scout was residing it. He asked the officer if he could talk to Scout. The cop allowed it, rolling his window down so the two could speak. Scout was happy to see his Sniper. He wish that Sniper would rip the car door open, pick him up bridal style, and whisk him away from this crazy place.

"Snipes! Dude, you gotta help me get outta here! What they're doing isn't right. I was just trying to help you!" Scout cried, giving Sniper his best puppy eyes to convince the Aussie to help him.

"Mate, you beat three officers unconscious and tried to steal one's car. You're too far gone for me to help."

"But Snipes! Please! There's a reason I did all of this." Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Scout continued, " Sniper, there's something I wanna tell you. I lov-"

"Wait, you got something behind you ear." Reaching through the bars, Sniper reached behind Scout's ear, causing the runner's breath to get caught in his throat and a blush blossmed on his face. He looked up at Sniper, mesmerized by the Aussie's rugged features. Oh how Scout wanted to kiss this man.

Scout's thoughts got cut off when Sniper pulled his hand back, revealing a Swedish Fish held in between his fingers. That caused Scout to get mad. "Are you freaking kidding me? Get rid of that right now!"

"If you say so." Sniper said, popping the gummy in his mouth with a smile.

"No! Don't eat it!"

"Too late, mate."

Scout groaned, mad that Sniper was essentially able to get the last laugh in. Before he could continue, Sniper spoke again.

"You know, think I'm gonna go back to the base and have and have an Adam Sandler marathon with Pyro."

"You're STILL obsessed with Adam Sandler? God, when do you quit, Snipes?" Scout yelled, not wanting to rememeber those dark times.

Sniper started to walk away, "See ya when you get out of jail!"

[00lari00]

Alex and Alice (the lady and the tramp)

Based on this reblog by @bluetorchsky, I wanted to tell you a bit about them and at least a summary of their story because I really think they're cute and their love is kind of… funny XD And I also wanted to see Violin and Accordion reacting to Alex! They can work together and Alex likes to play the guitar! At least their boys can give Alex some tips and teach him a few things… XD

Name: Alexandre Cunha (Alex)

Age: 34

Nationality: Brazil

Skills: Can play the guitar, can fight capoeira very well and generally defend himself using his bare hands and strength, doesn't use weapons much but sometimes likes to use a baseball bat.

Curiosity?: He is trans

He joined the toppat clan when he was 16 years old, his parents were in debt with the clan so they literally sold their son to try and pay off their debt (Early Sir Wilford and Billy G era). Despite Alex's bad situation, Ralf (AKA Right Hand Man) took care of Alex as his apprentice and taught the little recruit everything he knew about fighting and defense, often almost treating him like a son but with heavy fighting training.

Over time he has become a tougher and more reserved person, and he respects Ralf a lot for teaching him all this, for teaching him how to be a stronger person. And now he's a Toppat bodyguard… and that's where Alice comes in

Name: Alice Svensson

Age: 32

Nationality: Swedish

Skills: Very good at arguments and managing things in the clan next door if her cousin Sven Svensson. They taking care of things like money and plans for the clan. She is very good at persuading and use words to her advantage.

She joined the clan when she was 23 years old (Near the end of Terrence's era), she comes from a rich mafia family. Her and Sven's family is... Complicated, in this family everyone has to be successful or a source of pride for their parents... If you cannot achieve your goal or come second, you are weak and incompetent. This caused a rivalry between Sven and Alice since childhood, Alice sometimes teased Sven for not being enough, although she regrets it a little now... Because they both suffered for the same thing.

As she is an important member of the clan due to being from a mafia family, she hired Alex as her bodyguard and right-hand man.

Alex didn't like having to obey her at first, but he started to get to know her better and understand why she was a person who was sometimes selfish or sophisticated. He liked how delicate she was and wanted to protect her and be loyal to her... She is sophisticated like a lady and he is quiet, serious and loyal

As always he is afraid to take the first step in the relationship and is actually very shy, but she also started to like him. I LOVE HOW DIFFERENT THEY ARE XD KAKSJSKAKJ 💕💕 Could someone teach Alex about love... 👀

Tag: #only1toppat!au

[coopers-kitchen]

This pig first found out about his dad’s taste when he found out that the reason he was never allowed in the basement as a kid is because it’s where his dad and uncle butchered and portioned up all those fat boys that kept disappearing in “bear attacks”.

Well, ever since his dad came down and found his own son had stripped off and locked himself up in a feeding cage, the family’s gotten closer than ever. This hog helps with the hunts, the care, the prep, and he’s been getting nice and fat on a diet of fresh longpork.

Well, it wasn’t too long before curiosity turned to acceptance. He knew his dad wanted to eat him, and he knew he’d be damn delicious, too. He walked around naked, all those choice cuts on display. Now that cannibalism has been legalised, he doesn’t even need to hide it. He’s even brought some pigs from college home to meet the family.

Well, the sad fact is this pig realised that it wasn’t enough to just be butchered - he wanted a live roast, so he could feel every moment of the prep, and feel himself change from pig to pork.

Well, his dad’s been cooking up longpig for decades, but never a whole one. It’s a whole different skillset and, even though they tried with a few pigs, he never got the knack of a live cook. Sure, he’d dreamed of what his son would taste like ever since he saw him locked up between a Swedish backpacker and a college student he’d hooked up with, but it’s one thing to butcher a random hog, it’s another to do it to your son when he wants nothing more than to be cooked alive.

Well, I’m always interested in helping a hog achieve his dreams, and when they contacted me I was more than happy to help out - after all, not only do I have the skills, I have the sort of kitchen most pigs can only dream of. Dad was even kind enough to throw in a pig he’d butcher for me, lining up all his caged stock for a virtual meat inspection. Soon, they were on their way to LA alongside a few coolers filled with sausages, burgers, chops, steaks, ribs, ground meat, and meat for stuffing, all harvested from a delicious volunteer that had spent six months in a feeding cage ready to butcher.

This pig could barely wait for the oven. He’d spent three days on an all beer diet and shaved himself totally smooth. Some basic prep, one last fuck, and he was ready to stuff (longpork, wild rice, apple, and whisky), glaze (a honey apple reduction), truss up, and slide into the oven with a juicy red apple wedged between his teeth for the live roast he’d been dreaming of.

Well, cooking a pig like this is an all-day project, so me and his dad had a chat, talking shop. We had a light lunch, and he’s definitely an expert butcher based on how delicious and juicy those longpork chops were. Still, we all knew what the main event was: the whole roast currently squirming as he felt his meat cooking, and we only got hungrier as the smell of roasting pork filled the house, my eager housepigs sorting out all the side dishes and serving us however we wanted and, well, longpig is an aphrodisiac.

By the time evening rolled by, we were ready to eat, and it’s rare to see a dad that eager to dig into his son, or for anyone to match my appetite. Between the two of us we made a decent dent in this hog in a few days, and by the time dad was ready to make the trip back east he’d gained a few pounds, a better understanding of the art of cooking, and the contact details of one of my proteges who’s looking for a supplier for his new restaurant.

[sitp-recs]

Hey! Hope you're doing good!! :) I'm wondering if you know any Drarry fics that have mythological elements / stories as part of the plot. For example, a fic based on Greek myths like Hades/Persephone?

Hi anon! I’m doing great, what about you? :) oh that’s a really cool ask, I hope you enjoy these! I strongly recommend checking khalulu’s stuff as they always explore different mythologies and cultures across their works. I’d love to get more recs on this theme, too!

Nordic:

Veðr by @shealwaysreads (M, 3k)

Norsemen have ranged far enough inland to find Harry, alone and abandoned by his kith and kin. But they bring far more than danger with them, they bring adventure, they bring magic.

Swedish:

Sweden | A Midsummer Night’s Dream by @drarrelie (M, 5.5k)

With the war finally over, you’d think Harry would finally be granted that “normal life” he’s always dreamt about. Finally free from the Dursleys, from that nose-less megalomaniac, from Horcruxes, Hollows, Death Eaters, Dementors, Prophecies… you’d think that he, for the first time in his life, would be allowed to be just a normal teenager. You’d think he’d deserve that much, right?

Russian:

S’Mitten by khalulu (G, 6k)

Harry and Draco aren’t enemies any more, but it seems their history will always stand between them – so let’s try some other histories on for size! The fickle finger of fate is muffled in one of Mrs Weasley’s mittens. Did I mention kisses?

Norwegian:

East of the Sun and West of the Moon by khalulu (T, 6k)

One stormy Thursday evening, a big white bear named Draco turns up to carry Harry away from the dreadful Dursleys. They get along fairly happily together until one night Harry’s curiosity gets the better of him, and Draco is whisked away to his wicked aunt’s castle, East of the Sun and West of the Moon. It will take a strong wind to bring Harry that far…..

Albanian:

What Country, Friends, Is This? by khalulu (M, 8k)

When Harry and Draco are paired up for a nebulous “capstone project” in 8th year, Draco suggests they use it as an opportunity to take a free Grand Tour of Europe. Harry isn’t interested in being grand, and they soon veer off the beaten path. The journey to find what (and who) you really want can lead to unexpected places. (As well as Bertha Jorkins’ aunt, Illyrian Serpent cults, heroic baby Draco tales, and Slytherins singing Motown.)

Hindu:

Birds of Dreams / Remover of Obstacles / Guardian of Waters by khalulu (G, 12k)

Harry is exploring his Desi heritage, and Draco runs into him in colourful circumstances. Luna has a penchant for puns and the Patils watch Bollywood. Paper is folded, a flying carpet takes an Indian road trip, and a phoenix is found. Love blooms along the way, a flower that’s free.

Finnish:

Sparks from the Fox’s Tail by khalulu (T, 17k)

Draco is frustrated with his career as a travel writer, when a mini-tirade from Mrs Weasley and an encounter with the portrait of an intrepid great-great-great-aunt lead him to Finland to study wandless magic. Harry is – just being contrary and following his sweet-tooth, or taking the subtle route to saving the world?

Multiple:

The Hardest Hue To Hold by @cavendishbutterfly (M, 17k)

Harry needs to get the hell out of England. So he sets up a teaching assistantship in America, hops on a plane, and heads off to a fresh start. Except there’s a familiar face among the university faculty, and it’s really not the familiar face that Harry wanted. Or at least, it’s not who Harry wanted at first.

Irish:

Offer Up Our Hearts by @tackytigerfic (M, 23k)

Harry Potter has a very nice life, thank you very much. He's a top Curse-Breaker with a lucrative Ministry contract, and exciting prospects ahead. Sometimes he does wish that he had time to pursue something official with Draco Malfoy - they're half in love with each other, after all, and a great team (in and out of bed), though Draco is still one of the most infuriating people he knows.

Egyptian:

Memory Lost | You Found by @maraudersaffair (E, 30k)

After his Auror training, Harry's assigned to guard the Department of Mysteries - specifically the room where Malfoy is being held in comfortable captivity. Yet no one will tell him why, and what's more concerning? Malfoy doesn't remember Harry at all. To uncover the mystery, Harry must travel all the way to Egypt where he discovers a magical community living in the great pyramids and a long held secret that is dangerous to anyone who knows it.

Arthurian:

The Compact by astolat (E, 64k)

Hermione frowned. “The real question is why the magic of Britain would be failing now, in fact.” “That is not the real question!” Ron said loudly; he’d woken up fully by now, and Harry had too; it was starting to sink in that they’d found the problem. “The real question is, how do we fix it?”

Brazilian:

A Sense of Scale by @fantalfart and dragontamerdrarry (M, 70k)

In which Draco spends an obscene amount of time thinking of new nicknames for The Living Git, lying to himself and using his charms to seduce an extremely uncooperative sentient school.

Celtic:

The Stars Have Courage by @fantalfart (M, 85k)

Draco waited five long years to watch his husband wake up from a coma. He's not ready to meet a Harry with no memory of anything that happened after he died at The Battle of Hogwarts, twelve years ago.

Greek:

Close Behind by @oflights (M, 134k)

To rescue Draco from the Underworld, Harry has to look forward. Unfortunately, Draco has to look back.

Bonus: dark fae AU 🧚‍♂️

Mushrooms of Wiltshire by @shiftylinguini (T, 5k)

There's no point unpacking―Harry's not staying long, and besides, there's just bundled rags in his valise. The illusion of belongings, of a man heading to a new position at a prestigious manor―one beset with rumours of old magic and of impish forest dwellers causing chaos and mayhem amid the phosphorescent toadstool glow. Bugger the job. Harry's here for the rumours. He's been chasing them for years.

[andiatas]

Prince Carl Philip & Princess Sofia launch game in Minecraft

After two years of hard work, the Prince Couple launches their own world in the computer game Minecraft. The game aims to encourage children to read and write, mainly children with dyslexia, but everyone can benefit from it.

- This gives me goosebumps, I think it's so cool, says Prince Carl Philip.

Photo: Ida Åkesson/SPA

With several big bangs and lots of confetti in the air, Prince Carl Philip and Princess Sofia launched a whole new world in Minecraft Education at the gaming company Mojang's headquarters. Dexi Ville is a game that will increase children's and young people's curiosity about words, letters and reading.

- I had somehow hoped this game had existed when I was your age. I needed something that had awakened my desire to read and my curiosity about words, says Prince Carl Philip from the stage and turns to a school class in the audience.

- Because it is not easy, and I think you know that too, to feel the desire to read when the letters jump around or that it takes a very long time to find the willingness and peace to start reading, says the prince.

Faced many prejudices about dyslexia

The prince says that he has encountered and had to deal with many of the misconceptions and prejudices that people have about dyslexia and what it means for individuals who have dyslexia.

The idea for the game was raised during a meeting at the Royal Palace. Dexi Ville is a development of the prince couple's foundation's method game, "The Big Adventure," which they worked on extensively a few years ago.

- We put so much energy and effort into that game, and it turned out to be a great initiative, but nobody found it. So it was obvious that we had to find someone we could ally with, someone who already has the children and the target group, says Kim Waller, secretary general at the Prince Couple's Foundation.

Photo: Ida Åkesson/SPA

Got to play with the kids

The latest PISA report shows that Swedish children's reading skills are declining sharply. Kim Waller emphasizes the importance of supplementing traditional teaching with more methods.

A while later, Prince Carl Philip and Princess Sofia get to test Dexi Ville together with some children. A block is broken, and Prince Carl Philip quickly builds a new wall. He sits concentrated in front of a computer screen and plays Minecraft.

- This is super fun, and you're super good at this, he says to a young guy who plays with him.

This is Dexi Ville

Name: Dexi Ville – the Wordcraft Adventure Target group: all children between the ages of 8 and 10. The game is currently available in Swedish and English. Developer: Prinsparets Stiftelse, together with Minecraft Education and Shapescape. Microsoft and Nordea are enabling partners. The purpose of the game: to promote increased reading habit, expanded vocabulary and reading fluency, increased curiosity and reading comprehension. Where to find the game: It is available to all Minecraft Education license holders.

Translation and editing for clarity done by me of an article by Jenny Alexandersson, Royal Reporter at Aftonbladet. The article was published on May 30, 2024.