#that potentially millions of people have now suddenly accepted as fact

[randomblabdom]

Call my bluff I guess but wasn’t this Jack the Ripper DNA identification debunked years ago??

I seem to remember there was a mistake made during the testing that made the evidence inconclusive if not completely useless.

Why is it suddenly going viral?

[writingreadinglurkingandsmirking]

It's So Hard To Watch (Everything I Want) - reality tv star!Rafe Cameron x Reader

I Feel You Underneath My Tongue (Next To Every Word That I Should Have Said): Part 1, Part 2

Summary: You and Rafe had a long history together. The love that you shared wasn’t something that you’d ever questioned–not even when you guys were on a break from your relationship. But, suddenly he’s ghosting you. And the next thing you know? You’re getting a call from an MTV producer saying your ex Rafe is a contestant on Are You The One? and they need to come in for the ex’s episode of the show. And well, you couldn’t say no, could you?

CW/TWs: angst, female reader implied, cursing, toxic relationships afoot, a brief description of physical violence, implied previous physical violence, verbal harassment/abuse, not the most edited/reviewed

Words: 8.4k+

Note: Yes I used pretty boy blonde-era Drew for my header what about it!! And also? I used Jeff Probst because I thought it would be funny OBVIOUSLY he’d never host a reality tv dating show goodbye. So I started writing this a long time ago, forgot about it, and just revisited it to finish ‘er up. Now that said, uhhhhh I think I mayyyyy do a part 2 where Rafe gets back home because this is uhhhhh depressing and I Need closure. But! We’ll see!

Rafe Cameron had never been one you’d see going on a fucking reality TV show. No. Not at all, in fact. You had known him for the majority of his life. You’d dated the idiot for three years too. After the breakup, you went no contact for your own sake—he was impossible to be around and not fall back into his arms, no matter how much you hated it. Rafe hated it more, though. He tried desperately in the nearly year and a half since your break-up to get back together. You watched as he genuinely worked on changing himself and improving.

But then, suddenly, four months earlier he’d gone radio silent. You’d be the worst kind of liar if you said that it hadn’t hurt you. The abrupt cut-off had made you realize just how close you’d been to taking him back. Apparently, that wasn’t in the cards, though. Apparently, he was entirely over you. No matter how much you utterly fucking hated that. No matter how much it fucking destroyed you after those first two weeks of realizing that he wasn’t going to be coming back.

It got even weirder, though when a fucking MTV producer reached out to you. We’re with MTV’s Are You The One? they’d explained. You’re the ex of one of our contestants Rafe Cameron. Literally what? Would you be interested in getting a trip to Hawaii and being part of the experience? And again, unendingly now, what the actual fuck had Rafe gotten himself into? And why the fuck was he trying to have you be dragged into it?

All of the emotions that flooded you when that phone call started were…violent to say the least. And you were sad too. Part of you had hoped that Rafe would get the fuck over himself and call you again. Part of you hoped that you would’ve been able to give it another shot. But no. Apparently, he’d decided it’d be much more fun to just, you know, go on a stupid dating show with MTV and find his alleged perfect match. It made you sick to your stomach.

Are You the One was a show that felt like it was ripped from your worst nightmares. At least if Rafe was a contestant on it with someone else. The show had a dating algorithm that helps quantify compatibility for twenty-two people. It uses, according to the producer, in-depth interviews, some questionnaires, and then compatibility tests too. So, in the end, the contestants are set with their ideal match. With “their one” apparently. So, the unaware participants have to then get to know each other and undergo tests all while living with all of each other. And if, in the end, all eleven couples were able to figure out who they were after all eight weeks were up then they’d walk away with one million dollars and, potentially, the future love of their life.

The thought of Rafe meeting…

Naturally, you accepted the producer’s offer.

Topper, one of your best friends, even now–even after everything, told you how stupid of an idea it was to agree.

Even so, he booked his own tickets to come to Hawaii with you.

And that was how you found yourself at an insanely gorgeous resort in Oahu a month later with little to no information on what was actually going on or what would be expected of you. The only consolation was that you were far from the only ex here. It looked like every contestant had one person here for them. You were, however, one of the only… normal-seeming ones. Not for the first time since landing you cursed yourself for going along with this stupidity. Sure they wouldn’t really have another ex to call for Rafe that was actually an ex but that was their problem, not yours. Besides, if there’s one thing MTV can do it’s lie about their reality television shows. Even so, waiting in their stupid green room area altogether for whatever stupid instructions were to come next felt…well, stupid.

You heard your name called over your shoulder and you turned your head. “Hey, pretty girl. Now who is your ex again?” asked an extremely tall, well-built, and objectively gorgeous man next to you. He was grinning at you, the look in his eyes displaying an all-too-familiar attraction. But, if there was one thing you weren’t going to be doing? Fucking any of these weirdos. But, a little flirting couldn’t help. “Was it…was it Ryan?”

“So close. Rafe,” you corrected, giving him a half-smile. “It’s Alex, right? And your ex was Thalia?” He nodded. You hummed, shrugging. They’d shown you the audition videos they’d been given and Thalia seemed…interesting. “She looked super beautiful.”

“Yeah, beautiful and an absolute fucking nutcase,” he said seriously, even as he grinned. “She was always doing some dumb shit. Trying to accuse me of cheating on her when I was at work. Trying to fuck my brother when I told her that we were done.”

You let out a low whistle. “Damn, so you got a score to settle then,” you mused, leaning back in the chair to look at him. “I can respect that. I’m sure the producers love it.”

He nodded. “Oh they do,” he confirmed. He nudged your shoulder playfully and then winked. “Sorry, but I might be dragging your man down because of it. Word on the street is they’ve been paired up the past two weeks or something.” Your heart squeezed in a sad pain and you dutifully ignored it. “Don’t trip though, I’m gonna set him straight on what’s up with Thalia.”

“I don’t care,” you immediately replied, voice sharp and entirely unconvincing.

He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, sure,” he agreed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been sitting here alone in your own little world instead of talking to all of us so I got a feeling you’re a little wrapped up in all this. And in him.” You shook your head in denial, rolling your eyes at the very true accusation. He chuckled again and this time you raised an eyebrow at him. “So what? Did y’all like break up a week before he came on or whatever?”

Clenching your jaw, you reminded yourself that this was just a stranger making conversation. There was no need to blow up on him. That was Rafe’s thing, not yours. “We broke up like a year and a half ago,” you said plainly.

“After how long?” he asked curiously.

“We’ve known each other since we were kids. We started on and off hooking up in…like high school—which our friends hated, of course. We went to separate colleges, but like…we just couldn’t stay away from each other. And by the time my senior year of college came? We were visiting each other practically every other weekend. Our friends had to inform us we’d been dating for like two years already at that point,” you said, shrugging. “But after he officially asked me and we made it exclusive…official…whatever? We were together for a little over three years.”

His nose wrinkled. “And y’all still run in the same circles and all that?” he asked, a sympathetic grimace on his face. You nodded. This time, he let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’s fucked. Known each other your whole damn lives and he still couldn’t post up for you. That’s crazy. You’re way too beautiful to be treated like that.”

“I know,” you said dryly.

“Nah, sorry, sorry,” he said, winking. “I don’t mean it, like, to flirt with you. Promise.” You raised an eyebrow and he laughed. “Okay, only a little.” He sobered up, rubbing his hands together. “Still. Must be hard. Can’t even have that separation.”

You hummed. “No, we did. After the break up for like a month I didn’t talk to him. Avoided all our mutual friends, the whole bit. But then I remembered how much I fucking loved him regardless of our relationship. The…the issues that we had were…I didn’t leave him because I didn’t love him. I left him because I couldn’t keep enabling him. Remembered I didn’t want to lose that. So, like…I started to talk to him again. He was making genuine…good steps toward being a better man. One that he claimed would be worthy of me or whatever. But then five months ago or so he just…stopped talking altogether. Wouldn’t answer a phone call, text…nothing. So I just…took the hint. Next thing I knew I was getting a call from a fucking MTV producer. And now here I am. Talking to you.”

“You want him back?” the guy asked curiously. You glared half-heartedly at him. “No, no. I’m just asking because I fully plan to hook up with Thalia tonight, I ain’t gonna lie to you. So I’m just saying that door’s gonna be open.”

“All I want from him is to know why he went on a dating show and dragged me into it,” you corrected. He smirked at your side and you held up a hand in warning. “Don’t you say a damn word. What was I gonna do? Say no to a free Hawaiian vacation? Fuck that. I’m gonna stay here and enjoy myself.”

“Then go home to eat a metric ton of ice cream and cry, right?” he asked casually.

“Fucking Christ, dude we just met!” you said. “Why you dragging me like I’m the one dating your ex?”

He laughed. “Oh, no, baby girl, I’m gonna be dragging your ex. You? I’m just teasing,” he said.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I mean, hey, feel free,” you said, inclining your head.

That seemed to end the conversation between you both. Just in time, it seemed because a producer then came and started herding the group around like cattle. Each of the exes was briefly obsessed over by assistants who made sure our outfits—ones they chose, of course—hair and makeup were all perfect. Only when everyone was set were you approached by another production assistant.

“Alright listen up!” the stern-looking young woman called. “We’re going to be sending you out in pairs. So whoever your ex is matched with currently is who you’re going to be going out with. We’re sending you out and leaving a minute gap between to get the reactions of the contestants. The plan is to send you out in order from the newest matches to the longest matches.” She glanced down at the clipboard in her hands. “So first we have the newest match Amelia and Jacques, so…Jordan and…also Jordan line up.”

You watched as male Jordan and female Jordan stood next to each other. On and on it went. Ten couples called before you. You felt your hand trembling at your side with unexpressed emotion and you drummed at your thigh in an attempt to stop it. Ten couples called before you.

“I told you they were together, gorgeous, didn’t I?” Alex whispered in your ear as you stood side to side.

“Last couple, and the longest…Rafe and Thalia,” she said. The words stung and settled in your stomach like lead. Your feet moved you into the line at the end before she’d even finished saying yours and Alex’s name. Alex stood next to you, his hand brushing the small of your back, bringing you back down to the moment, snapping out of the distraction. “Alright. From the top. First two, my Jordans, you’re out in two minutes. I’ll be right back to get you.”

“How you feeling hearing that?” Alex whispered to you. “It’s been six weeks in that fucking house and they’ve been together like all of it. I’m fucking pissed.”

“I don’t know why I came here,” you admitted after a moment.

He barked out a laugh. “Well, too late to back out now,” he said dryly.

“Yeah,” you whispered. You folded your arms across your chest watching as the first group was taken out then the next then the next then the next. Abruptly after the last before you were taken out, you looked to Alex. “Do I look okay?

“What?” he asked, surprised.

“Do I look okay? I can’t walk out there if I don’t look okay,” you replied anxiously, wringing your hands in front of you.

He looked you up and down grinning. “You look super fucking hot. Don’t worry about that,” he said easily, slinging his arm around your shoulder, jostling you gently as if you were lifelong friends and hadn’t met two hours earlier. “Now buck up, gorgeous. We gotta get our game faces on. We gotta go.”

As if summoned by his word, the production assistant came back for you two gesturing you two out into the fray. You kept your face carefully neutral, noting Alex doing the same at your side. You exited, eyes doing anything but looking in the direction of the contestants. You moved onto the pedestal where the other exes were, Alex’s hand touching your lower back as you both moved up. You gave him a half-smile, recognizing the reflexive protective gesture. You could feel burning stares on you and you hated it. Evidently, someone didn’t like that.

Eventually, having no other choice, you turned your eyes towards the contestants. The first place your eyes fell was on a taller woman, with perfectly tanned skin, gorgeous dark hair that practically hung to her ass, and—speaking of her ass, boy did she have a good one. Thalia. You could tell because your eyes drifting just to her side was your Rafe. No. Just Rafe. Her Rafe, actually. He looked relatively at ease by his posture. But, both of them were glaring at you and Alex.

“So,” came the voice of the host. “All of the exes are here.”

MTV had managed to bag Jeff Probst of all fucking people. Appropriate, you supposed considering that the show was modeled after Survivor in that there are competitions and voting involved. Much lower stakes all around, physically at least. Everyone nodded at Jeff’s words and you couldn’t help but try to pretend you were on the Survivor jury instead of standing here in this objectively awful situation. There was a low murmur from the contestants’ side. But, on the opposite platform, everyone was silent.

“Wow…pretty silent here,” Jeff commented. “Especially considering I know how loud all of you can be on days like this.” He looked pointedly over at the contestants. “So…how are we feeling? What’s it like seeing your exes standing here looking at you as you stand next to who you hope to be your perfect match?” He made a point of looking over at us and then back to the contestants. “Thalia, why don’t you tell us how you’re doing with all this.”

The girl next to Rafe took a dramatically deep, shaky breath. You watched as Rafe’s hand moved to her back, rubbing it soothingly. He looked down at her, a soft sort of look in his eyes and you felt nauseous in a way that you didn’t expect. You carefully steadied your breathing and focused your gaze just past them. She took a moment, turning towards Rafe and murmuring something that you were sure the mic packs on them could pick up even though you couldn’t hear it. You watched as Rafe replied quietly and then pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head.

It spiked your fucking blood pressure.

“Thalia,” Jeff prompted.

“Sorry, Jeff,” she said, a sugary sweet voice watery and wavering. “It’s just…it’s hard. To see him. And to see her too, honestly. I mean…I mean knowing what he did to me. Knowing what she did to Rafe. Hell, knowing what everyone else’s exes were like too…this just…it’s awful, honestly. We’re here to try and move forward and still somehow it feels like all we’re doing is sliding back.” She fanned at her eyes.

“You seem really upset,” Jeff said, nodding. “How does it…how is it that the mere presence of your exes could cause this much stress for you? Do you not have confidence in your relationships? Do you think this is going to cause problems…have the cracks started to show?”

“Fuck no!” Thalia snapped. “I just don’t want to even see this bitch. I don’t want to see her even fucking breathe in Rafe’s direction. I don’t want her ass to even speak on him. I know that the way she treated him and it doesn’t matter how fucking pretty she is on the outside I know what an ugly, horrible, frigid ass bitch she is on this inside! I don’t need that fucking energy around and Rafe sure as shit doesn’t! It’s not my fault she fumbled and lost him! He’s a fucking catch and I’m not gonna act like I’m not glad about it. He’s my man now and she’s just gonna have to deal with it. That’s it. The end. I don’t fucking care! I don’t want to see her stupid ass face.” She scoffed. “And you know me, Jeff. I’ll fucking beat someone’s ass if they fuck with the people I love.”

You didn’t particularly care about the girl’s words. You didn’t know her. She was an attention-starved brat…or rat if you were going to give in to the more malicious thoughts in your mind. She wanted to be famous…as famous as you could get from trashy reality TV, at least. Her words didn’t matter. Rafe’s reaction certainly did though. He just clenched his jaw and looked up towards the sky and then cast his eyes down. Still, his hand stayed on her back, rubbing it soothingly. That boiled your blood, admittedly. And, it seemed that the girl’s words actually pissed off Alex more.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Thalia. God, you don’t even know her,” he said snappily.

“Oh, and you do? You don’t fucking know her or the shit she’s done. Don’t even talk to me,” she snapped back in reply.

“Just like how these people don’t know all the shit that you’ve done!” he replied. He turned his eyes to Rafe. “And you? This girl? Who you claimed to love for years and years and years and have known like your whole life, what? You’re cool with some girl you met a month ago talking like that? The fuck is wrong with you, bro?”

“Don’t fucking call me bro,” Rafe said, a lazy, hard-edged smirk on his mouth and a glint in his eyes that displayed the carefully concealed rage just beneath the surface. “And you need to watch your fucking mouth coming in here talking like that to anybody.”

“Yeah, okay,” Alex scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Jeff cleared his throat. “Emotions are already running high,” he noted. He said your name, turning all eyes towards you. “You haven’t even said a word and yet you’ve been the center of attention since you came out here. So, what’s all this like for you?”

You hated the feeling of the lights and the eyes all on you. It made you want to twitch. Instead, you kept your face in a mask and shrugged. “Don’t particularly care,” you said blandly.

“Yeah because you’re an emotionless robotic bitch,” Thalia near-yelled.

“Thalia. Let’s let her talk,” Jeff said, his words a suggestion but tone a command. He turned back towards you, gesturing at you with his hand. “Please, go on. Tell us why you decided to come if you knew something like this might happen.”

You gave Jeff a saccharine smile. “Always wanted to visit Oahu,” you said, biting back the sarcasm that threatened to overcome you. The other exes laughed in amusement and agreement at the sentiment but sobered up when Jeff called us back to order.

“Nothing else? It didn’t have anything to do with a desire for closure? To feel like you had to warn someone else about Rafe? To see how you’d measure up to this potential new perfect match he has? These are just some of the reasons that exes on past seasons have given for their appearances,” Jeff pointed out.

“Nah, definitely not for closure…I don’t think this place is where you’d get something like that. You’d kind of be an idiot to try with some people, I’m sure,” you said. Then, you shrugged. “And I have no desire to warn other people about Rafe. Everyone’s got their own red flags and no one listens to advice anyways so there’s absolutely no point.” You hummed, lips twitching up for a moment then flattening out. “And yeah, I don’t care about whatever potential little…perfect match or whatever there is. I don’t compare myself to other people, even when they apparently desperately want me to. So…yeah, Jeff. It really just is the trip to Oahu. And hey? Who else were they gonna call for Rafe?”

Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.

It was so much more than that.

You’d die before admitting it.

“Interesting,” he said. “And, not to make things uncomfortable. But let’s address the elephant in the room. You’ve looked at Rafe maybe twice since you came in here. What’s it like to be with him in a situation like this? What’s it like to have Alex next to you defend you from his own ex’s words all while Rafe doesn’t say anything?”

You let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I don’t usually stare at people, so I certainly don’t feel any sort of need to do so now. And I’m not particularly…surprised by him not defending me. It’s never been his style,” you said simply. You saw him tense slightly and roll his eyes but you ignored him wholly. You glanced over to Alex. “It was nice of Alex to defend me, I guess.” Thalia scoffed and you resisted the urge to launch yourself at her and punch her. You were better than that. You weren’t going to be the asshole here. It was going to be clear that it was her. You were determined. “But I’m a big girl. I can fight my own battles.”

Jeff nodded. “Well, you haven’t reacted to what most people here would consider a fight being brought directly in front of you. Thalia has made it extremely clear how she feels about you. She’s also made it extremely clear what the people in this house apparently think about your past relationship with Rafe. What do you say to all of that? Is that not worth fighting for?”

“That isn’t a fight,” you dismissed. “That’s people who don’t know me or the person that they’re getting…some form of information from. I don’t care how much trauma dumping you do in six weeks. You’re not gonna have a clue who you’re dealing with. I promise you that. So I don’t care what she’s saying at all—I’m never gonna have to see her again after this. I have people who care about me at home. I have people who know me. These people?” You look at all the participants and shrug. “No offense. I’m sure you’re all great in the real world. But you mean absolutely nothing to me. Your opinions mean less than nothing to me. Your opinions about me? Nothing. Your opinions about the relationship that I had with Rafe? Nothing.” You looked back to Jeff. “You want me to be honest, Jeff? I don’t think that the ‘fight’ being brought to me or whatever you wanna say is even worth this conversation.”

Jeff smiled and nodded at you. “One of the most mature responses that you could have in the face of someone being so openly hostile to you a minute after you even come out here,” he said. He looked over at Alex then. “And you, Alex? Do you feel the same?”

“Absolutely, Jeff,” he said, nodding. “I don’t know these people and I don’t care. They’re not why I’m here. But nah, unlike her I am gonna tell the facts of how Thalia is. Because I’m not cool with her walking around here acting like she’s a victim when she knows damn well she isn’t one.” He scoffed. “And knowing that she’s potentially a match with her ex or whatever? I’m sure she feels at least a little the same.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jeff coaxed.

Alex shook his head. “Just saying, Jeff,” he said vaguely. “I’m not gonna get into it yet. That’s for me and them to talk about later.” The nebulous reference clearly being either Rafe or Thalia…maybe even you. You truly didn’t care about that.

“Fair enough,” Jeff said. He clapped his hands together and turned his body towards the participants. “Now, Rafe…you’ve been very quiet so far today since you found out what was going on tonight. What’s going on in your mind?”

Rafe was silent for a moment. You watched as Thalia turned her body towards him placing her hand possessively on his stomach, stroking it as if trying to be soothing and missing the mark entirely. He didn’t spare her a glance. You could tell he was overwhelmed to some level and his brain was shutting down, only letting him focus on one thing at a time. You could see it in the slightly dazed expression and the pinched turn of his eyes.

“I don’t know Jeff. It’s always hard to see people who meant the world to you and then just…didn’t anymore,” Rafe said vaguely. You actively had to remind yourself to keep breathing evenly so your breath wouldn’t hitch in your throat at his words. “I mean, like, for all of us. These are people who were important in our lives somehow. They’re representations of problems we have in dating. All that. So yeah, it’s like seeing…I don’t know…your mistakes personified for a lot of us.”

You couldn’t help but recoil at that slightly, taking a half-step back like you took a physical blow. The words seemed to register with the rest of the crowd. Murmuring happened on both sides, some of disapproval of his words, some of approval of what he’d said. You took a deep breath, making your face neutral when you felt a girl next to you wrap her arm around your waist. You took the opportunity to use it to ground yourself, wrapping your hand around hers in turn. As much as you hated that you needed it, the support was appreciated.

“Wow,” Jeff said. He glanced at you, saying your name, and then back to Rafe. “Do you think she’s a mistake, Rafe?”

“She taught me a lot about myself,” Rafe said. “And I’ll always appreciate that. But not all relationships are supposed to last. Some of them are just to help us learn more about what we want in a relationship and nothing else.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Jeff prodded. “Do you categorize your relationship with her as a mistake?”

Rafe looked at you and you met his eye head-on, refusing to be impacted.

You could tell what the answer was going to be before he even opened his mouth.

“Yes,” he said steadily. Immediately, he looked away.

You felt like someone had reached into your chest and tore your heart out. You were suddenly glad that your hand was wound around the girl so no one would see how you were shaking. Your face you could control. Even your tears. But your hands? No. All you wanted now was to go back to your room and call Topper and tell him that you were going to crash with him in Kona sooner than you planned. Crying to your best friend for comfort was the only thing that would even potentially work. But that would have to wait until the night was over. You would be strong until then. You had to.

The muttering amongst the groups on either side grew louder once again. You kept your brain fuzzy and uninvolved, not letting yourself sink into the sticky discomfort of your feelings that would swallow you and encase you in pain like a fly in fucking amber. You couldn’t do this. Not right now.

“And how does that feel?” Jeff said, the question directed at you. “Hearing Rafe call your relationship a mistake? What’s that like for you? Do you feel it’s a fair representation of the relationship you had with him?”

You paused for a moment, looking towards the ground and then back up, a fake smile turning your lips upward. “Well, I’ve known Rafe more or less my whole life. He had a real temper on him when we were younger. So, it’s nowhere near the worst thing that Rafe has called me,” you said. “And besides, he can call me whatever he wants. It’s his right—we live in a free country, right? Whatever. I’m sure that there are things that I’d call him too if I thought it’d make me feel better.”

“And what are those?” Jeff asked, eager to hear some rebuttal from you, clearly.

“Nah. I’m not doing that,” you dismissed. “I feel no need to say that shit. It’s useless.”

Drug addict. Cokehead. Alcoholic. Asshole. Entitled. Liar. Petty. Mean. Fucking mistake. Those were just a few of the descriptors that came to mind.

“Alright. Let’s move on then,” Jeff said, neatly moving the conversation away from you, looking at the girl who had pulled you to her side in a show of support and was still. “Valeria, I see you here with your arm wrapped around her. Supporting her when you met her less than a few hours ago, really. In a show of support that, sometimes, we don’t even see from our own contestants. You hear her ex-boyfriend say something you deem hurtful and you immediately step in to be kind to her. That’s something that I doubt just anyone would do. Clearly, you’re a person who cares deeply about others. What’s it like to see Patrick, a man you loved, in a situation like this where he’s putting love and attention into others?”

“Well, Jeff. I just think it’s a shitty thing to do. You don’t talk about people you loved like that. Not if you really loved them. Because if you and your new girl or whatever are gonna gang up on her that’s fucked. So I’m gonna step in. As for Pat? He’s always been a very…free-spirited person with his affections. That was never gonna change. So…I sincerely hope he can find some form of happiness,” the girl said easily, the words falling off her tongue while she continued rubbing your back.

The conversation portion with the whole cohort of participants felt fucking endless considering you knew it would take up less than ten minutes of an episode. But, eventually, it mercifully was coming to an end. You could tell Jeff was winding it down, wrapping it up, and ready to move on. But, then he hit you with a curve ball.

“Now, for the true purpose of today: communication. You’ve all matched up for this week. You and your potential match are going to sit and spend two hours with your exes. You’re all going to have a conversation getting to know each other,” Jeff said. “Spend some time actually getting to know each other. Talk about the problems that you had in your failed relationships. Talk about the things that worked. The things that you admired.” He gestured towards Rafe. “Or the things that you feel made the relationship a mistake. This is going to be a game changer in terms of figuring out if you’re a perfect match or not. We only have two couples that you haven’t locked in yet. Just two couples you assume are perfect matches, and even them we don’t know. So? Pay attention. This could be one of the last obstacles between you and one million dollars. After that? You’ll spend an hour talking to your ex. Alone. Try to have a meaningful conversation. Then? You’re going to spend the night, all of you, all of your exes, partying poolside. Take the time then to talk to other exes of people who might otherwise be your perfect match. Make it a good night.”

Your blood felt like it had turned to ice in your veins. You had to spend an hour talking to her and to him. Well, at least you’d have Alex with you, you supposed. But, it still was terrible. This felt, frankly, like a heinous punishment that you didn’t deserve. You forced yourself to appear unmoved.

“I know we’re all excited,” Jeff said. He clapped his hands. “So let’s do this. Let’s split you all up.”

The director called cut then, and the atmosphere changed. Only slightly. The participants all relaxed marginally, posture loosening. But, the exes all remained tense. Valeria rubbed your shoulders next to you. “You okay?” she asked. “That was shitty to say.”

“I’m good,” you said, nodding. You gave her a weak smile. “Thank you though. It was super nice of you. I appreciate it.”

She nodded. “I meant what I said. No one deserves that,” she said. “Good luck with your conversations. They both seem real fucking peachy keen to be around.”

You bit back a laugh but Alex, evidently listening, didn’t bother. He laughed openly. “Yeah. Definitely gonna be a fun few hours for us for sure,” he agreed. He winked at you then. “Promise I’ll try to not fight your boy, gorgeous. But if he runs his mouth like that, I’m gonna shut him up.” He playfully tapped your chin, tilting your head up for a second. “And do shut Thalia’s shit down. She has no right to be talking. And I know she’ll just be running her fucking mouth.” You nodded jerkily, not wanting to even comment on it.

Eventually, you were all ripped apart. You were given a brief rundown of the hour and how long you’d actually have cameras on you, where they’d be, hard conversational limits, and everything in between. They set it up so that you’d be in a room with only cameras set up, not operated by cameramen. It would just be you four. God fucking help you all.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Alex said, trying to offer some form of comfort, his hands folded across his chest as he sat back on one of the couches. Rafe and Thalia were about to be brought in and you both were stressed in different ways. And all you could think about was the cameras set up around the room, recording every last piece of this.

You simply nodded, unable to speak. You felt in your bones that this was going to be absolutely fucking awful. But you’d play nice. You’d pretend you didn’t want to scream. You were surprised, however, when Thalia and Rafe entered the room. Thalia walked in, with a smile on her face, and plopped down on the couch across from Alex and you, throwing her feet up with ease. Rafe followed behind, sitting next to her, letting her practically lay over him.

It was gonna be a long fucking two hours.

An even longer night after that.

Fuck, this was a mistake.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” she demanded.

You didn’t even flinch at her harsh tone. You were working extraordinarily hard to not react with malice to her stupid words or her earlier actions. It was honestly hard. The silence on your part seemed to only serve to anger her more. You didn’t react to her anger and instead stared blankly at her. Alex, next to you, clenched and released his jaw, openly rolling his eyes at her.

“You really don’t get what’s going on here, do you?” she asked rudely. Still, you offered no response and she shook her head disdainfully at you and Alex. “I really don’t care what you and Rafe are or what you do today. You don’t mean shit to me. And at the end of the day? I know where his priorities are now. One day wouldn’t change that.” You tilted your head, still looking at her as if watching paint dry. “You’re not gonna fuck up a million dollars for the people in this house.”

Unable to help it, Alex barked out a laugh. “Fuck, they get Jeff in as a host and suddenly you think this shit actually is Survivor, huh? Fucking crazy,” he said, rolling his eyes. “None of the exes give a fuck about the people you’re with. Or your stupid ass game or any of you, actually.”

Thalia smirked at that. Your hands twitched with the urge to strike her, but you stifled it. “Oh, I definitely believe that,” she cooed, mocking.

“Thals,” Rafe said, sounding tired.

“Baby,” she said immediately, voice fake and innocent. You wanted to scream. Rafe said nothing further. Thalia set her eyes on you then. Her eyes were hard and calculating. “You especially. No one wants you here.”

You leaned back, folding your legs in front of yourself. You crossed your arms and drummed your fingers against your arm. “In what world do you think that I care what you want?” you asked dryly.

Thalia scoffed. “You’re such a cold, heartless, inconsiderate bitch,” she spat.

“Wow, those words mean so much from someone who doesn’t know me at all,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be filling some stupid little challenge now so you can try to get a million dollars for everyone in this house who probably doesn’t need it?”

“You’re just mad that you,” she tried.

“That’s where I’ll stop you,” you drawled, leaning sharply forward. “Shut the fuck up. You sure run your mouth a lot for someone who I am sure is just desperate to be painted as a victim when the editors go through and make their little arts and crafts project with their footage. And that’s all fine and well and good. Really, sweetie, oh I’ll be rooting for you. I will. But, here’s the thing. My emotions? My life? All that? Not for fucking you. And not for a fucking camera.” You gave her a cold smirk, leaning back again. “Far be it from me to make your boyfriend’s mistake worse, right? So you keep your fucking hands to yourself and you stop running your mouth like you’re hard and we won’t have a fucking problem tonight. Then? We never have to see each other again.”

“This is so fucked,” Alex said. He cleared his throat, eyes leveling on Rafe, interrupting the conversation between you and Thalia. “So, you a cheater too just like her, bro? Or are you just gonna be the next guy she tosses aside?”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Don’t fucking talk to me,” he warned.

Alex cut his eyes over to you. “See that’s why I said I’d drag your fucking ex, gorgeous. Because this guy? Something ‘bout his face just…pisses me the fuck off.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Thalia snapped.

“Thalia,” Rafe said, voice sharp. “Don’t make this harder.”

“Oh?” Thalia demanded, rounding on him. “Is this hard for you?” She was sneering at him now in a way that set your teeth on edge. Something about the way she spoke to him reminded you of Rafe’s dad. And suddenly this match made you feel physically ill in a completely different way than it had before. You looked away, hand clenching around your knees. “Well, I’m just so sorry about that, Rafe. How dare I have emotions! I really must be the issue, huh!”

You glanced over at Alex. “She talk to you like that a lot?” you asked him bluntly.

“She don’t know how to talk without being a bitch,” Alex said icily. “And evidently that hasn’t changed.” You bit your tongue to keep from saying well then neither has Rafe’s self-esteem or trauma responses. Alex snapped his head back over to the other pair. “Hey, good to know you haven’t learned how to talk to someone else if you’re so highly evolved Thalia.”

That, for whatever reason, seemed to set off the volatile girl more than she already had been. She looked about ready to launch herself at Alex. Seeming to recognize this, Rafe grabbed her arm gently as if to refocus her. It was something that he’d done to you a fair few times when you’d been together and someone had done something particularly aggravating and you needed to calm down. This proved to be a…bad move. Thalia did indeed refocus. All of her rage onto Rafe, that is. The second that you saw her slap him, though? It was your turn to see white.

You weren’t fully connected to your body as you moved, reacting to the sight. You were on your feet, physically dragging her by her stupidly long hair off of Rafe and throwing her away from him. She seemed stunned that you’d done that. She then seemed pissed you’d done that. So, naturally, her stupid self tried to rush you. Again, you pushed her back, getting closer and closer to being willing to actually hurt her.

“You wanna fucking run that again, princess?” you demanded icily. “Try to hit me, bitch. I’ll fucking hit back I promise you that.” You got closer, glowering at her, practically eye to eye. “You been fucking throwing hands at him? I know that wasn’t the first fucking time? You get off on this shit?” It had been easy to spot the punch she tried to throw. It was even easier still to deflect the punch shoving her far harder. “Try that again and I’m gonna fucking lay your ass out so help me fucking God.”

“Thalia.”

This time the word came from Alex. The word was flat and unimpressed. A quick glance over at him showed a largely disappointed look on his face. And somehow, seeing that seemed to be enough to force Thalia to get a fucking grip. She stopped, slumping back and sulked, walking over to sit down next to Alex. You watched, genuinely disgusted, as she laid her head against Alex’s shoulder and he let her. And when she burst into ugly, blubbering tears you weren’t surprised, but you were angry.

You clenched and unclenched your first three times trying to will yourself to relax some. But, nothing was working. You took a deep breath once…another…another…and another ten times still before you were able to look over at Rafe. He sat there, face pale and eyes cast down. You moved on auto-pilot, the kind of thing that used to be second nature and innate but now felt more…disjointed…forced. You laid your hand softly on his wrist so he’d notice it before moving your hand up to his shoulder. You squeezed it in a pattern of three and his head slowly moved up. He looked at you, dazed and you didn’t know if you were more angry or sad for him, really.

“Stand up,” you said quietly. He looked confused. You clarified. “You’re not staying in this room with that fucking lunatic. And Rafe…I swear to God don’t fucking argue with me on that. You’re lucky I didn’t break her fucking nose. Let’s go.”

Seemingly in a daze, he rose. You cast a look over towards Alex as Rafe followed like a shadow over to the door. You glared at the other man and he gave a half-hearted frown of apology as if he’d expected something like this to happen. That didn’t make anything better. So, you simply shook your head and turned again. You yanked the door open and let Rafe walk out first, face still drawn. You shut the door quietly behind yourself and laid your hand gently on his bicep before gesturing him down the hall. We found not a producer or even an assistant first but instead, Jeff fucking Probst who looked startled to see us.

“You’re supposed to be,” he began.

“I’m supposed to be beating a bitch’s ass for putting her fucking hands on him like some little—” you cut yourself off. You cleared your throat. “Sorry. Forgive me. Thalia fucking hit him. Doesn’t seem like it’s the first time. So if I were you? I’d go ahead and get her the fuck out of here before I call my dad who works in entertainment law and let him tear this piss-poor production apart. And feel free to tell production I said that.”

Jeff winced. “I understand,” he said. He looked at Rafe. “I’m…I’m terribly sorry that happened. That hasn’t happened before as far as I’ve been told. There are mental health staff in the bungalow attached to the house. Go there. I’ll explain everything. Some people will stop by to talk later though, I’m sure.”

“Good,” you replied sharply in place of Rafe who still wasn’t speaking.

Following Jeff’s advice, you shepherded Rafe towards that bungalow where a kind woman gestured you two in before leaving to go get some…paperwork? Who the fuck knew? Who the fuck cared? You looked over at Rafe who was still silent, face pinched. It wasn’t hard to see his leg slightly shaking and the jittering of his hands.

“I hate knowing that wasn’t the first time and that you’d deny it to protect her,” you said bitterly. “Rafe you don’t know her. And you deserve better than that. Just like you always have.”

“I don’t,” he said, his voice coming out short and quiet. “I don’t deserve anything good.”

You pursed your lips and shook your head. “Thought we’d moved past the self-deprecating bullshit,” you commented. “My mistake.” You sighed. “Rafe…your family and friends all love you still. Even now. So don’t waste…your heart on shit like this. Fuck this show. You can afford to break whatever contract you had. Hell, my dad could find a loophole and sue for you I guarantee it. But you…you can’t stay here. You…you deserve good things. And that? That…person...who they’re trying to call your perfect match?” He stayed silent. “You got matched with her because fundamentally you still find yourself in the same place that your dad wanted you to be. You think that you owe everything to everyone else and don’t want to take responsibility or…ownership over anything. For fuck’s sake, Rafe. Do you really want her to be your spokesperson? You want anyone like her to be your spokesperson?” You shook your head vehemently. “You are so much better than that. I don’t…I don’t know if you can see it. I don’t care if you can see it. But it’s true. You threw away a year of sobriety and years of building real self-confidence and not your fake bravado bullshit for this?”

“No you don’t understand,” Rafe said. “I am sober. And I didn’t want–”

The door to the bungalow opened and the woman bustled in, hands absolutely full of stuff. You rose to your feet before the woman even had to open her mouth to tell you to leave. “Cast only,” she said anyway, uselessly.

“Yeah, right,” you said dryly.

“Wait…where are you going?” Rafe asked, face breaking open into vulnerability for a moment.

“Home,” you said shortly. “Worst vacation…ever.” He looked hopelessly confused at that news. “You should call my dad, Rafe. Like now. You are not supposed to go through this shit alone. You know he’ll help you. You have his number.”

“I can’t…they…I don’t have my phone,” Rafe muttered, looking away from you.

Your eyes darkened. “Fuck’s sake these people,” you muttered. You took your phone from your pocket and called your dad before the woman across you could say a word. You gave your dad a curt explanation and he said he’d be in Hawaii in ten hours before briefly chewing you out for not saying where you were going beforehand.

“You can’t leave,” the woman said. “We need to—”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask, go through my fucking lawyer,” you said sharply, handing her your father’s business card. You glanced at Rafe. “He’ll be here in ten hours. Most likely super pissed. So…he’ll raise hell for you.”

“Are you…” Rafe trailed off. You raised an eyebrow. “Will you…stay?”

Your heart shattered and healed and shattered again in an ugly, impossible sort of way. “I…” you tried, trailing off immediately. “You…” Still no luck. Eventually, you were able to settle on, “I need to leave. I need to go home. I…I can’t fucking be here. I can’t see…this. I can’t hear…whatever you’re gonna tell my dad. I can’t see whatever footage he’s gonna have them dredge up. I need to go. Home.” You looked at him, letting out a shaky breath. “And you should consider doing the same thing. As soon as humanly possible.”

Your name spilled from his lips and it sounded so right and so wrong in that moment. “I…I’m…” he tried, voice breaking.

“No,” you denied, giving him a bitter smile. “Don’t. I don’t…I don’t want to hear it, Rafe. I really don’t. I wasn’t going to see someone hurt you. I never have. I never will. But facts are facts right?” His face fell, knowing what you meant. “And I’m a mistake. Let’s not drag it out any longer, right?” You shook your head. “Good luck, Rafe. I…wish nothing but the best for you.”

“I didn’t…” Rafe tried. “I can explain.”

“No,” you denied, holding a hand up. “I can’t do this. Not here. Not now. I’m…done with this. With all of this. Truly.” You let out a devastated-sounding, sad sort of sigh and offered an obviously fake tiny smile. “Just let me know when my dad gets here—you know he’ll forget to.” He went to speak and you held up a hand. “He’ll get your phone back if these psychos don’t give it to you by then.”

“I will,” he said immediately in reply, a sad, almost puppy-dog-like look in his eyes.

You sighed, biting back the urge to cry or scream…or anything else really. “You know what? Never mind. Call Topper. I…just…just let him know. He’ll tell me,” you said, voice going numb.

“Wait,” Rafe said, his voice shaky. “I…I want to tell you.”

“Rafe…please,” you said, giving him your best pleading look and more than willing to beg him if it meant he’d give you a break.

“I…okay. I…I’m sorry,” he said, frowning, looking genuinely remorseful.

As you started to leave, rage somehow carrying you as the influx of adrenaline faded, your name fell from Rafe’s mouth once more. You turned your head to look at him, silent and waiting. It took a few moments for him to crack. The time lingered, settling into crevices of yourself that long seemed gone—abandoned and disappeared with Rafe’s own missing presence. Yes, this was too hard already and the situation had just made it impossible.

“Get home safe,” he said, his voice breaking.

You let out a bitter laugh turning back around and heading out, refusing to turn your head. You knew that if you were to look back you’d cave immediately. And you couldn’t do that.

“You too, Rafe,” you offered blandly.

[gallavich-headcanon]

mickey cant ignore it anymore. he needs help. -> Maybe the witched that cursed him tried to teach him a lesson about being mean, but she ended up helping him accept the fact that he needs help sometimes.

he believes its a sign that hes a good person -> Honestly, I feel the same. Cats (real ones, not cursed people) are a great judge of character.

its exactly the same except now his replies come out as little meows. -> I bet he gets so frustrate when he wants to be mean to Ian and say something sarcastic and all that comes out is "meow meow" and Ian takes it as something positive hahaha

petting ians face with a paw to get him up and moving to the bed -> This is so sweet of him. He grows attached to Ian... He never planned on it but he likes comforting Ian. He likes seeing Ian's eyes light up when he waits for him by the door when he hears Ian's keys fumbling to unlock the apartment door.

how do you think ian will react? -> First, I think Ian would think that he has lost his mind. (unless it's not so abnormal in this AU) After he takes a moment, I think he would be mortified! He probably told Mickey his entire life story and embarrassing things that happened to him, thinking that Mickey doesn't understand him. He probably says something about the fact that Mickey could have found a way to communicate with him! Maybe type it on Ian's laptop or like 'write' with his pews on something. I think he would have a million questions to ask him. I wonder how he would feel about suddenly being attracted to Mickey. He's a very cute cat but Ian wasn't sexually attracted to a cat.

im thinking this could potentially be a nice slow burn, with some angst and a happy ending -> YES. Oh my god Mars I'm very happy you told me about this AU idea! maybe you and @plainest / @babygirlmickey could collab on this if you don't have the energy / time to write it? I would read the hell out of it!

hi this is my 3rd time writing it (my app keeps crashing) and ngl im kind of annoyed so ill keep this short and sweet cus the last time i tried writing the idea out here it just disappeared, so:

a magic au

mickey is a dealer of sorts, he gets his clients all and any ingredients they need for spells and potions, as well as other things they might need. he gets a new client and the first meeting doesnt go well, the person isnt too keen on his gruff and no-bullshit attitude. they end up fighting and mickey is cursed into a cat, the only way to break the curse being to get someone to treat him the way he treated the witch.

ian is a healer witch, he meets mickey in one of the worst ways he could - as hes walking out of the corner shop he almost knocks the cat out with the force with which he opens the door.

the cat - mickey - hisses at him, his tail held out stiff and straight very obviously unhappy with being hit. ian, lover of all things living, immediately feels terrible crouches down and takes something out of one of his grocery bags and holds it out to mickey.

the cat looks at him doubtfully but smelling the piece of ham the red head is holding out in his palm mickeys tummy rumbles almost painfully (its been two days since hes been turned and hes had no luck in getting anyone to feed him or finding anything to eat in the wild) so he carefully moves closer to the man and takes the ham out of his hand quickly and practically devours it.

ian feeds him a few more pieces until the cat visibly calms down, he even pets it scratchingg behind its ear as he whispers apologies. then he stands up slowly and with one last look at the cat moves to get to his apartment. he doesnt notice the panicked look on the cats face.

it takes mickey all of 3 seconds to decide that hes going to follow the man. in the last 2 days no one seemed to even notice him, he cant chance another 48 or so hours of hunger and general misery.

he follows the man home and hopes the stranger will at least give him some more food before he closes his doors in his face.

ian doesnt notice the cat is following him until hes in front of his house, and by then he feels like he has to get the cat in for at least one night.

he makes dinner for both himself and the cat and after spending the evening in front of the tv he goes to bed. during the night mickey wakes up and decides its as good time as any to get started at annoying the man until he shouts at him. admittedly he feels kind of bad to be pushing stuff to the ground and digging in the plants but its his only chance at getting back to being human. by the time hes done its almost dawn and the sky is turning grey, he curls up next to the bed and waits for the man to wake up and start screaming.

except he doesnt. when ian gets up, moves out if the bedroom and into the combined living room and kitchenhe notices the mess right away, but instead of getting angry he just chuckles to himself lowly. he did bring a cat home and as far as hes aware cats need entertainment to stimulate their brains. he quickly cleans up before getting breakfast (for himself and the cat), getting dressed and leaving for work. when he comes back, hes carrying a bag filled with different types of cat toys.

mickey is so fucked.

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

tldr;

mickey gets cursed into a cat and to break the curse someone has to treat him the same way he treated the witch (i.e. yell at him) ian finds him in front of the grocery store and feeds him, mickey follows him home and ian takes him in after which mickey gets fed again only to decide during the night that if hes ever to go back to being human he needs to piss the guy off in a major way, cue mickey knocking stuff off the table, and other places. it seems to be going well, the destruction not too much but seemingly enough to get yelled at. except ian doesnt yell, he doesnt even get mad. he lets out a barely audible giggle and as he comes home from work later that hday, hes carrying a variety of cat toys.

i got this idea at 2am yday and couldnt get it out of my head or write it down in a way that made sense so here is a bunch of words that seemed to make sense to me, hope you dont mind. also would really appreciate your thoughts♡

xx

HOLY SHIT MARS! OKAY I AM SO EXCITED!

mickey is a dealer of sorts, he gets his clients all and any ingredients they need for spells and potions -> This reminds me of a fic I read but I can't think of the name...

mickey is cursed into a cat, the only way to break the curse being to get someone to treat him the way he treated the witch. -> okay this is very fucking cool. So he treated the witch like shit and now he needs someone to treat him like shit...

ian, lover of all things living, immediately feels terrible -> of course he does! I would too! poor kitten! He's so tiny and pretty.

he doesnt notice the panicked look on the cats face. -> poor Mickey! he's probably so tired, especially after finally eating for the first time in two days. he probably needs a warm place to take a fucking nap.

but instead of getting angry he just chuckles to himself lowly. -> Oh Ian you're such a sweet man. Mickey is never turning back into a human, isn't he?

MARS I need more! I am not kissing you better continue this story! This is such a cute idea. Mickey will try to do the most fucked up things and while Ian probably punish him (no snack, spray him with a water when he tries to eat the plants) he doesn't yell. Mickey tries to bite him and Ian thinks that they're playing.

But life as Ian's cat isn't so bad. He gets cuddles and warm bed and food, He can watch tv while Ian is at work. I'm dying to know how long it takes Ian to realize this isn't a real cat.

[jellybeanforest-a-go-go]

One of the things that perplexes me about the anti-AO3 crowd is that they have the gall to come to AO3 and demand moderation when AO3 was clearly and explicitly established in response to censorship and fandom purges of more popular (at the time) fandom spaces. AO3 was created not because the original crew were huge fans of problematic (but legal) content but because they recognized that content’s right to exist regardless of any one person’s particular taste. AO3 is popular precisely because they don’t moderate. I left fandom in like 2012-ish around the time of one of the big FFN purges. At the time, FFN was the big site and AO3 was a little nothing site with a fraction of what FFN had. I returned in 2017 when AO3 suddenly seemed the place to be for writers and readers of newer fandoms. There’s a reason for that.

It’s like... okay, let’s say there’s a dog park. The dog park is sprawling and super popular among owners of all dog breeds and sizes. There are separate spaces for terriers and large dogs with signs posted so you know what types of dogs are allowed where. All of the sudden, some small dog owners, the ones with teacup poodles and yorkies or whatnot, decide that the pit bulls all the way on the other side of the park are a PROBLEM because pits are dangerous. Doesn’t matter if they only play in the one area that is specifically designated for them, and there are warning signs indicating their presence. They’re a breed that shouldn’t exist because what if a child tried to pet one? 

Think of the children! 

No matter that children aren’t allowed in the pitbull section; they might break in unaccompanied by an adult to pet some pitbulls. All pitbull owners are dangerous, irresponsible assholes who want nothing more than to train their pits to eat small dogs and attack kids. In fact, if you have ever owned a pit, not only are you a bad person, you are a literal murderer who trains your dog to attack children on sight. 

Think of the children!

The anti-pitbull crowd is persistent, and pits are not very popular in general, and a lot of people don’t like them, so the dog park decides to ban pitbulls. But the purge also sweeps away German Shepherds (a popular but potentially dangerous breed also known as explicit slash) and Boxers and other large dogs. Maybe some of these dogs were dogs the anti-pitbull crowd even liked, but hey, all is done in the name of safety, right? Because:

Think of the children!

It’s not that you can’t find pitbulls in the dog park anymore. They’re still there, except now they aren’t tagged and easily identified as pitbulls and aren’t confined to one area. They’re much easier to stumble across by accident. But hey, maybe 1 or 2 of them will be reported and kicked out for a spell until the owner sneaks them in again. It’s not like anyone is really checking every single dog at the door for pit ancestry. It’s too unwieldy; there are millions of dogs and not enough staff to do so, and they can’t quite agree on what a pitbull is anyway.

Anyways, a few of the dog owners think this is bullshit. Maybe some own pits but mostly they own like Golden Retrievers and Black Labs (that are technically still allowed in the park, for now, but hey, you never know what will happen). They decide they’re going to build their own dog park where all dogs are welcome as long as they stay in their designated sections. It’s a small operation at first, but it’s free and staffed with enthusiastic volunteers, and as more dogs are booted out of the first dog park, some entire segments of dog owners (including many that don’t own pits) gravitate to the new dog park. It’s friendlier there. They accept everyone, and won’t randomly kick out the odd bulldog for looking pit-like. All their friends are starting to go to the new dog park. 

New dog park grows, gains a lot of traction over the old dog park, and becomes the place to be.

Only now, the anti-pitbull crowd is also there. They use it frequently and like its amenities, but there’s only one problem. They allow pitbulls here. Nevermind that they’re tagged and in their designated area. What if a child tried to pet one?

Think of the children!

So they start reporting pitbulls. The pitbulls are a danger to society; they should be taken out back and shot. Why TF would anyone allow pitbulls into their dog parks??? The staff looks at them, shrugs, and points out their policy, which has been there since the beginning, which is the reason for their popularity and what everyone agreed to when they entered the dog park, that says All Dogs Allowed. 

‘But that’s not right,’ the anti-pitbull crowd screeches. 

Think of the children!

Other dog owners point out that old dog park still exists; they don’t have to frequent this one.

‘But this dog park is more popular! More people will play and interact with my dog here!’ they say, stomping their feet. ‘You should accommodate me and my preferences.’

‘No.’

They throw themselves to the floor, thrashing their arms about, in full tantrum mode. ‘Then I rather this dog park not exist. It is a danger to children everywhere!.’

Think of the children!

Think of the Goddamn children!

And that’s basically the story of AO3. AO3′s lack of content moderation is not a flaw but a feature. And if you don’t like it, FFN still exists. Have fun trying to avoid untagged pitbulls there.

[tpwkjerii]

oh, zombie!

you’re certain you’ve met the end when you’re cornered by flesh-hungry zombies, but a man with a bat and the bone structure of a god proves you otherwise.

pairing: jungkook x reader

warnings: cursing, shooting guns, weapons, mentions of death, minor angst, fluff, blood, zombies (duh), attempted murder, kinda heated makeout session, namjoon is an accidental cockblock, kissing

genre: zombie apocalypse au, thrill/gore (not too descriptive or graphic), strangers to lovers

word count: 9.8k+

a/n: the zombies in this fic have enhanced smell for corpses and human stress hormones!! and help i have like two other jk drafts rn (& disclaimer: i don’t own the gif above!!)

Fucked.

That was the best word to describe you and your current predicament. Now, with the loud groans of at least four zombies and heavy bangs against the door ringing in your ears, you were really starting to regret entering this grocery store.

You knew you should have trusted your gut when you first approached the store, but the thought of having actual food (not the dry ramen packets you were currently surviving on) and more water (you were on your last bottle) tempted you to push open the glass door and rush into the supermarket without so much as a noise scan. It took only eight seconds for the zombies and their enhanced smell to know that you entered. You were barely able to grab a single bottle of water before you heard an eerily low groan and immediately rushed for shelter in the dairy freezer.

Your twenty seconds of recklessness led you to where you are now, pushed against a cold door while zombies banged heavily against it. You held onto the inner lock as you reached down for your gun, which you were certain only had a few more bullets; regardless, it was your best shot at escaping this store alive. Gathering yourself, you inhaled and exhaled deeply with hope that you could shoot them all fast enough.

Just as you were about to release the lock and face your fate, the groans fell silent and were replaced by the sound of heavy and almost cartoon-like thwacks. Your feet froze as you realized that that was no sound or action a zombie could make — there was another human outside. You had only a few seconds to decide your next move, which would ultimately decide your future and whether you die in the middle of a grocery store dairy storage freezer or not.

Whoever killed the zombies outside could either be a kind-hearted person who didn’t want to see you succumb to a tragic fate or a person who wanted to save you from death by zombies only to kill you for your survival supplies. Considering the fact that they just knocked at least four zombies on their own, you prayed that it wasn’t the latter.

A few silent seconds passed until you eventually moved your hand, and you prayed that this wouldn’t be your second fatal mistake of the day as you slowly unlocked and opened the heavy steel door. Your gun visible in your other hand, you stepped out to see who your potential savior (or murderer) was.

Your eyes landed on the face of an extremely handsome man. Despite the obvious disarray he was in (then again, everyone who manages to survive during a zombie apocalypse is at least some form of messed up), it was clear as day that he was attractive. He had alluring doe-shaped eyes that were deceivingly innocent-looking, long dark hair that fell messily over his forehead, and the facial structure of an absolute god. The cut on his lip, small scratches scattered across his face, and his silver earrings only added to his intimidating impression, and upon seeing the heavy metal bat he held in his right hand, you instinctively tighten your grip on your handgun.

You were so enraptured by his captivating appearance that you nearly forgot the situation you were in.

“Who - who are you?” you finally asked, attempting to keep your voice as level as possible and praying that your face wasn’t red since he definitely noticed you checking him out.

He didn’t look intimidated at all, and a part of you died internally when his lip curled into a smirk. This was not looking good for you. “Are you gonna put that gun down?” he asked, the depth and warmth of his voice throwing you off. He laughed as you only blinked and he continued, “You certainly didn’t have a problem with me when you were checking me out earlier, so why keep the gun up now, babygirl?”

If you weren’t blushing before, you definitely were now. You cursed under your breath as you moved your hand down and quickly placed your gun back in your thigh holster, deciding that he was safe and probably wouldn’t kill you. “I wasn’t checking you out,” you muttered, and he laughed at your obvious lie.

“Whatever makes you feel better, babygirl,” he said, a teasing tone in his airy voice.

Your brows knitted together in irritation at the pet name. “Don’t call me that,” you mumbled, looking down at your worn sneakers awkwardly.

He laughed again, and you found yourself oddly enchanted to his tiny laugh. He took a step towards you, causing you to look up at him as he told you, “I won’t call you ‘babygirl’ if you tell me what your name is.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly before you answered, “My name’s Y/N, what’s yours?”

He grinned, which somehow turned his entire demeanor upside down. With his wide smile, he was no longer the intimidating guy that took down three zombies on his own with just a bat, but rather a nice guy that just wanted to help out a fellow human from being killed by zombies.

“Jungkook,” he answered simply as he began to walk away from you and through the store aisles.

“Jungkook,” you repeated, familiarizing the way his name rolled off your tongue with a nod. “So, Jungkook, what brought you into this store?” you asked, rushing to walk alongside him and skim through the aisles.

“This your first time outside, Y/N?” he asked, abruptly stopping to turn and look at you. You froze and dropped the bag of chips you were holding at the sudden eye contact. He sighed and moved to pick up the chips and place it back onto the shelves. “I was wandering around the area, and I saw that you walked right into a trap,” he told you.

“A trap?” you asked, your mouth falling open in surprise.

He nodded and motioned for you to help him fill his rucksack with water bottles. “Looters will leave trace scents or pieces of human remains to attract zombies to popular places survivors will drift to. Once any survivors enter and get killed by the zombies, the looters will come back, off the zombies, and take their supplies,” he explained with a grimace.

Your face twisted, and you suddenly felt even luckier that Jungkook saved you. “How do you know? I mean, how did you know that the looters were here?” you asked, still a bit unsettled at the fact that you basically walked straight-first into a death trap.

Jungkook zipped up his backpack, now full of at least 20 water bottles, and headed towards the dried foods. “I spotted one of their vans when I was walking around, so I figured they were in the area. Then I saw you entering the store and bingo — I was right,” he told you nonchalantly as he stuffed various dried fruits and snacks into his pockets.

“Take some of these,” he added, gesturing towards the few remaining dark chocolate bars.

You nodded, briefly admiring his casual attitude as you shoved two handfuls of the chocolate into your jacket pockets. “How did you recognize them? Have you had any… run-ins with them?” you wondered curiously, picking up your pace to match his quicker steps as he made his way down the remaining store aisles.

“They approached me to join them when this whole thing started,” he started, pausing to laugh softly at the shocked expression on your face. He shook his head as he continued, “I said no because what they do is twisted. Luring people to their deaths for some sick form of fun. They say they do it for the supplies but we all know that’s a lie.”

You nodded your head thoughtfully. “Oh, well, I guess that’s an admirable and sane choice.”

He murmured in agreement, and you walked alongside him, unconsciously humming a song that had been stuck in your head for a while. Being with Jungkook, who was both stronger and more knowledgeable than you, provided you with a sense of comfort. Additionally, he wasn’t shooing you off and willingly accepted your company (for the past 10 minutes, at least). Before you even knew it, you two reached the front store doors.

He walked out first, holding the door open behind him. You faltered, a second thought of “does he really want me to go with him?” running through your head.

He raised a brow, opening the door a bit wider. “You coming?”

“Wh- what?” you stuttered in disbelief.

“Do you want to come with me or not?” he asked. “C’mon, babygirl. We don’t have all day. Those looters are bound to come back soon.”

At the mention of those evil people, your legs moved instantly. You rushed out of the door towards Jungkook’s side and eagerly turned to face him. “Where to?”

He laughed, and you swore it was one of the most enchanting tones you’ve ever heard, before saying, “What’s the place you’re staying in like?”

You thought back to your small home and the painful disarray it was in. It was a miracle that you were able to survive so long considering how ill-prepared you were for an apocalypse to happen.

“Er, probably not as good as yours,” you answered sheepishly.

“Fair enough.” He nodded at the anticipated answer and began to walk in the opposite direction that you came from. You continued alongside him, internally screaming at how lucky you were. Not only did Jungkook completely save your life, he let you stay with him! You didn’t understand why, seeing as you were arguably an impediment to his survival, but you were grateful regardless.

The city around you was lifeless. What was once home to millions of citizens and the hustle and bustle of daily routines was reduced to empty stone buildings, the only people left either roaming as the undead or too afraid to come out. Within two weeks, the city and all its people changed entirely.

As you walked alongside Jungkook, you wondered what type of life he led before the apocalypse. Was he a student like you? Did he have a job? Was he a police officer or firefighter? Did he have family?

Several questions imposed themselves in your brain, and it was enough to almost distract you from Jungkook’s words.

“That van over there is a looter van,” he informed you, pointing towards a parked black van that had unrecognizable red symbols sprayed on it. “Each one has different symbols on it, but they’re all in red so they know where each one is and don’t mess up a potential job.”

You nodded and absorbed his words. You definitely passed a van like that when you were walking towards the store. “That’s good to know,” you whispered, your voice strained with mild fear.

He didn’t say anything else in response and continued forward, gently tugging you along with him when you lingered in your spot a second too long as you stared at the van.

Jungkook led you for a few more minutes, each second only increasing your curiosity as to where he was taking you and what he was really like. Silence prevailed until you heard a low groan and the distinguishable sound of a foot dragging along gravel. You stiffened and unconsciously moved to grip Jungkook’s hand.

He stopped in his tracks and gently pushed you towards a building wall. Once both your backs were pressed flat against the stone wall, he adjusted the grip on his bat and you reached for the gun in your thigh holster. The zombie’s groans grew louder as it approached. You knew they couldn’t see and had a very limited sense of hearing, but you wondered if you or Jungkook had anything on you that attracted its hunger for rotting flesh or stress.

You held your breath as the zombie came into view, its decaying body and unsettling groans disturbing you. It walked closer, although not directly towards you. You raised your gun the same time as Jungkook lifted his bat, but you didn’t have to pull the trigger and Jungkook didn’t have to swing as the zombie only walked straight past you two, leaving only its rotting scent behind.

You breathed out in relief and relaxed your shoulders as you placed your handgun back in its holster. “Thank god,” you whispered.

“Let’s go,” was all Jungkook said before he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. It seemed like you weren’t the only one anxious to get out of the open.

Jungkook’s home was much, much better than yours (if you could even call your tiny studio that).

“Holy shit,” you whispered as you admired the fortified mansion. High stone walls and a metal gate surrounded the large two-story house. “You have this place all to yourself?” you asked Jungkook. Now you were really curious what his profession before this was.

He shook his head as he unlocked the gate with a key. “A few friends live with me,” he answered simply before slipping the key back in his jean pocket. “They should all be awake by now.”

You nodded and followed closely behind him as he walked up the short pathway to the front door. As he opened the door, you heard a loud yell come from within.

“Kookie!” he yelled, his voice smooth and deep.

You saw Jungkook’s face turn red as he quickly shut the door with a slightly mortified facial expression.

“Uh -”

The door burst open. “Kookie!” a man shouted before enveloping Jungkook into a tight hug. You stepped to the side, observing the affectionate interaction with a grin. The man who barreled into Jungkook had black, fluffy hair that was held back by a black hairband. He was on the thinner side, but still built, and appeared to be a bit taller and tanner than Jungkook. When he released the hug and turned to face you, your breath hitched.

He was attractive.

“Who’d you bring home?” he asked Jungkook, a boxy smile directed towards you.

“Her name is Y/N, I caught her just before some zombies got her,” Jungkook answered as he nudged you and the man inside.

As you stepped through the front door, you observed the large home’s tasteful interior. A pristine white kitchen was to the right of you, apparently well-stocked based on the two open cabinets that were filled with snacks and ramen. To the left of you was an open living room with one large couch and two smaller ones surrounding a paper-filled coffee table and a large TV mounted onto the wall.

Impressive, you thought.

The fluffy-haired man stepped in front of you, his contagious smile still going strong. “I’m Taehyung. It’s nice to meet you!”

You smiled at him. It’d been a while since you met new people, much less people with such warm and friendly dispositions. “It’s nice to meet you too,” you returned honestly.

Jungkook cleared his throat, announcing suddenly, “I’ll show Y/N around.”

You turned to face him, noticing that he had taken off his bags and leather jacket. His bare arms were now exposed, and you immediately noticed how sculpted he was. A sleeve of various tattoos decorated one of his arms, drawing your attention to the ink on his defined muscles. His other arm was more bare, but still had a few figures on it. Realizing that you were probably staring for too long, you tore your eyes away with a nod before you set down your own bag and followed Jungkook.

He took you past the living room and kitchen through a hallway, showing you where the first floor bathroom, in-home gym, and office were. You gaped at the book-filled office that also housed several weapons. Lined across the wall were several guns, knives, and other weapons you couldn’t even name. After you recovered from what you saw in the office, he led you up the stairs.

“This is Taehyung and Jimin’s room,” he said, pointing to the first door in the hallway. “Jin and Yoongi’s.” He pointed to the door next to the first one. “Namjoon’s.” He then pointed towards the first door on the opposite side of the hall. “And mine.” He pointed to the door next to Namjoon’s.

You nodded, resisting the urge to ask about their family members since you knew it could be a sensitive subject for them. “Are they all home?” you wondered. “Well, except for Taehyung, I guess,” you added as an afterthought.

Jungkook nodded. “Jin, Yoongi, and Jimin are probably in their rooms. Namjoon will be out for the next few days getting some stuff, so you can stay in his room for now.”

Your lips parted in shock. “No, no! That’s his room. It’s fine, I can sleep on the couches if anything!”

“It’s fine, he won’t mind,” Jungkook insisted.

But you shook your head in persistence. “Really, I’m completely fine with the couch. I wouldn’t want to make Namjoon feel uncomfortable or anything.”

He sighed and shrugged, seemingly relenting to your wishes. “Alright, we can head back down then,” he said as he turned back to the stairs.

Before you followed him, your eyes landed on the last door all the way down the hallway. You had no idea what was behind it, yet it still emitted an ominous and mysterious aura that called out to you. “Wait,” you said before you even thought about it. Just as he turned to face you, the realization that he probably didn’t tell you what was in that room for a reason (whatever that was) hit you.

“Er - nevermind!” You laughed awkwardly, hoping he would drop it. But it was too late — he already noticed your lingering gaze on the locked door.

“Don’t go in that room,” he stated bluntly before turning around, not giving you a chance to respond. “There’s nothing in there that’s of importance to you,” he added as he walked down the stairs. You rushed to follow him after him, still intimidated to be in this big house with completely new people, muttering words of agreement.

Everyone in this house was shockingly nice. Jimin was undeniably kind and spent your entire first night at your side, making sure you felt comfortable in this new place. Yoongi, although more reserved, didn’t hesitate to check if you were alright whenever you spaced out or got scared by a sudden noise. Lastly, Jin was incredibly attentive; from asking you if you had any food allergies or if you preferred baths or showers, he did his best to welcome you.

(They were all also really attractive, but that's besides the point).

Before you knew it, a week passed. Seven days of playing board games with Jimin and Taehyung, cooking with Jin, talking about conspiracy theories with Yoongi, and working out (and trying to avoid) with Jungkook.

Why were you trying to avoid him? Well, despite having met Jungkook first, you couldn’t help but start to feel awkward around him. Not because he made you feel uncomfortable or the reverse, but rather due to your undeniable attraction to him. It certainly didn’t help that his personality complemented his beautiful appearance well. On the outside, Jungkook appeared cold and intimidating, but on the inside he was soft and kind. He was exactly like one of the many fictional characters you’d fallen in love with before.

Your first official day at the house, you kept your cool pretty well. Of course, Jungkook and his endearing behavior and large, doe eyes had to ruin it. Then again, it was also on you for not listening to your initial instinct of avoiding the gym machines. What exactly happened?

Well, after three failed attempts of using the machine from hell (you didn’t even know it’s name), Jungkook finally decided that it was just getting sad and moved from his machine to help you.

“You’re supposed to use your arms to bring it back,” he said with a teasing tone as he neared you. You jumped in your seat and looked up at the mirror to see his figure stopping directly behind you. Your breath hitched as he leaned down and… oh fuck, did his arms just brush up against yours?

Face burning red, you looked away with a violent cough. “Er, I knew that.”

He laughed softly at your embarrassed expression, the enchanting sound of his lap wreaking havoc on your already weak heart. You turned towards him and gently pushed his chest with a scoff.

“You don’t have to laugh at me,” you grumbled.

“Sometimes I can’t help it,” he countered with a smug smile.

You particularly liked when he smiled since he reminded you of a bunny whenever he did — especially when he had a large smile and his eyes formed happy, crescent moons with twinkling stars. Jungkook’s grin (and laugh) was as infectious as Taehyung’s and Jin’s, and he was, overall, a perfect person in your eyes. Even as he made fun of you (jokingly, of course), you swore he was sent from the stars above.

Deciding it best to not catch feelings for your savior and person who graciously housed you, you tried to keep your distance from him since then. Whenever he entered the room, you tried your best to subtly leave (bless Seokjin for being exceptionally understanding of your “cramps”) and when he tried talking only to you or directing the conversation to you, you roped someone else into the discussion. It worked for the most part as you talked to the others more and ignored the way Jungkook made your heart race whenever you thought about him, but today you were out of luck.

“Y/N and Jungkook, supplies run today.”

You gaped at Jin from your spot on the couch. “What? Me? Are you sure?” you asked, silently pleading with your eyes.

He rolled his eyes and nodded, bending down to gently pat your head. “Yes, you. Don’t worry, you’ll have Kookie with you.”

“And this,” Yoongi added as he dropped a gun much larger than your small handgun in your lap.

You looked up at him in shock. “I don’t know how to use this!”

He shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you’ll need to use it.”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’re gonna have to pull your weight if you wanna stay with us,” Taehyung told you, winking at you when Jungkook entered the living room with his gear. Your eyes widened at him, but you couldn’t say anything as Jungkook approached you.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

You sighed and stood up begrudgingly. With an excessively-large gun in hand and empty backpack strapped to you, you exited the house with Jungkook at your side. Together, you silently walked down the same path he took you up almost a week ago.

You embraced the peacefulness of this secluded area. Jungkook’s home was quite secluded, and the surrounding trees were home to blissful breezes and a variety of chirping animals. Despite the downfall of humanity, it seemed that wildlife was flourishing, you noted.

“So I guess I’ll ask now,” Jungkook started, capturing your attention. You turned and looked up at him, anxiously waiting for him to continue. “Were you staying with anyone before? I assume not since you’re with us now…”

You shook your head. Your voice lowered as you answered, “I was all by myself.” He frowned while you continued. “My parents were on a trip abroad with my best friend Hobi when it happened.” Your eyes teared up as you mentioned your family and Hobi, who was basically your older brother.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“It’s ok,” you mumbled. “The last call I got from my parents before all the cell towers went down, Hobi was doing alright with them. I’m thankful that they have him.”

“I’m sure that Hobi is doing a good job taking care of himself and your parents,” he responded soothingly.

You nodded, blinking your tears away as you diverted your gaze towards your moving feet. “So what about you?” you asked after a few silent moments. “Do you have any family?”

He cleared his throat and tightened his grip on his backpack. “My parents didn’t make it,” he answered bluntly.

Your head whipped towards him. “I’m so sorry,” you said rushedly. “I don’t know why I even asked you, I overste-”

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, gently turning your head to face the road path ahead of you two. “I was the one who asked first, anyways.”

You looked down again in shame. “Sorry again,” you murmured.  

Jungkook smiled down at you before a small laugh escaped his lips. Your heart picked up it’s pace when he laced his hand with yours and pulled you forward. “Come on, the supplies won’t get themselves.”

You felt an odd sense of deja vu as you ran out of the grocery store, Jungkook following behind you and a horde of hungry zombies behind the both of you.

But let’s back up a few moments to ten minutes prior to this predicament.

You and Jungkook finally reached the grocery store that Jin had been scoping out via hidden camera for the past week. Your eyes were delighted by the sight of shelves lined with a variety of foods and freezers that still had cold air circulating behind the glass doors.

“This is one of the few places that run on solar power, so the electricity still functions in here,” Jungkook explained when he noticed your confusion at how he was able to turn off the lights and the gust of cold air that greeted him as he opened one of the freezer doors to grab an ice cream bar.

“I’m surprised no one’s hit this place up yet,” you said as you took out the list of supplies that Jin gave you before you left.

“Jin’s been watching this place for a while. He thinks no one’s come here because it’s kinda far away.”

You nodded in agreement, thinking back to the long walk you and Jungkook took to get here. You supposed not many people wanted to risk being out in the open for so long and didn’t find the commute worth it.

“Is Jin watching us right now?” you asked Jungkook curiously.

During your short few days at their house, you quickly learned each person’s role. Yoongi, who used to be an engineer, builds all the cameras and weapons. Jin, a former director and computer whiz, monitors the cameras that he and Taehyung set up around the city. Taehyung, a film and dance student, helps Jin set up the cameras in obscure places and trains with Jungkook and Jimin. Jimin, a skilled dancer, often accompanies Jungkook and Taehyung during training and supplies runs. Unfortunately, Jimin sprained his ankle recently and Taehyung injured his arm during training, leaving the supplies-run to Jungkook.

The only person you had yet to meet was Namjoon. According to the others, Namjoon was a former pre-med student and scientist who was on a trip to find something. Of course, they didn’t tell you what that something was. And while you were curious, you also didn’t want to overstep your boundaries and risk being kicked out.

“Probably, he usually watches camped out places to monitor and che-”

You and Jungkook both turned your head at the recognizable low rumble of a car. He was quick to grab your hand and pull you down onto the ground, out of view from the front glass windows. You held your breath at the sound of a car door opening and then the ringing bell as the front door was pulled open a few seconds later.

Jungkook reached towards his large gun, but he halted when he recognized the distinguishable stench that the random person carried in. Your eyes widened when Jungkook began panicking, his fingers fumbling for his walkie talkie.

You heard a heavy thud and the sound of the ringing bell again as the mysterious person exited the store. You waited until the rumbling of the car grew distant before you looked up and cursed loudly.

“Fuck! He dumped a dead body here!” you cried, stomach churning at the sight of the pale corpse.

Jungkook groaned from beside you and rushed towards the front of the store, poking his head out of the door and looking both ways. “Fucking looters!” he cursed as he moved his head back and hit the window.

Steering clear of the dead body, you walked towards Jungkook and craned your head to see what he was looking at. The sight of several zombies, more stumbling out of random buildings and streets to join the crowd, heading straight for the store. “Shit! What are we gonna do! They’re already down the block!”

Jungkook ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Fuck, ok, did you get everything?”

You quickly scanned through the paper list and peered into your open backpack. “Most, but I forgot to get some things,” you answered quickly as you mentally checked off each item you saw.

“Which ones?” Jungkook asked, already zipping up his backpack.

A blush spread across your chest and neck, and you wished that you didn’t have to answer. But judging by Jungkook’s stressed face as the zombies’ groans grew louder, you knew you were in no position to stall. “Er. Feminine hygiene stuff,” you blurted.

Jungkook paled before blushing immediately after. His body movements stuttered momentarily before he nodded and headed towards the back of the store. “Shit, ok. Start running!”

You stared at him in bewilderment. “What? I’m not leaving you behind!”

“Just go!” he shouted.

You felt the alarm in your body grow as your head darted between Jungkook’s frantically moving body and the group of zombies just down the street. Knowing that even Jungkook didn’t stand a chance against all those zombies, you ended up on a decision that you really hoped would end up working out.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you looked down at your large gun and adjusted your grip. In one swift move, you kicked open the door and began shooting the zombies, which were now coming from both directions across the street. Your aim wasn’t the best, but it was good enough to pierce bullets through a good amount of them straight in the neck or chest.

“Jungkook! Hurry up!” you cried as you held down the trigger, praying that Yoongi packed enough bullets in the gun.

Small piles of rotting bodies began forming as deceased zombies collapsed to the ground and the other ones climbed over them to get to you. But the few zombies you managed to kill were easily outweighed by all the live ones still clamoring towards you. A cry of frustration left you as you realized that the noise from the gun and the obscene amount of stress radiating from you and Jungkook were just attracting more zombies in the area.

Jungkook ran up towards you, several boxes of various tampons and pads in hand. “I didn’t know which one you wanted! Let’s go!”

In a normal situation, you would have thanked him for his thoughtfulness, but this wasn’t a normal situation by any means.

You and Jungkook ran out of the store towards the house, both turning back occasionally to shoot any zombie that was getting too close. Your breaths grew uneven from exhaustion, but the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping within you kept you and your weak legs going.

“Don’t get too tired! I’ll shoot, just keep running!” Jungkook instructed you when he noticed you clutching your side in pain.

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine!” you responded. But you spoke too soon as you tripped over a rock not even a minute later. “Shit!” you cursed as you landed on your hands and knees before immediately standing back up and catching up to Jungkook, who had stopped a few feet ahead of you when he noticed that you fell.

He didn’t say anything as he gently turned your hands over and examined them. Cuts, with blood flowing freely from them and tiny rocks stuck in between the open skin, covered the palm of your hand and your fingers. Jungkook’s eyebrows creased in concern as he moved his eyes down your body to your knees, which now had deep, bleeding gashes in them from the rocks that cut through your jeans and broke your skin.

“Jungkook, it’s fine. We have to go.” You moved your hands to your side and pulled him to continue running, cringing at how your blood stained the bottom of his black denim jacket and his hands. He cursed, obviously wanting to say something, but continued alongside you.

Thanks to the unexpected delay, the zombies had gained on you by a good few meters. You winced as you turned around and pressed the trigger of your gun, the spray of bullets taking a few of them down. But your tiny sense of relief didn’t last long as you soon heard an empty click and noticed that nothing was leaving the end of your gun — you were out of bullets.

You cursed and turned forwards again. “How many rounds do you have left?” you asked Jungkook, panting heavily as you continued running next to him.

“Not that many,” he answered, concern evident on his face.

You looked back at the relenting zombies, hot on your tail, and cursed. How were you going to get yourselves out of this one?

The answer to your question was presented to you in the form of a poorly-driven SUV that was heading down the road and straight towards you and Jungkook.

“Thank god!” Jungkook cried as he pulled you to the side and out of the vehicle’s path.

“Thank god?” you repeated in confusion.

The black SUV halted to a stop in front of you and Jungkook, the doors opening automatically.

“Get in!” you heard a new voice shout.

You and Jungkook didn’t waste a second to climb into the car, which quickly sped away once Jungkook slammed the door shut behind him. Neither of you had the chance to breathe as the zombies, which seemed to have grown even faster, jumped for the back of the car.

“How did they get even faster?” Jungkook cried as he pulled your shaking body towards him.

“The fast ones might be mutations, I found more reports on them the other day,” the silver-haired man in the front with glasses answered. You assumed that this was Namjoon, considering his answer and that Jungkook didn’t mention anyone else.

“Mutations?” you cried, jumping when a hand smacked your backseat window. “These fuckers are mutating?”

Namjoon didn’t get a chance to answer as he harshly turned the steering wheel, sending the car swerving and you and Jungkook barrelling to the other side of the car.

“Namjoon you’re so shit at driving!” Jungkook exclaimed as he rubbed the side of his head that clashed with the glass window.

Namjoon scoffed. “Don’t talk to your hyung like that when I just saved your life! And who told you not to put on seat belts?!”

“Yeah, let me just put on a seatbelt while there’s zombies cha-”

You gasped suddenly and pulled yourself up towards the front. Head directly next to Namjoon’s, you reached your bloody hands up towards the steering wheel. “There’s a bunny!” you shouted as you swerved the car out of the way, sending Jungkook to the other side of the car and wincing as your waist collided with the firm side of the passenger seat.

“Y/N, what the fuck!” you heard Jungkook moan.

“We were gonna kill the bunny!” you protested in your defense as you rubbed your side and sat back down next to Jungkook.

“We have other things to worry about!” he yelled.

“God! I’m sorry, you’re right,” you groaned as you leaned back down into the back seat.

“They’re slowing down!” Namjoon suddenly announced, his eyes focused on his windshield mirror. “Look, they’re retreating!”

You and Jungkook both turned around towards the back window. Just as Namjoon said, the zombies stopped chasing you, instead shuffling in place or back the other direction. With the threat of zombies gone, you let out a breath of relief and closed your eyes.

You kept your eyes shut as Jungkook grabbed your hands and gently ran his fingers across the open wounds, his touch sending electricity through your body. Despite the rush from his soft touch, exhaustion still tugged at you and weighed down your eyelids.

With the comforting feeling of Jungkook’s hand wrapped around yours, you drifted into unconsciousness.

Your nap was unfortunately short lived. It took only a few moments to arrive back home, and upon exiting the car, the three of you were immediately greeted by everyone else in the home.

“Y/N!!” Jimin greeted as he walked slowly over to you. Jin closely followed the blond to make sure that he didn’t hurt his ankle.

“Jimin!” you said with an equal amount of excitement, throwing your hands up into a welcoming gesture.

Jimin and Jin gasped as you revealed your bloodied and cut up hands.

“You’re hurt!” Jin sputtered as he rushed towards you. “Your knees too!”

“It’s fine, it only stings a little,” you admitted sheepishly. It wasn’t a complete lie — you didn’t exactly have the time to think about your injuries while running for your life.

Jin shook his head. “Come inside, I’ll treat the cuts a-”

“It’s fine, I can do it,” Jungkook said, suddenly appearing at your side.

The older man raised his eyebrows. “You sure, Kookie? Don’t you want to rest?”

Jungkook shook his head and silently pulled you into the house, leaving you to shrug in confusion at the guys behind you. You followed Jungkook through the first floor, up the stairs, and into his room.

His bedroom was similar to what you expected. The walls were painted a dark grey color and there wasn’t much in the room other than the basic furniture and a few pictures and art frames. You sat down on the plain black sheets as Jungkook walked to his dresser and pulled out a first aid kit.

“Why didn’t you just let Jin treat my cuts?” you asked Jungkook quietly, noticing faint signs of exhaustion in his slow movements.

He hesitated to respond. His hands stilled on the top of the red kit as he slowly responded, “I thought this was the only way I’d be able to speak with you… alone.”

“Why?” you asked, praying that you weren’t blushing as assumptions instantly formed in your mind.

He cleared his throat and opened the kit, instantly reaching for several bandaids, disinfectant pads, and antibacterial wound ointment. “Well,” he started as he gently grabbed your hands and turned them so your palms were facing up. He opened the pack of disinfectant pads and swiped them across your hands and knees. “I wanted to ask you why you’ve been avoiding me the past few days.”

Your heart dropped. You didn’t realize that Jungkook noticed how you tried your best to steer clear of him; but it wasn’t like you could really tell him that it was because you were starting to have feelings for him,

“Was it something I said? I did?” he asked as he spread the cold ointment on the open wounds.

“No,” you answered quickly — a little too quickly judging by the way his head darted up to meet your eyes. You blushed under his stare and continued, “You didn’t do anything to offend me, Jungkook.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” His voice was uncharacteristically soft, almost pleading.

You groaned inwardly and wished you could cover your face with your hands, but Jungkook held them firmly in his as he bandaged them. A few seconds of dragged-on silence passed before you looked down at your lap and responded vaguely. “I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

His hands stopped and his brows furrowed in confusion. “Why would things be awkward between us?”

Blood rushed to your face as you looked up to make painful eye contact with him. “Do you really want to know?” you whined, already anticipating Jungkook’s answer since you’d become quite familiar with his stubbornness over the past few days.

“Yes,” he started. “Please tell me,” he said, feigning an expression of a wounded puppy.

You cursed under your breath and brought your freshly bandaged hands (you ignored that one of the bandages was only half on, courtesy of Jungkook’s prior confusion) up to your face.

“Do you promise not to make fun of me? Or kick me out?”

He laughed, although the soft sound didn’t match the nervousness in his expression. “Yes, I promise.”

His words prompted you to breathe in deeply, mentally preparing yourself for your confession. You can do this, you said to yourself. If you could shoot and run from at least thirty zombies, then you could definitely tell Jungkook you had feelings for him. Right?

It wasn’t like you could keep on avoiding him forever, anyways. With the rate that the apocalypse was going and based off the past few days, it looked like you were going to be at this house a while. You just hoped that your reveal wouldn’t make your stay awkward for either him or you.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Y/N?”

You hummed, still stuck in your thoughts before finally responding. “I… I may or may not be incredibly attracted to you and have feelings for you,” you admitted reluctantly. Jungkook’s lips parted in shock, but he didn’t get a chance to respond before you continued in a panic. “You already promised you wouldn’t make fun of me or kick me out! No take backs!”

He laughed, and you cringed as you were sure it was a laugh of rejection and that the dulcet notes would be a new cause of your nightmares. But the words he said after proved the opposite.

“That’s a relief.” You looked up, a bewildered look on your face. “I like you too,” he mumbled bashfully, his long hair falling in front of his face as he looked down at his lap.

Your body froze. “D-Did I hear that right? Have I not gone crazy?”

He looked back up at you with a grin. “Crazy for me,” he joked with a wink.

Unimpressed, your face dropped. “I take it all back, I’ll go pack my-”

Jungkook shook his head with a chuckle. “Kidding, kidding,” he said, enveloping his slender hands around yours. “But I was completely serious about liking you back.”

“Really?” you asked, still in slight disbelief that Jungkook, who could literally have his portrait and biography in a hall of all Earthly legends, had feelings for you.

“Yes, really.”

You opened your mouth, ready to shoot a doubtful reply, but Jungkook cut you off with the lift of his hand. He rested his hand back down around yours before continuing, “I know you’re probably going to say something self-deprecating or a joke or ask me if i’m joking again, so you might as well let me speak first.”

He grinned at the way your face heated, priding himself on how well he knew you already.

“The way you wish each of us goodnight every night, the way you wake up early to help Jin prepare breakfast, the way you cuss whenever you’re nervous, the way you always try to keep up with whatever stuff we’re doing - even when it’s stupid - and keep a smile on your face; everything about you made me fall for you. Even before the apocalypse, I never felt this way for anyone else.” He took a deep breath, gently squeezing your hands. “The night I first brought you here, it felt like seeing you enter that store and meeting you was fate. You make questionable decisions, we both saw that today, but I’m glad that one of them brought us together because I honestly don’t think I can ever meet anyone else like you.”

A wide smile spread across your face and tears pricked your eyes. Never in your many years of life had anyone told you such genuine, heartfelt words. And no one noticed (or appreciated) those small things about you - your habits that were always brushed over - like Jungkook did.

You agreed with his claim of you making questionable (stupid) decisions, but in this moment you were thankful for your sometimes-dangerous spontaneity and rash decision making. Because if it weren’t for that sudden moment of desperation where you ran into the grocery store, you never would have met Jungkook. Your heart wouldn’t be racing like it was right now and your hands wouldn’t be warm from the feeling of his wrapped around them.

“What do you say?” he asked weakly, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“What is there to say?” you countered before you released your hands from his and interlocked your fingers around his lower body. The position was a bit awkward, but you didn’t mind. Less than a few seconds later, your lips were pressed against his.

Jungkook moved his hands from the small of your back to your neck up to your hair. He pulled you in closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You gasped and tightened your grip around him as he effortlessly lifted you up so you were sitting on his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist. He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip and gently bit it, drawing a moan from you.

You shifted in his lap, pulling a deep groan from him as he pulled away from your lips to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt him suck on your collarbone and upper chest to leave marks for him to see the next day. Just as Jungkook slipped his cool hands under your shirt, a startling voice rang from the other side of the door.

“Jungkook!”

The long-haired boy beneath you groaned in annoyance but continued to kiss you. “Just ignore him, he’ll go away,” Jungkook mumbled against your lips as he dragged his hands against the skin of your stomach.

You nodded, embracing the fiery feeling of his kisses and his hands against your bare skin.

“Jungkook!” the voice cried again, causing Jungkook to curse and groan again. “It’s urgent!”

“This better be good,” Jungkook grumbled as he reluctantly pulled away from you.

You frowned at the loss of his touch, but you didn’t have much time to mourn it as he instantly straightened his back once Namjoon said, “It’s about Project B.”

Your brows raised at Jungkook’s sudden reaction to whatever this “Project B” was. He turned to you with an apologetic look before gently setting you onto the bed and moving towards the door.

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly as he straightened his shirt. “I’ll talk to you tonight, I promise.” With that, he was out the door, leaving you in his room with only your thoughts (and hands and knees that had yet to be fully bandaged).

It had been nearly 8 hours since Jungkook had promised that he would speak to you at night. By now, the moon was high in the sky, it’s radiant glow doing nothing to calm your nerves. You knew that whatever Jungkook and Namjoon had to discuss was urgent, but how could he just leave you like that? You were barely able to process the best kiss of your life by the time you realized that you were still sitting stupidly on his bed after he left the room.

You sighed and moved from the window seat in the living room to the kitchen. Joining Jin at the counter, you plopped your head against the stone material with a groan.

“Jungkook and Joon are still in their little lab?” he guessed, nonchalantly flipping his book to the next page.

You nodded pitifully, now knowing that the mysterious room was a lab of some sorts.

“Here,” Jin said before standing suddenly, prompting you to look up at him. He grabbed a bowl of washed fruits from beside the sink and gestured for you to take it. “Bring it up to them.”

“But Jungkook said I ca-”

“I don’t care what he said. Tell him that they shouldn’t have skipped dinner,” Jin instructed firmly.

You nodded, a bit intimidated by Jin’s sudden sternness, and quickly took the bowl with you up the stairs. You slowly approached the door at the end of the hall, the ceramic bowl filled with strawberries and peeled clementines wobbling in your shaky hands. As you took each step, you imagined Jungkook bursting through the door and expressing his disappointment in you for even thinking about entering the room.

Luckily, that didn’t come and you reached the door in less than a minute.

Clearing your throat, you knocked against the door with your elbow. “Jungkook?” you called.

No response.

“Jungkook? Namjoon?” you called again, only to be met with what sounded like a low groan.

Your breath hitched in your throat. That noise didn’t sound pleasant at all.

You placed a weary hand on the door knob but quickly pulled it away as if it was burning hot. Debating thoughts battled in your hand: Jungkook clearly told you not to go in the room but what if Jungkook or Namjoon was in trouble? Wouldn’t leaving despite knowing that one of them could be hurt make you a terrible person (or girlfriend—you didn’t really know what you and Jungkook were yet)?

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the silver doorknob and twisted it open. You stepped into the dimly lit room slowly, gasping at the sight before you.

“Lab” was definitely the right word to describe the room that almost mirrored your high school chemistry class. Seven tables sat in the room, four of which were filled with stacks of papers and folders while the other three had various lab equipment tools atop the black tabletops. It didn’t just end at the tables either.

“What is all this?” you mumbled to yourself as you examined the crowded walls. There was barely an inch of blank wall left as papers, newspaper clippings, photos (some rather disturbing), and notes decorated the wall like a second wallpaper.

You slowly walked through the room, examining the items pinned to the walls. Most of it was related to the zombie apocalypse, with newspapers (from when those were still around) detailing the first outbreaks and theories of the cause and papers filled with concepts you barely remembered from chemistry, physiology, and biology. Accompanying the scientific notes and articles were several pictures, some of zombies and others of medical abnormalities that you couldn’t quite explain.

One picture caught your eye, and you barely managed to place the fruit bowl down on a table with just enough space for it before you rushed over to the photo. The aged photo had three people, presumably a family, in it. A mother and father stood proudly behind their son, their hands on his shoulders as he beamed at the camera with his hands on his lap. The boy looked familiar. His round eyes and bunny-like smile eerily reminded you of -

“What are you doing?”

The unexpected voice sent a shiver down your body, and you jumped as you turned around to face him.

Jungkook.

You mentally hit yourself — you were so distracted by the items of the room that you failed to notice Jungkook waking up at his spot with Namjoon, slouched over and faces pressed onto one of the paper-filled tables.

“Um,” you started, unable to find the right words as you stared at his unreadable facial expression. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, disappointed, sad, scared, or possibly even all four.

He let out a frustrated groan and ran his tattooed hand through his long hair. “Just tell me what you saw,” he instructed firmly.

“N-not much!” you stuttered, your eyes wide. “I — Jin fruit! Yes! I just came here to bring you Jin — I mean fruit! I came to bring you fruit! Like Jin told me to!” Heat spread across your face as you attempted to explain yourself.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed between you and the ceramic fruit bowl you pointed to, and he would’ve laughed at your clear disarray if he didn’t feel so anxious.

“You were looking at the walls, you must have seen something,” he deduced.

Your body stuttered as you gestured towards the photo you were looking at. “Nope! Just some things about zombies and… and this picture of you — fun stuff!”

He sighed and you cringed as he placed his hands on your shoulders. But he didn’t scold you or tell you how disappointed he was like you expected; instead, he let his head fall and mumbled something that you weren’t sure if it was meant towards you or himself.

“I guess it’s time I told you the truth.”

Your brows furrowed at his words. The truth? Judging by the contents of the room, they were studying the zombies; and it wasn’t all that surprising considering that Namjoon was technically a scientist and almost-doctor. Why was Jungkook so afraid to tell you?

He lifted his head up, and your heart clenched at the look of pure vulnerability on his face. “Will you promise me that you won’t judge me or run away?” he whispered.

You nodded. “Of course.”

“My parents were scientists who worked for the national lab. I didn’t really know what happened at their work or what projects they were doing because I was in university doing my own stuff,” he paused and briefly closed his eyes to take in a deep breath, “but one day I went home and they told me about an idea they had that was so great.

Super humans, they said. Humans with enhanced senses that would make them superior to regular humans and form the perfect army. I told them it was a shitty idea and that this was stuff they shouldn’t mess with, but they got upset and kicked me out.” He laughed bitterly. “This wasn’t the first time my parents and I ever disagreed on anything, and I thought they were smart enough to not go through with it so I just left. But I guess I was wrong because one day something at the lab went wrong.”

Jungkook hesitated for a second upon seeing the disturbed expression on your face — you knew exactly where this was heading.

He willed himself to continue. “A few months later I got a call from the hospital. They told me that my parents were severely injured while at work, and when I went to see them, they told me the truth of what happened: how they went through with the project but realized too late that it was a mistake, how they were trapped by the government, and how they created monsters.

My parents died from their injuries two days later, and a week after that there was a covered-up breakout at the lab they worked in. Only one day after the breakout, there was the first outbreak in the city only a few miles away. And now we’re here, trying to find a cure for the mess my parents started.”

“I’m sorry,” you immediately said, a mournful expression on your face. You couldn’t imagine the guilt and sorrow that Jungkook must feel.

He scoffed. “Sorry? Why are you apologizing? This entire thing is my fault,” he muttered.

Your face fell and you moved to grasp his hands. “Jungkook, I don’t see how any of this is your fault,” you spoke honestly, your voice soft.

His eyes widened and he pulled his hands away from you. “Y/N, my parents are the reason this apocalypse happened! And - and they told me about their idea and I didn’t do anything to stop it!”

“You did what you could,” you stressed. “You told them it was a bad idea and they made their own adult decision to go through with it.” You took a step closer to him and looked at him in the eyes. “You can’t blame yourself for your parents’ actions.”

He shook his head and looked away. “I should’ve fought harder,” he countered stubbornly. “I’m a terrible person.”

“Jeon Jungkook, look at me.” You used your finger to turn his head so his gaze was directed towards you again. “You are not a terrible person. If you were, you wouldn’t have saved me that day at the grocery store or risked your life to get me pads or spending your days working to find a cure that isn’t even your responsibility.” You took another step towards him and slowly wrapped your arms around him. “You’re a good person, Jungkook. I’m saying this from the bottom of my heart,” you murmured with your head against his chest.

He was silent for a few moments until his body relaxed into your hold. “Thank you,” he mumbled as he gripped your waist and upper back and rested his head atop of yours. “Do you still feel… the same for me?” he questioned cautiously.

“No,” you answered quickly, causing him to quickly pull away from you in offense. You giggled at his reaction before continuing, “I like you even more now. You were honest with me and now I feel closer to you.”

His face relaxed as he let out a relieved sigh before bringing you back into his arms again. And for a few moments, the two of you simply basked in each others’ embrace.

Jungkook was the first to break the silence. “We’re not very close to finding the solution, you know,” he mentioned with a disappointed tone.

You shrugged. “It’s ok. This isn’t something you can really rush, but I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

He pulled his head back to look down at you, a gentle expression painted on his face. “Promise?”

You smiled at him. “I promise,” you whispered before you moved to close the distance between your lips and kiss him once again.

The future was unsure for you and Jungkook and tomorrow or the next week wasn’t guaranteed. But you were sure that if there was anyone you wanted to survive and overcome a zombie apocalypse with, it was Jungkook (and his unconventional group of friends that he calls his family).

a/n: ngl i would feel so safe in a zombie apocalypse w bts akjnkas. also might write a drabble about hobi in this plot hehe. i hope you enjoyed and pls leave comments as they’re rlly encouraging and will  help me improve in the future :’))

[bestiesenpai]

youtuber Sukuna

I beg you to read the shitposts I made about this, they are delicious. You don’t have to of course but...if you loved me you would :) s/n = screen name, and I hope you chuckle at Sukunas screen name

Content warning: uhmhm lowkey incel shit(mean internet comments and whatnot)

part two --- part 3

Name: Sukuna. Age: 25. Height: 6 foot 5 inches. Occupation: toxic Youtuber, fitness trainer and hot guy.

Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for being kind. He wasn’t nice to others, rarely having anything good to say about anyone, and he’d made a successful Youtube career out of it. First starting as a fitness trainer at his gym, through encouragement from his clients and the notion of a quick cash grab, he started Youtube.

He didn’t care about it and that reflected in the quality of his videos and editing. He didn’t have consistent uploads, just filming and posting videos whenever he wanted, analytics be fucked. But somehow, that worked out for him, and he quickly found himself with over two million subscribers just frothing at the mouth for his next video.

And those subscribers were some of the worst people. Sukuna didn’t care about fostering a safe space online for others, not in the slightest. His comment sections were atrocious, both on his Youtube and his Instagram. It was full of toxic men one-upping each other constantly and dragging on each other for not being able to work out as much as Sukuna did.

Sukuna was a large part of why his fanbase were so toxic. He himself often made bad comments about others, whether fellow creators or people that happened to appear in the backgrounds of his videos, and on more than one occasion he’d been ‘cancelled’. None of that mattered though, all he cared about was shitting on other people and making money.

Sometimes he played video games and posted it, but not too often. Sukuna often stated he wasn’t so much of a fucking lonely loser that he’d play video games all the time, and so the gaming videos he did post were few and far between. He played angry shooter games and GTA, mindless button clicking he could get lost in for a few hours for a video.

Laying in bed one night after uploading his most recent video, one where he rages at 12 year olds on GTA online, Sukuna was just scrolling through his phone mindlessly. After he uploads video game content, like clockwork, he gets recommendations for gaming channels. He only watches a few of them, mostly leaving mean comments saying what losers they are, but one catches his eye.

He’s never been recommended this kind of video before. The thumbnail is light and bright with some pink aesthetic lights in the back. But the most enticing thing is the person in the middle, cute pink cat ear headphones on and a bright smile.

“Let’s see…” Sukuna mumbles to himself, mindlessly clicking the video. He hasn’t even read the title, he only clicked it because they were cute, and here he is nearly blinded by the bright setup they have.

“Hi everyone, it’s (Y/N) here and I’m really excited today! We’re going to be playing this new game I found!” Sukuna is immediately enraptured by the sound of your voice, watching how your face changes as you talk. His eyes drift off to the decor behind you, cute plushies and healthy plants, and some twinkling fairy lights. There’s books as well, and your chair is one of those ergonomic gamer chairs he has as well but in pink.

Sukuna watches the video dumbly, totally in the dark about whatever you’re doing, but loving it all the same. All he knows is that he likes the sound of your voice, and when you laugh and smile at a funny part in the game, it makes a light flush come to his cheeks.

It only takes one video for Sukuna to spiral into more of your content. He watches a video on your gaming setup, and he’s surprised that so much technology can come in pink. He watches a video on how you edit, a few of you cooking in your kitchen, and even a few vlog videos.

He quickly subscribes to your channel, and when you plug your social media, he immediately goes there. Pulling up your Instagram, he stares at your profile picture and almost audibly coos at you for being cute.

Your profile is just as cute as your videos are and Sukuna barely remembers to follow you before he’s going through your whole feed, liking every picture he sees. Sometimes he leaves comments, only one word though, ‘cute’. He’s never liked something so outright cute before, it wasn’t who he was and it definitely didn’t fit with his brand.

Falling asleep after following you on every platform, Sukuna wakes up thinking about you as well. And he also wakes up to hundreds of comments from all his accounts, bombarding him with questions and screenshots from last night.

‘SUKUNA WHY WOULD YOU LIKE THIS SHIT?!’

‘OMG Sukuna liked (Y/N)s posts!!’

‘Sukuna is so gross and toxic, you better stay away from (Y/N)!’

‘SUKUNA YOU GAY NOW’

‘EW why the fuck do you like this bitch?’

There were hundreds of comments that he waded through. Most were from his fans, expressing disgust at how many photos of yours he’d liked and wondering why he, Sukuna, most heterosexual alpha male on the planet, would like a pretty in pink Youtuber who had bubbly intros and whined when their animal crossing villagers wanted to move away.

Other comments were from your fans, some in awe that he would like you considering how much he said he hated overly cute things. Other fans expressed concern, worried what this might mean for their favorite Youtuber. Did Sukuna want to cause problems, potentially hurting you? He did have a reputation of bullying others, so this wasn’t far fetched.

Checking your Instagram, you didn’t make any comment about it. There wasn’t any update or anything, but on his end he was being tagged in endless Twitter threads with screenshots of him liking your posts and commenting under them.

“For fucks sake.” He grunted, clenching his phone in his hands. The amount of notifications he was getting were starting to upset him and he nearly threw his phone to get them to stop.

Ignoring his phone for the rest of the day, Sukuna went to the gym like he always did and trained with his clients. Some of them brought it up to him, asking him if he had a mind break last night and forgot what he was doing. Sending them harsh glares, Sukuna refused to talk about it.

“Oh my fucking god.” Sukuna nearly wailed when he got home, finally checking his phone. His name and yours had begun trending, and the hashtag #protect(Y/N) was also. Muttering angrily under his breath, Sukuna turned on Instagram live.

“Okay what the fuck!” He shouted, seeing the live become instantly flooded with people all screaming about you and him. “You’re all fucking annoying, you know that?” Glaring harshly at the camera, he read some of the comments that went by.

‘WHY’D YOU LIKE (Y/N)S POSTS FROM 2017’

‘Are you two secretly dating??’

‘COLLAB!’

“Who gives a shit why I liked their stuff, you’re a fucking weirdo for keeping track of me. And we aren’t secretly dating, dipshits.” Rolling his eyes, Sukuna scoffed as more comments came in begging for a collaboration. “And think about it you morons, why would we collab? Our shit is too fucking different, what would we even film about?”

Sukuna stayed on Instagram live for nearly an hour answering questions asking about you. Every time he had to answer that you weren’t secretly dating, he got a little more annoyed. Not at the comments themselves but at the fact that it was true; you didn’t even know he existed.

Ending the live in a huff, Sukuna didn’t feel any better than before, and it was made even worse by the fact that everything he said was being relayed to Twitter, and you were tagged in every tweet.

“These idiots!” Staring at his phone, Sukuna couldn’t believe what he was seeing. On your Instagram stories, you’d posted a q&a for your followers, and nearly all of the comments were about Sukuna.

“Hi everyone! No, me and Sukuna aren’t dating!” You said, laughing a little to ease how uncomfortable you were. “To be honest, I’ve never even heard of him before! As you know, my content is very...different from his, so our circles don’t exactly intersect. But I’m always happy to have new followers and potential friends!”

“Fuck me.” Sukuna groaned, cringing at how uncomfortable you looked having to address the sudden onslaught of questions. For once he wished he’d actually given a shit about his online presence, so that maybe one day your circles could intersect. He knew he scared you, he scared a lot of people, and this was just proof.

“Uh, Sukuna if you see this, hi it’s nice to meet you!” You said in the next slide, puffing out your cheeks and waving cutely at the camera. It made Sukuna blush, and he hated it. “Thank you for following me and liking my content! I was very surprised that you found me!”

“Of course I did, idiot, you’re fucking cute.” He muttered under his breath.

“I know a lot of people are asking for us to do a video together and I know our content is really different, so don’t feel pressured to respond or anything, but the offer is open! If you’d like, we can collab on something.”

“On what?” He asked like you were there.

“I cook sometimes, and I know you cook too! Maybe we can make a cooking video? You can teach me how to make healthy food or something!” Sukuna could tell a fake laugh when he heard one, and you definitely had one right now. “Anyways, thank you! Bye Sukuna!” But hearing you say his name cutely like that made him not care.

He nearly responded right away, accepting the collab offer now that you’d spoken about it, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. He watched through the rest of your Instagram stories, going back and replaying the parts where you talked about him over and over and his heart clenched every time when you said his name.

In the dead of night, Sukuna DM’s you after watching your latest video and leaving the simple comment ‘check your DM’s’.

“Fuck, what should I say?” He’s suddenly stumped as he looks at the keyboard. Typing and retyping a message, in the end all he can say is hi. He doesn’t expect a reply, ever, but when he gets a vibration on his phone two seconds later he jumps to read it.

(S/N): hi Sukuna! :)

(cursedgod): hey

Real fucking smart, repeating what he just said.

(S/N): is there something you wanted to talk to me about?

(S/N): I hope you haven’t been annoyed at all the notifications you’ve been getting!

(cursedgod): No it’s okay

(cursedgod): we can collab if you want

Good Sukuna, good. Play it cool, don’t let them know that your fingers are actually trembling because you’re nervous.

(S/N): do you want to?? I don’t want to pressure you! I know we’re pretty different haha

(cursedgod): yeah, let's do it. Cooking?

(S/N): sure!

Looking around his home, he was suddenly assaulted with the fact that he didn’t have any furniture. He barely had a proper bedroom, just a mattress on a bare frame and a dresser. His lounge room was the same with his computer setup in one corner and then nothing else. There was only a couch, a mounted TV and a fold out table and chairs for his dining room.

(cursedgod): I know a studio kitchen we can use, I’ll send you the address

Thank god he’d done promo work for a brand in a studio one day, otherwise he’d be fucked.

(S/N): awesome! I’m free next Saturday!

And just like that, it was a date. Well, a meeting. Sukuna knew it wasn’t a date, but his heart still thumped like it was one. Confirming the time, he ended the conversation with a curt goodbye and obsessed about it throughout the night.

When the day to meet you came, Sukuna nearly ran late trying to pick out his clothes. He’d never cared about looking good or presenting himself well in front of others, whatever version of him he turned up in was what they got. But for you, he wanted to try a little harder.

Waiting outside the studio space, Sukuna rubbed his hands together nervously. You’d messaged a day or two ago offering to put the video on your channel since it probably wouldn’t fit his aesthetic, so he didn’t have to bring his shitty camera equipment.

“S-sukuna?” Snapping his head up, Sukunas mouth fell open looking at your curious face a few feet away, an Uber driving off behind you. You were even cuter in person, just his fucking luck. How was he expected to act like a normal person when his recent obsession was here looking better than he could have imagined.

“Hi.” What comes out is a grunt, not the smooth word he’d hoped. He can see you eyeing him up, taking in all the thick and corded muscles of his body. It made his chest puff out a little, he worked hard for this physique and to have you so openly looking at him made him happy.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Sticking your hand out, you smiled politely at him.

“Same.” Shaking your hand with a firm grip, Sukuna could feel the difference in your palms. Yours was soft and nicely moisturized and he had callouses everywhere and a few cuts and scrapes.

Opening the door for you, Sukuna led you to the studio space he’d rented out. It was a clean and modern kitchen, not unlike his own, but it had appliances and looked actually lived in. Helping you set up a few camera angles, Sukuna felt a pang of nerves hit him in the stomach.

“Sukuna, can we take a picture together?” You asked before starting, and Sukunas brow furrowed deeply. Why would you want to take a picture with him? His expression must have scared you, because you quickly backtracked. “F-for promo for this video, on Instagram and stuff!”

“Sure.” God, did he feel bad or what. He shouldn’t have made that face at you, now you wouldn’t look him in the eye. Crouching down to get the right angle for you, Sukuna watched you pick a cute animal filter.

“Just do what I do.” Throwing up a peace sign, you cutely tilted your head from side to side and smiled. Sukuna tried to do the same but he looked awkward, and most of all he was blushing pretty bad.

You snapped a multitude of pictures, some at different angles and some with different filters, and in all of them Sukuna was blushing at least a little. He managed to smile more as it went on, even laughing at one of the filters.

“Thanks! I’m going to post these really quick and then we can get started!” Giving him a brief smile, you turned back to your phone and set about editing some of the pictures. Looking over your shoulder, Sukuna could see that he looked like a blushing high schooler meeting their idol for the first time and not a grown man.

Once the photos were posted and you tagged him in everything, it was time to start. Setting up your marks on the floor, you took a generous drink of water and cleared your throat.

“Are you ready for the intro? I’ll start it and introduce you, okay?” You’d actually prepared a script for yourself, and showed Sukuna as well.

“Okay.” Stepping in front of the camera, Sukuna bristled at feeling you so close to him. Your arm brushed his casually as you were fixing your shirt, and Sukuna was glad he’d worn his most expensive cologne for this.

“Hi everyone, welcome to today's video! As you know, I’m (Y/N), and today we have a special guest today!” Throwing your arms in the air, you motioned to Sukuna.

“Hi.” He nodded, barely cracking a smile. He could feel you looking at him like you wanted to say something, but he didn’t look.

“So, many people have been asking for us to do a collaboration and it’s finally here!” Clapping your hands lightly, you rocked on your heels and nudged his shoulder with yours. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?”

“Uh-” The playful nudge you’d given him was enough to make Sukuna short circuit. “I-I-” He suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak. “Rice?”

“Let’s try that again.” You laughed. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” This time, you didn’t nudge him with your shoulder.

“We’re gonna…” the words were on the tip of his tongue, they wanted to come out and be spoken but he couldn’t do it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Nodding reassuringly, you took a deep breath in and out, and Sukuna shakily copied. “One more try?” When he looked at you, Sukuna expected to see a hint of annoyance in your face, but there was none. You were just smiling softly at him, waiting for his answer.

“Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll get it next time.” Stepping away from the camera, Sukuna took a drink of water and cleared his throat. Cracking the bones in his neck, he took a deep breath and came back. “Let’s do it.” No more fucking embarrassments.

“Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” You asked for the third time, slightly swaying your body side to side this time.

“We’re gonna make katsudon today.” Finally, the words he wanted to say came out.

“That’s right! As you can see, Sukuna is really fit!” You immediately hopped in, giving his arm a brief squeeze. “And he knows how to make a ton of healthy meals!”

“Mhmm.”

“So I asked if he could help teach me, and all of you at home, how to make it!” Smiling at the camera, you waited a few seconds before relaxing and turning it off. “Did you like that? We can refilm it if you want.”

“No, it’s okay.” Running a hand through his hair, he pointed to the bag of rice he’d brought. “Let’s get started on this shit.”

Taking fifteen minutes to film the two of you filling up the rice cooker, when it was over, you set about getting aesthetic shots of the other ingredients. Sukuna tried to seem casual off to the side on his phone, but he was really watching you.

Getting started on chopping the ingredients, Sukuna somehow managed to say the things he was supposed to without stuttering too badly. He was amazed that you could make the things he was doing sound so interesting, your narration as you held the camera and tried to do things yourself was impressive to the man that barely knew anything about cameras.

“Sukuna, I need help cutting the meat.” You whined, tapping the meat on the cutting board with a knife. “I don’t remember how you showed me.”

“Here.” Without thinking, Sukuan grabbed your hand with the knife in it and moved it for you. “You just have to move your wrist more, it’s not that hard.” Doing it a few times, when Sukuna felt your chest expand with air against his, that’s when he realized how close the two of you were. “S-sorry.” Immediately jumping back, he stared at the floor.

“Thanks!” Giving him a smile, you kept at it.

“I’ll fry the meat.” Stepping in as soon as you were done, Sukuna already had the hot oil ready. He was eager to cook and do something with his hands instead of - what he felt like - was awkwardly watching you off to the side.

“Okay!” Grabbing the camera, you focused on the pan. “You’re really good at this, Sukuna!”

“T-thanks.” Staring directly at the pan, Sukuna didn’t look away. Even with the hot oil popping up from the pan a few times and burning his fingers, he didn’t flinch at all.

“Ow!” But you did. Your hand had gotten too close, and when Sukuna flipped the meat, some of the oil had gotten on your hand.

“Shit.” Abandoning the pan, Sukuna was ready to drag you over to the sink for some cool water.

“I-it’s okay, it was only a little.” Shaking your stinging hand, you point to the food. “But I think the meat might burn.”

“Shit!”

Narrowly avoiding disaster with the meat, when it came time to cook the eggs, you made a joke about how you liked your eggs in the morning and Sukuna burnt them almost immediately. While not an overtly sexual comment, the implications of the words still affected him.

Somehow, he managed to make the dish come together and while his plated dish didn’t come out the best, yours looked at least halfway decent with overcooked meat and burnt eggs. The only things not messed up were the rice and vegetables, and even then Sukuna was surprised.

“We did it everyone, we made katsudon!” Holding up the bowls, you smiled big and nudged Sukunas shoulder again. “You saw we had a few mishaps along the way, but that’s okay, that’s what made it fun.”

“Yeah, it was fun.” Sukuna chuckled. Despite him being more nervous than he’d ever thought possible, he had fun cooking alongside you.

“Sukuna, will you try mine? I made it super pretty and everything.” Holding your dish up to him, Sukuna wasn’t expecting you to do that. Now he felt bad that his looked so ugly and like a teenaged boy made it; he almost said no.

Eating yours though, somehow it tasted better than he was expecting. It must have been how you prepared it, and the fact that you cared so much about the presentation. Eating it in silence, he let you eat in peace as well for a few minutes and compliment the food to the camera.

“Alright, that’s the end of the video!” Putting your bowl down, you turned to Sukuna. “I had so much fun today, thanks for filming this with me.” Now was his chance to make everything better. Putting his bowl down and bolstering himself with confidence, Sukuna threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you close to him.

“Thank you (Y/N), I really did enjoy today. I hope we can film again soon!” He squeezed your shoulder and smiled really big at not only you but the camera as well. He knew he was blushing, he knew that even the tip of his nose was a nice rosy shade, but he didn’t care. If people teased him for it, then so be it. But he wanted you to know how he truly felt.

“R-really? You want to?” You asked, looking up at Sukuna from your place smooshed against his body.

“Really.”

“Aww, well you heard it here first everyone! Sukuna wants to shoot another video with me!” Clapping your hands a few times, you waved at the camera. “Okay, bye everyone!”

“Bye.” Sukuna waved too, waiting a few seconds before letting you go and turning off the camera.

“Sukuna, did you really mean it? You want to film another video with me?” You were in utter disbelief. All this time, he’d just seemed very standoffish, if not a little awkward around you. You were happy to film this video with him, he had way more followers than you and it would help boost both your channels, and to hear him say that just made it even better.

“Yeah, I was serious.” Sukuna spoke around stuffing his mouth with the food he still had left. He was more hungry than he thought, the nerves doing a good job of twisting his stomach during the video. Now that it’s over, he can finally relax.

“That makes me really happy.” Eating the rest of your food as well, you leant against the counter. “This is gonna sound kind of mean, but I was really scared to film with you today. I thought you were going to be really mean.”

“Shit, you did?” He grimaced, letting out a sigh. “Sorry I had you worried.” He could already imagine the comments you would get from his fans.

“It’s okay! You’re actually way nicer in person, I was surprised!”

“That’s good.”

“And you’re really buff, you have muscles in places I didn’t even know were possible!” You laughed bashfully at that comment, and avoided looking at him when he stared at you in shock. “I couldn’t help but notice…”

Were you checking him out? Had you been checking him out this whole time and he didn’t even realize? He had seen you eyeing him up when you first met, but were you looking at him like that at other times as well? Now he’d really have to watch your video to see if it was true.

“Thanks, it’s my job.” Could he have said that any lamer? “My job outside of all this, I mean. I’m a trainer at this fancy gym downtown.”

“Oh, I’ve seen some of your videos at your gym! I know which one you’re talking about.”

“You do? You’ve seen my videos?” If he wasn’t surprised before, he was now.

“Yeah, you know I had to do a little research beforehand.” You nodded, beginning to clean up the dishes around you. “And I know you’ve already watched almost all of my videos, so it only seemed fair.”

Did you have to bring that up? Now Sukuna was embarrassed again.

“Y-yeah, I did.” Clearing his throat, Sukuna helped gather the dishes. He took up washing them, another task he could do to get his mind off you. As you took down the camera equipment, he nearly broke several dishes and utensils from scrubbing too hard.

“I’ll call you an Uber.” He said when all was said and done and you were back at the front of the building.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“No, I want to.” Quickly calling you a ride, Sukuna fiddled with his phone a little more. “Uh, could I- could I-” His voice kept leaving him, and he had to cough a few times. “Can I get your number? I really liked your camera shit and I want to improve mine.” Okay, it wasn’t a total lie. He did like your setup and wanted to make his just as good, but he really wanted your number to potentially talk to you more about things outside of Youtube.

“Sure! Go ahead and type it in.” You were quick to give him your phone, a cute pink phone case on the back of it. Typing it in, he can’t help but notice the little devil emoji you add by his name. He wants to ask, but your ride is already pulling up.

“Bye!” Setting all your camera gear inside the car, you turn and wave goodbye.

“See ya.” Just as you’re about to close the car door, Sukuna gets a burst of confidence. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay!” And off you go. Sukuna watches the car drive off until he can’t see it anymore. He takes his time getting to his own place, eagerly awaiting your message with every step. But even when you do message him, all he can do is send a thumbs up back and nothing else.

It’s about two and a half days after that that you text him again, letting him know you’re done editing and that you’re going to post the video soon. It wasn’t a very long video to begin with, so the editing was simple enough. Sukuna replied with what appeared to be a lackluster ‘can’t wait’, but on the inside he was shaking. He’d already screenshot all the pictures the two of you took together and added them to a folder.

“Here we go.” As soon as the video went live, Sukuna watched it. He was mortified as soon as it started at the blush so evident on his cheeks, and how it stayed throughout the whole thing. He groaned at the part where he helped you cut up the meat, he almost wishes you’d cut it out. Every little detail that made him embarrassed was there, every little nuance of his actions you’d managed to capture and make it cute.

(Y/N): How do you like it??

You texted him after twenty minutes, eager to hear his thoughts.

(Sukuna): it’s good, good editing and stuff

(Y/N): yay! I’m going to read comments in a few hours, you should too! I bet people will be really shocked!

(Sukuna): yeah no doubt

Oh, he was definitely going to read the comments. Whereas you were going to wait for a fair few to come in before commenting, Sukuna frequently refreshed the page and read the new ones as they came in. You were right, a lot of people were surprised, but he also saw a lot of his fans as well.

‘Ew Sukuna really cooked for that bitch? They can’t do it themselves?’

‘Yeah, why do they have to rely on him? Useless as fuck lol’

‘Sukuna only did this to get laid, (Y/N) looks like an easy fuck’

All of those comments, and many more, made his blood boil. Usually, he wouldn’t care at all about the comments, letting them fester in his comment section and spiral out of control. But for you, it was different.

‘Fuck off and die you pieces of shit. Leave (Y/N) alone or say it to my fucking face’

Sukuna sent that message, along with a variety of other threats, to all the people that insulted you. He didn’t care that this wasn’t his channel and that you would deal with it in whatever way you wanted to. He needed to defend you against the unwanted audience he’d brought you.

Luckily, after seeing Sukunas messages, all of his fans backed off. They knew how serious he was about his threats and there were many rumors that he actually did go and beat people up who said things he didn’t like. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his torment.

With Sukunas name attached to the video and his heavy presence in the comment section, the video easily went viral. It was easily the most viewed video on your channel, getting on the trending pages of several different platforms.

(Sukuna): hey

It’s nearly a week after the first video that Sukuna messages you, and the hype is still going strong, and your follower count grows greatly from it.

(Y/N): hi! What’s up?

(Sukuna): do you want to film a video for my channel now? We can play a game, I have a few

(Y/N): sure that sounds fun!

Oh how wrong you were. The game Sukuna chose was a scary game, a shooter game with scary zombies and a lot of possible jumpscares. He doesn’t tell you either, so on the night of filming - he insisted on it being nighttime to get the full scary effect - you were caught off guard.

“I don’t know about this.” You whined once you saw the title. The two of you were video calling alongside playing the game together, and Sukuna’s eyes flicked to your figure on the screen.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll carry you, don’t worry.” He had started filming as soon as he’d set up the game, and you were filming yourself as well for him.

“You promise it won’t be too scary?”

“If it’s too scary just close your eyes and I’ll protect you.” Smiling softly at you, he started up the game. The beginning was fine, just a quick introduction to the game, but as soon as things started to get moving, you were scared.

“Sukuna a zombie is eating me!” You screamed, frantically pushing buttons in an attempt to get it off.

“It’s okay!” He quickly got rid of it, and made sure to stay close to your character as the story progressed.

“(Y/N) stay by me, there’s about to be a whole lot of them.”

“Close your eyes there’s about to be a jump scare here.”

“Don’t worry about getting that item, I’ll grab it for you!”

Sukuna nearly forgot he was being filmed, saying sweet things to you to help encourage you and make sure you weren’t overwhelmed. There were many parts where you screamed in fright and Sukuna was there to coo at you and tell you it was okay. He made sure that your character never died, making sure to keep you close until the end of the game.

“Sukuna, that was so hard!” Squishing your cheeks in your hands, you looked at him through your phone.

“It was fun though, wasn’t it? I had fun with you.” Completely abandoning the game, he stared down at his phone with a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, when there weren’t so many zombies.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and it made him laugh. Leaning his head into his hand, Sukuna grinned when you yawned.

“Aw, are you tired? Better go to sleep soon.” His voice dropped to a lower volume, like you were right next to him.

“I will.” You yawned again and it made Sukuna yawn as well.

“Get off the phone and go to bed, you’re making me tired too.”

“Fine.” Whining out the word, you waved sleepily. “Goodnight Sukuna, I’ll send you the video files in the morning, okay?”

“Night.” Waving back, Sukuna waited until you hung up to turn his stuff off as well.

In the morning, Sukuna was ready to edit. What usually took him a week to edit out of laziness, he took only a day to edit this video with you together. Rewatching the footage, he nearly gagged at seeing how soft his face got when he looked at you, and most of those parts were left in because he couldn’t stand to watch them and fix them.

(Sukuna): videos up

The next day, he messaged you. Once again Sukuna patrolled the comments, swiftly deleting any that said even a hint of a bad thing about you. There was less this time, what with Sukuna adding a warning at the beginning of the video threatening anyone that talked down at you.

This video, like the first, went viral. But for a much different reason. Since Sukuna was emotionally unable to deal with how sappy he was and edit those parts out, everyone got to see how soft he was for you. If the comments weren’t mean, they were screaming about how you and Sukuna must be dating now, because why else would he look at you and talk to you like that?

And much to Sukuna’s dismay, there were also fancam edits of you two together. Any clippable moment of him being sweet on you in the videos you’d made together along with the photos you’d posted on Instagram were edited together and posted on Twitter. You both were tagged in every single one, making sure Sukuna saw all the videos of you and him together. He saved all of them too, delighting in the way you looked with him with all those pretty filters.

By the end of the day, people were trying to put a ship name together for the two of you and he’s seen you repost a few fancams with cute messages of thanks as well. Seeing you receptive to the fans screaming about the two of you made him happy, even if he was still too nervous to text you about anything outside of Youtube.

As more comments came in, people on Twitter were begging him to do a vlog with you. You had quite a few on your channel, going to cafes or filming what your day or week was like. Sukuna had watched them all and was jealous of every single person that appeared alongside you.

(Y/N): hey I’m doing a live on Instagram if you want to join me! I know people really like us together lol it’ll be great for views

(Sukuna): sure

Did you want him to join now? He’d just gotten out of the shower and thrown on a pair of sweats, he wasn’t exactly decent. But he didn’t want to waste time getting ready only for you to end the live.

“Hi Sukuna!” You smiled and waved when he appeared on the screen.

“Hey.” He waved back, not caring about the angle he was holding the camera in. He saw hearts begin to fill up the screen and comments started to fly by, almost all in caps about the fact he was shirtless talking to you.

“Guys, don’t be weird! Who cares that Sukuna is shirtless?” You tried to stop them, but it was clear you were flustered as well. You weren’t looking at him, peeking at him through the screen a few times.

“God you’re all thirsty as fuck.” Sukuna finally looked at himself on the screen. He was shirtless and in bed, hair slightly damp and tousled on his pillow. Reading a few comments, he shot up. “Of course I’m wearing pants, you nasty fuck!” Storming out of bed, he stood in front of the only mirror in his house that wasn’t in the bathroom and turned the camera around. “See, look!”

“Oh.” Gasping softly, you were glad Sukuna didn’t notice you screenshot the live. Clad in only gray sweatpants, Sukuna’s freshly cleaned skin gleamed in the light of his bedroom and every single muscle and edge of his body was on display.

“There, told you I wasn’t fucking naked.” Rolling his eyes, he flopped back down on the bed. None of the comments had gotten any better, all of them talking about how hot he was and how you were so lucky to know him in real life.

“L-let's talk about something else.” You stammered, not showing your face on camera for a few minutes. Sukuna laughed at the comments teasing you for being embarrassed, agreeing with some of them under his breath.

“So, what the fuck are you all doing here?” Sukuna posed the question at the chat, but at you as well.

“Well before you came everyone was talking about you...and you know how everyone has been begging for us to vlog?” You started off slowly, peeking an eye at his face.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to call you to ask how you felt about that?” How he felt? Why did you want to know?

“You couldn’t have texted me that?” That wasn’t necessarily what he wanted to say, but it made you chuckle, so it was okay.

“No! I wanted to ask so everyone could know!”

“I don’t mind it.” If you wanted to vlog with him, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“So…” Worrying your lip, you looked off camera for a few seconds before looking directly at Sukuna. “Would you like to be in a vlog with me, at a cafe? It’s outside the city, kind of far, but we can rent a car or-”

“Yes.” Sukuna interrupted, nodding his head quickly. “I’ll come. We don’t have to rent a car, I’ll drive.”

“Really?” The comments were just as shocked as you were. Sukuna never filmed anywhere but his home and the gym, this would be a monumental occasion.

“Did you want me to say no?”

“No!” You screamed immediately, nearly dropping your phone. “I just- I wasn’t expecting you to say yes!”

“Well I did.” Sukuna bit his lip, running a hand through his hair and flexing his arm. “So I guess it’s a date, huh?” His normal asshole confidence was back now that you were appearing through a screen and not right next to him. A surprised sound came from the back of your throat, and you nearly dropped the phone again.

“Y-yeah! A date!” It felt good to have you flustered for once and not Sukuna. Laughing heartily at you, Sukuna smirked at the comments.

“Was that all you wanted to ask me or was there something more?”

“No, that was it!”

“Alright.” Licking his lip and letting his tongue hang out of his mouth a little, Sukuna watched you bite your lip as well. “Well I’m gonna go, I got stuff to do, but I’ll text you later (Y/N).” Dropping his voice as he said goodbye, Sukuna left the livestream.

“Holy fuck.” As soon as his phone was off, Sukuna let out a breath he’d been holding in. His heart was pounding hard despite how confident he was in his actions. Flirting was nothing new to him, but with you it felt different and like he’d never done it before in his life.

He watched the rest of your livestream while he finished getting ready for bed, laughing at the comments still teasing you about getting flustered with him. The notifications for Twitter were going off as well, and he knew for sure that there were new fancams for him to check out later.

(Y/N): Sukuna!! You’re so embarrassing!

Texting him after your stream, your cheeks were still burning at the memory.

(Sukuna): hey, you said it would be good for views and it was

(Y/N): I know…

(Y/N): did you really mean it, about coming with me?

(Sukuna): of course. If I didn’t want to I would have said no

(Y/N): that’s good lol!

There was a lull in conversation, and Sukuna nearly fell asleep waiting for you to either text him again or for him to figure out what to say next.

(Y/N): so, a date huh? Are you going to bring me flowers?

Now he was awake. He didn’t expect you to bring that up again, and his eyes flew open. Sukuna’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, mind going blank on what to say.

(Y/N): lol just kidding! I know you only said that for the stream! I’ll text you later about the details, I’m about to knock out

(Y/N): goodnight :)

Well shit. Now he definitely wanted it to be a date.

[lostbbygorl]

LEVI ACKERMAN AS A YOUTUBER:

✨ It was Hange's idea, not Levi's

✨ Levi hates attention usually, so when Hange suggested he start a channel that millions of people can view anytime, he wanted to smack her

✨ But then Erwin and Mike kept harping about (Mike wanted to see him do a sparkly intro)

✨ He wanted his friends to leave him alone, so he grudgingly decided to make one video

✨ It was a rant video LMFAOOO

✨ He basically exposed all his friends names and the fact that they wouldn't leave him alone until he made a video

✨ Well, everyone liked that. I'm not kidding, he's like a 30 year old Joanna Cedia man rose to fame lightning fast

✨ Even though his video kinda lacked structure, it was FULL of meme potential and Gen Z did their thang so Levi's suddenly trending

✨ Levi is the only one from the group who doesn't use social media so when Levi and Hange show him that the whole internet is simping for him his eyes widen like in that scene where Eren suddenly titan shifted

✨ He saw that his comments under the video were mostly positive and that men and women alike were complimenting his good looks and he's super confused cause our rough baby is actually super soft and insecure and he doesn't understand that it don't matter if he ain't tall and tanned and that he's scarred, he's fine asf

✨ Well that was an ego boost and Levi realized he wants to make videos

✨ Levi is shy asf so his intros are super curt and he gets straight to the point

✨ His viewers love his dry, dark humor and unfiltered behavior

✨ Wattpad authors love his deep voice, and well, so does everyone else

✨ His viewers are a literal CULT and Levi's like Corpse Husband but with a face

✨ He's still wondering what the main focus of his channel should be so for the first one month of running it, he usually takes subscriber requests

✨ Levi isn't as ~mysterious~ as he likes to think he is lol. His subscribers figured out his undercover teddy bear personality as soon as he stuttered in the second video's intro. Also, all his psychology student fans kept posting body language analyses in the comment section. His second video was basically him reacting to the memes people made

✨ After that, he started making house tour videos and working/studying productivity tip videos and just YOLO cuz his fans eat whatever up

✨ Levi DEFO has an aesthetic house and bedroom. He's too tidy and classy not to

✨ With each video, you can see the editing getting better

✨ His following keeps growing and he finally opens up a social media account he barely posts on

✨ Levi finds meme culture annoying so the memes that people send him just get eyebrows raised at

✨ Levi TRULY started loving being a youtuber when he started getting paid cuz that check was SWEET (I mean he's a capricorn guys cmon)

✨ He reacts to memes and Gen Z slang cuz he has a mostly Gen Z fanbase and now he's getting trendier much to his friends surprise

✨ He starts saying "All facts no printer" and "spill the tea" unironically. He also likes the grunge and alt aesthetic

✨ You know what else comes with being a handsome edgy older youtuber? THIRSTY FANS

✨ Levi knows what fanfiction is but he doesn't know fanfic terminology so when Hange comes over to his house one day and starts laughing hysterically at "Levi x Reader 18+ smut" he's confused

✨ When Hange and explains and shows him the smut his soul leaves his body I-

✨ He reviews his smut very seriously on his channel the next day and the SMUT AUTHORS HAVE ALL DEACTIVATED-

✨ Levi isn't extremely fond of the way he's being sexualized but he's a grown man and he's just gonna take it though he hopes it'll stop. You know what Levi does like? FANART

✨ Levi finds it impressive that his young fans can use him as a source of creativity and that he's someone's muse. He makes it a habit to like whatever fanart he comes across on social media and leave an encouraging comment

✨ The first time Levi smiled on his channel was when he saw a chibi fanart of himself

✨ Levi doesn't really wanna do collabs initially but when a younger, more experienced youtuber suggested a collab he wasn't against it surprisingly

✨ The internet BROKE when THE Sasha Blouse made a video with Levi where they made dalgona coffee

✨ Levi didn't realize how big Sasha is till he saw all the comments on social media and he considers the collab with Sasha his first celebrity encounter

✨ Sasha and Levi end up becoming an unlikely friendship duo and fans LOVE the personality contrast (I love Levi and Sasha's interactions and I love personality contrasts so stfu Levi and Sasha's friendship >>>>>)

✨ It takes Levi at least a year to realize how big his impact is. He first realizes this when a little girl recognizes him in public and tells him all starry eyed that she started cleaning her room more after watching his videos and he's internally crying

✨ Levi also makes more friends because of this platform and Sasha isn't the only one. He surprisingly became fast friends with Eren, Connie, and Jean (AKA the kings of the gaming world), and he's on better terms with his cousin Mikasa ( A well known fashion vlogger) after he opened his channel

✨ He is now the father of younger, more chaotic youtubers and he honestly loves the light it brings to his life

✨ Has he changed after fame? Well yes and no. Levi is the same hardworking, introverted, sophisticated man he was before fame, he just grew better communication skills and has a wider friend group now

✨ He doesn't think he's above anybody though he has more confidence now, and he treats his fans very politely. He's super humble and anybody who has met him praises him

✨ Youtube brought only positive changes to his life and he doesn't express it much but he's very grateful to for his subscribers and fanbase

✨ He never knew that he'd actually like being surrounded by so many bright people and that he'd actually like broadening his horizons and making new friends. He's experienced many different things like playing horror games with Eren (he didn't flinch) and mukbangs with Sasha

✨ He liked each experience in his own way though he liked some less than the others

✨ After a life of gloom and loneliness, this is a nice change for him and he's quietly but warmly welcoming it. He feels accepted and he feel like he belongs after blowing up. People love him for his weird humor, scars, and brash personality. They want more of him and he's influenced them in a good way

✨ Levi goes to bed every night tired yet happy after his actual job, his job as a youtuber, and his many fan interactions

✨ And the money too of course BUT BESIDES THE POINT-

✨ Overall, his channel is super binge worthy and 10/10 content

✨ Do subscribe

[singingrainbows]

The people bullying ppl online and declaring everyone who doesn't participate in the boycott imoral, are behaving EXACTLY like the extremist vegans that this site loves to rag on.

Really it is so eerily similar.

Vegan extremists became so hated by the general public that they tainted the entire movement of veganism and vegatarianism for a lot of ppl.

They caused so many set backs to an otherwise good cause. I support veganism and vegetarianism, though I myself am not one; but my timeline often has posts filled with hate and bad faith arguments against it.

Yet the same ppl who dunk on vegans for the extreme stances of some, are now pushing those exact same extreme stances, and seem comepletely unaware of how dangerously close they are to flirting with hypocrissy.

Trans people are VALID! They deserve safety and support and acknowlegement.

Jewish ppl are valid and derserve safety and support and acknowlegement.

There are petitions and support groups and charities that could all use a boost and support.

But rather than spotlight those, and accepting that not everyone can or will boycot the game/HP merch for whatever reason, they bully and shout and declare anyone who even slightly disagrees with them a bad ally. There has even been suicide baiting!

Now there may be many reasons ppl ended up with the game and/or won't embrace a full boycut.

Maybe they were unaware of all the shit surrounding it when they bought the game.

Maybe they don't believe boycots work and would rather spend their energy supporting the movement in other ways. Because lets be clear, giving up something you love is fucking hard. It takes so much energy and commitment and willpower. Not everyone has the fortitude for that, but dismissing their potential to help in other ways is absurd.

Maybe they've got compassion fatigue. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compassion_fatigue (I've been there. I strained so hard to do everything right for everyone and every cause that I had a mental breakdown. It took almost a year to get back into activism again after that. I still have to pace myself.)

Maybe a million other things.

(Or maybe they're an asshole. But attacking them is not gonna change their mind. If they say something truly heinous, report and block.)

But regardless of the reasons bullying and hurtful/hateful language and statements is NOT OK!

Now I myself am in fact boycotting the game and the merch. I only engage in the fandom sandbox.

But there is a limit to how many boycots I can take. I haven't shopped in H&M or Zara for almost a decade. I try to steer clear of Amazon unless absoloutely necesscary. The list goes on.

This gets incredibly stressful, and that's not even counting the morality choices I have to weigh on every shopping trip, and even when throwing out my trash!

Sometimes I have to just say fuck it, I want that Haribo. Fuck it, I have zero energy to sort this shit for recycling, I'm binning it all. Fuck it, I'm not picking up other ppl's trash today, I'm leaving it in the road. And so on and so forth.

When I remember to pace myself and let myself have breaks from doing everything right, I get the energy to commit to the causes once more.

Now what was the point of that tangent? To illustrate that there's never just that ONE cause to pay attention to, and that not everyone can go all in on the one that's most important to you in the way that you want them to. That does not make them an enemy or a shitty ally with no value who can't be trusted!

Instead of trolling HP posts and sending JKR death threats and ranting at and shitting on would be allies, how about sharing petitions and links to charities and donating if you can.

How about making a post detailing all the things wrong with the game. Let ppl know the facts, but do NOT demand boycots or talk badly about the fans. Because if you do, then suddenly the focus in not where it should be. You will alienate potential allies, those against you will just come out stronger, and you will severely limit the amount of ppl who share it.

Now, here are some charities and petitions:

[midnghtcities]

better with you

you’re not well. harry wants to make you feel better. word count: 2.3k

(A/N: i’ll admit, this one is pretty self-indulgent. endometriosis affects an estimated 1 in 10 women during their reproductive years, which is approximately 176 million women in the world (source) and i personally know of many women who struggle to have their pain heard. i hate having to put on a brave face when it feels like the inside of my uterus is on fire. so this one is for the people who have to push through the pain especially when no one is there to take care of you!!!)

/ read on wattpad /

It always started low in your belly. Sometimes a flutter or an uncomfortable prickle, other times more sharp, like someone was sweeping the tip of a knife across your abdomen. But you knew what it meant, things weren’t going to be looking so good in the coming hours.

You were always a meticulous planner, you had to be. You always knew roughly when you would be alright to make plans, or when you would be better off staying at home. But when Harry waltzed into your life a few weeks ago, that ideal went out the window. From that first initial coffee and walk around Hyde Park, you craved more and more time with Harry. He was enigmatic, so bright and warm that you worried saying no to hanging out with him would mean he would disappear and take with him that new-found sunshine you had just gotten used to basking in. 

So you knew you could be playing a risky game when Harry texted you, requesting your company for dinner. It had been a busy week for you at work meaning you both hadn’t had much time for each other so you said yes without even thinking. It wasn’t until you looked at your calendar that you realised you probably should have come up with some excuse to say no. But the thought of being with Harry, hearing his honey-like drawl and feeling the warmth of his hand on your waist or back - or potentially somewhere lower - was too hard to resist. Surely it would be fine.

You carefully laid your cutlery down next to the plate of ravioli you were half-way through eating, trying to discern whether this was just a fleeting moment of pain or something more sinister. It was always hard to tell at first and the immediate feeling of panic that accompanied never helped with this determination.

“You okay?” a somewhat concerned voice broke your focus.

You looked up, realising that you had been staring quite fixedly at your plate of food. Harry was sitting across from you, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. In any other moment, you would feel that bubbly thrill rush over knowing that Harry was staring so intently. You still found yourself wondering at times why he was interested in you, but after your fifth date you were starting to believe that maybe it was possible for someone like Harry to be interested in a girl like you. But now, as you sat with a lump in your throat and a cold sheen forming over your body, you wished you were anywhere but here.

You cleared your throat, “Uh, yeah, all good. I just have to go to the bathroom.” You stood up carefully, slipping your bag over your shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Harry sounded very worried now.

“Yeah, yeah,” you tried to morph your face into what felt like a carefree expression, but you knew Harry could see right through you. You quickly turned away and made your way to the restroom before he could question further.

With the bathroom door safely locked, you faced yourself in the mirror’s reflection. Your face had taken on an almost unsightly pallor and there was a beginning layer of perspiration across your brow. You grabbed a hand towel to dab your face dry when a flash of pain ripped across your abdomen. You doubled over, biting hard on your lip to keep any groans of discomfort inside. It was clear that your monthly pain had decided to make an early appearance.

Painful periods were something you always had to deal with. The past year though, each one seemed to be worse than the last. Days had been taken off of work, plans had been cancelled, and you had begun to find yourself becoming a ball of nerves whenever that time of month rolled around. Maybe this period you would be huddled around the toilet bowl for hours on end. Or unable to even get out of bed. What if you were out somewhere alone and suddenly couldn’t walk anymore because being upright hurt too much? You didn’t want to take your chances, so more often than not you would ensure you were at home when you knew you needed to be. This was all before Harry though.

The thought of Harry caused you to perk up a little. The pain had subsided slightly, to more of a dull ache. You took the opportunity to quickly rummage in your bag and down two ibuprofen, something you had begun to always carry. You knew it would be a futile attempt at combating the pain, but you figured it was better than nothing. Three deep breaths later, you carefully walked back out to Harry.

His gaze was fixed on his phone, his left thumb and index finger gripping his bottom lip in what you could only take as an action of restlessness. It looked as though he hadn’t touched his risotto since you had left. As you approached, he looked up. “Are you alright?”

“I’m really sorry,” your voice was shaky. You gripped the back of the chair you had previously occupied, willing yourself to get it together. “I think I need to go home, I’m starting to feel like rubbish.”

Concern flooded Harry’s face, his eyes darting up and down to further assess your appearance. You forced yourself to stand up straighter as though this would portray that you are fine. “Is it the food?” he questioned, looking at his own plate apprehensively.

“No, no. It’s just… I get pain sometimes.”

He looked confused. You weren’t one to broadcast your misgivings, so you knew Harry would be slightly shocked to hear of your chronic condition. “Let me get the bill then,” he stood up whilst motioning for a waiter’s attention. 

“No, please finish your dinner!”

“What?” he looked at you incredulously, “I’m not going to just let you leave alone when you’re clearly not feeling well.”

As you were about to retort, a spasm of hurt ricocheted across your belly leaving you only able to suck in a sharp breath. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt your fingers tighten against the back of the chair. Mere seconds later you felt a comforting warmth envelop you along with the barely-there scent of spice and vanilla -- it was Harry. He had wrapped his arms around you carefully, his right hand pulling your face into his chest.

“What’s going on?” Harry said quietly, trying his best to hide how frantic he was really feeling.

You let go of the chair and gripped onto Harry’s arm, gladly accepting the comforting gesture. It was almost uncanny how the pain seemed to dissipate quickly as you stood there enfolded in Harry.

“Excuse me sir,” you felt Harry’s head turn as a voice intruded upon them, “is everything alright?” It was the waiter that Harry had flagged down.

“I’m sorry, could we just grab the bill please? My partner isn’t feeling too well all of the sudden.”

You blinked your eyes open and carefully pulled out of Harry’s embrace. You had almost forgotten you both were standing in the middle of a restaurant. The waiter had already bustled off to get the bill.

“Hey,” Harry grabbed your hand, giving a gentle squeeze, “are you okay?”

You did your best to plaster on a smile and feign indifference but judging from Harry’s stony gaze there was no point in even pretending that you were alright. “Right now it’s slightly better, but the pain will be back no doubt.”

He nodded once and quickly collected his coat from his chair and phone off of the table. The waiter had returned and before you could even reach for your wallet, Harry had already tapped his card and began leading you out of the restaurant, his arm wrapping around your waist once more. “The Uber should be here in five minutes.”

You could barely voice your thanks when another wave of pain rolled on through, leaving nothing but shaky breaths and clenched fists in its wake. Harry’s arm tightened around you, and you gladly leaned into him as you focused on willing the pain away.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry spoke up a few beats later.

You pulled your head away from his chest, meeting his concerned gaze. “Why are you apologising?”

“I shouldn’t have made dinner tonight seem like such a big deal. I know we haven’t seen each other this week but I didn’t want you to feel pressure to come out even if you’re unwell.”

“I promise I felt fine when I said yes. In fact, I felt completely fine up until 20 minutes ago. It’s just how this thing goes sometimes.”

He looked a little confused.

“It’s… It’s my period,” you continued on hoping to answer the questions that were probably already forming in his mind, “I always get pain around the time of my period. And during as well. It is a little earlier this time though.”

“I have a sister, I’ve never seen her in pain like this though,” he said, eyebrows furrowed.

You just shrugged, wincing slightly as another jab of pain pierced your abdomen.

Harry didn’t question the issue further, instead he turned to rubbing circles against your lower back. But you could tell he was thinking intently. A few minutes later, he spotted the Uber and you both got in. Harry insisted on you scooting over to the middle of the backseat so that he could keep his arm secured around you. It was almost like he was never going to let you go now, and you don’t think you had any issue with that.

You kept your eyes closed the whole car ride, letting the sway of the car lull you into a stupor. A low thrum of pain was present the whole time but at least it didn’t flare up. You knew the less you moved, the better it felt.

“We’re here,” Harry said quietly after some time.

Eyes blinking open, you realised he was right. Harry guided you out of the car and up the steps to your flat. His eyes stayed intensely locked on you as you fished the keys out of your bag. It was hard to mask the intense ache the movements caused but you didn’t want Harry to worry more than he already was.

“Thank you so much for helping me,” you said once inside.

“Don’t thank me yet. Let’s get you into bed. Do you have a hot water bottle? Ibuprofen in the kitchen?”

Your mouth gaped slightly. “Harry, it’s fine. I’ll be alright now.”

He stared back at you slightly incredulously. “Have you seen yourself right now? You can barely stand upright. Just getting your key in the door was an effort and a half. Let me take care of you.”

You felt your eyes prickle with tears, you had forgotten what it was like to have someone want to take care of you. The past year you had battled through the pain alone, you hadn’t realised the simple act of someone offering to make you a hot water bottle would feel so good. 

After telling Harry where to find everything, you gingerly walked down the hall to your room. You changed into your comfiest pair of sweats and eased yourself onto your bed. This definitely wasn’t the worst pain you had been in - no throwing up or collapsing to be seen thank god - but it was enough to make doing the simplest tasks a chore. 

Harry crept in a few minutes later, a mug of steaming tea in one hand and the hot water bottle tucked under his other arm. You graciously accepted the bottle, pressing it against your stomach. A sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“Do you mind?” Harry asked, motioning to the space available next to you.

“Please.”

He stripped off his coat and slipped out of his boots before climbing in carefully beside you. You adjusted your position so that your head lay comfortably against his chest and he could easily cradle your side. The contact seemed to melt the pain away instantly.

“Do you think you have endometriosis?” Harry spoke up a few minutes later.

You hummed in confusion, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“I did some quick research in the car. Your symptoms sound like it could be that. Have you ever gone to a doctor to check it out?”

“They just told me to take pain relief. It’s really hard to diagnose, like, you need surgery. I think if it’s not heavily impacting your life then you just have to deal with it.”

“What?” Harry said in a shocked tone. “It’s clearly impacting! You looked like you were going to pass out in that restaurant. Let’s make an appointment in the morning, I’m going with you… If that’s okay with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. How many people had brushed off your pain like you were crazy and here was Harry, researching and wanting to book doctors appointments after an hour. “Come here,” you whispered.

“What?”

“I want to kiss you, you idiot. You have to lean down though, I don’t want to move too much.”

His previously concerned face gave way to a dimple-filled grin as he gladly followed your request. Your lips met, moving in sync immediately. You could tell Harry was being conservative, obviously worried to push things too far, but you were just happy to have him.

“You know,” he said once you both broke apart, “you can buy this little machine that uses electric currents to your nerves and it’s meant to help with the pain.”

“How much research did you do in that car ride?” you said whilst chuckling.

“I was worried!”

You gave him a soft smile, “Thank you. But I think for now I’ll stick with the water bottle. And your cuddles.”

“Are they helping?” Harry said, giving you a squeeze.

“They are. I feel much better with you.” 

The pain did seem to be at bay and for once that accompanying feeling of dread didn’t seem to be eating you up from inside out. For once it felt like you were going to get through this and you would be okay.

[chokemeanakin]

idk if you do like song request sorta things, but could you do a fic based on the song "night bus" by gabrielle alpin? especially the "suddenly i know that i'm on my way home to you for the last time" part--maybe an angsty sort of thing where the reader and anakin's relationship gets discovered and she gets sent away or smth? idk i couldn't stop thinking ab it last night and i have no motivation to write it myself and i love your writing so maybe?? tysm!

Oh sis this was so much fun to write. Even though it is sad... idk i liked getting in the feels. Anyway I hope it meets your expectations. If it didn’t, well, pls write it yourself and tag me! I’d love to see what your vision was ❤️🤗

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

WC: 1.8k

Night Bus - Anakin x gn Reader angst

You swore this would never be you. You promised yourself it would last. If two people love each other, there should be no reason you couldn’t be together.

That’s childish thinking, you tugged your jacket tighter around you. Your boots dragged through the grey sludge of the sidewalk, remnants from a lazy downpour of wet snow a few hours before. Your mind whirled and stomach churned as the streetlights began blinking on one by one, the markets closing up for the night. 

It should have been a peaceful thing, but you felt sick. With each step closer to your destination, you felt as though a current was dragging you back, the darkness closing in around you. You knew as soon as you reached him, it would be for the last time. Your fairytale would come to an end, and as you walked through the bitter streets of Coruscant on your way to the Jedi temple, you prepared yourself to say goodbye to your prince charming. 

“It’s selfish, what you’re doing,” Master Windu had hissed at you. You were still reeling from his admittance that he knew about your and Anakin’s relationship. You had been so careful to keep it a secret, you had no idea how he found out. 

“Obi-Wan told you,” your lips felt like rubber.

“He did not,” Mace leveled his gaze at you. “He knows, I’m sure of it. But he respects Anakin too much to give him away like that. A flaw on his part, which will be dealt with later.”

Your head was swimming. What did this mean for you? For Anakin? For the both of you together? Obviously you knew what was next, but your mind couldn’t wrap around it, couldn’t accept it.

“You need to let him go,” Mace declared, not a hint of mercy detected. 

“I can’t.”

“Then he needs to let you go.”

“He won’t.”

“Then you will be the fall of the Jedi!” His sudden outburst made you flinch. Your heart beat fast, blood swishing in your ears. His body was still as a statue, but his eyes were wide and his chest was heaving with an anger that was barely under control. Master Windu was of the more… pessimistic Jedi, but you had never really seen him lose control so completely. Now, you could see he was overwhelmingly stressed. No, not stressed-- panicked. 

“He needs me,” you replied shakily, unwilling to stand down. Anakin had made it clear over and over again that if you just said the word, he would leave the Order for you. The only reason he was still here was because you wouldn’t let him abandon his purpose for you. Windu may think you would be the downfall of the Jedi, but you were the reason it hadn’t completely fallen yet.

“You’re a poison to him.”

It looked like neither of you would be backing down. Windu saw this, and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened them, he strolled to his seat, and then motioned for you to take the one beside him.

“Let me explain myself,” his voice was much calmer now, but the hard look in his eyes remained. “Anakin is important. Not just to the Jedi, but to the balance of life itself.”

“He never asked for any of that.”

“But he still is,” Windu argued. “There’s no changing that fact. He is powerful. He has potential. And he’s unstable. He was before he met you, and he is now-- even more so.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of how he feels about you.”

You clenched your fists and glared at Windu. “How could being in love ever be a bad thing?”

“Love is an attachment. When one is attached to something, it can be taken away. When it is taken away, it breeds anger and hate and resentment, a path to the dar--”

“Oh, spare me the lecture,” you spit. “I know of your Jedi laws and morals. Now tell me why our love is so forbidden if all it’s bringing him is happiness and peace?”

“For now. It’s happiness and peace for now, because it’s new. I should have stepped in sooner, should have stopped it before it was too late. But with the start of the war, I lost sight of it, got too distracted…” Windu shook his head. “If you end it now, he’ll be able to move on. The damage won’t be permanent.”

“I don’t understand,” your chest stung. 

“He loves you. Any Jedi can sense that. And you love him, too.” You couldn’t meet Windu’s gaze. “If something happens to you, and you are taken away from him, or-- Force forbid-- you die, it will break him. He will be consumed by anger and hatred and he will fall to the dark side. His emotions are strong, far too strong to be handled easily. If Anakin goes to the darkside, the Jedi will be no match for the Sith. We will perish, and the war will be lost, and so will any semblance of peace that exists in this life.”

Mace’s tone softened as he saw the tears build up in your eyes. “This path is inevitable, and it needs to be prevented. The only way we can be sure is to remove you from his life. It was a mistake letting you two get so close, and the Council takes full responsibility. But now, you must let him go.”

“How certain are you,” you forced the words from your aching throat. “How certain are you of this future?”

“Yoda had a vision.”

Your breath left you like a balloon deflating. You were glad you were sitting now, because you didn’t think your legs could handle the weight as you felt your world crumble around you. Anakin’s smiling face flashed through your mind, and a tear trailed down your face.

“You have until sunrise to leave Coruscant,” Mace’s tone was back to authoritative, formal and commanding, leaving no room for argument. “You can never return. Not as long as Anakin is here. You may never come in contact with him ever again.”

“And who’s going to stop me if I do? Who’s going to stop him?”

“If you have any respect for every innocent living being in this galaxy, you will do what needs to be done. Now go. You have a job to do.”

You swore you could hear your heart drop and shatter to the ground in a million tiny pieces as you stood from that chair and walked out of the council room. You spent the day mulling over your conversation, crying, pacing, and pulling at your hair. You tried to think of anything you could do to be with Anakin-- pretend to leave him and be even more secretive, get a different identity so you could stay on Coruscant, run away together. You knew he would if you asked.

But deep down, you knew Windu was right. The Jedi needed Anakin, and you were his weakness. If Anakin left, or fell to the dark side because of you, it would be the end of the galaxy. Just because it wasn’t a possibility now, doesn’t mean it wasn’t one in the future. Yoda had a vision, after all, and the fear in Windu’s eyes told you it was serious. 

Now here you were, walking to Anakin’s place to spend one last night with him before you had to leave him. Forever. Your body ached from the cold, the grief, and from packing your belongings all afternoon. You could barely form words as you booked a ship off the planet for early next morning. Then, you had numbly pulled on your jacket and boots, and began your trek to Anakin one last time. 

Cars whizzed overhead, the honking distant in your hollow ears. You were shaking, but not from the cold, as you caught sight of the Jedi temple ahead. The entrance was only a few feet away. You just had to walk through the door, sneak down the hallway, and you’d be there. He’d open the door, offer you a blinding smile, pull you inside, and warm you up with a drink and a kiss. You would put something on the holonet like you always did, just for background noise, and lay down on the bed and just be together. Talk, or kiss, or hold each other. Feel his laugh vibrate through your body because he was pressed so close to you, watch his curls bounce as he shook his head, listen to the soft sounds of him sleeping. The moonlight always made him look like some sort of space prince as it glistened off his cheekbones, painting him in a pale blue. You would trace your fingertips along his face, and he would pretend to still be asleep as he smiled and kissed your fingertips. So happy, so at peace, so in love--

You stopped in your tracks.

I can’t do this.

The pain was building up again. You thought your heart had already shattered, but the ghost of it kept cracking. Something awful was breaking in your chest with each breath, each second, each step toward your goodbye. There was no way you could face him and be okay tonight. The tears were already making an appearance.

“You need to let him go,” Windu’s voice battled your sorrow. “You will be the fall of the Jedi.”

The breath you took was like swallowing razor blades as the cold air filled your lungs. Steadying yourself on the wall of the temple, you pushed your way past the entrance and entered the main hall. The familiar smell worsened your nausea, and you kept your hood up and head down as you walked the familiar path down the hall, taking the elevator up, and then crossing the last hallway before you found his door.

You schooled your features and shoved down the swirling tempest threatening to spill out of you. Once your hands stopped trembling, you brought a fist up and knocked on the door.

Anakin opened the door. He was smiling brilliantly, blue eyes sparkling in the light. The image of his face falling, eyes clouding over in confusion and hurt as he searched for you the next morning and found you gone flashed through your mind. You knew he would never stop searching for you. This is not what he would have wanted. But Mace was right-- he would heal, in time, and he could live the life he was supposed to live; as a Jedi, a General, and the Chosen One. 

“Anakin,” you forced yourself to smile. “Hi.”

His smile turned from charming to soft, hands immediately moving to pull you into his room for the last time. “You’re freezing, my love. Let’s get you warmed up, I already made you something to drink.”

[sombreboy]

Corrupted | yandere!myg

▎ 18+ ▎ xtremity; 6 ▎ pairing: yandere!myg x y/n ▎ genre: smut, mafia au ▎ word count: 5.8k ▎ warnings: toxic/possessive behavior, myg cuts kth, oral(f!rec), cursing/dirtytalk, unprotected sex. 

You're the sweetest of fruits, the aura of purity surrounding you sparks a fire within Min Yoongi that has him utterly smitten with an obsessive need for you in every way possible. He brings you into his world as his personal secretary, but in reality he doesn't need it. What he craves with his entire being is to corrupt the pure angel that is you with his carnal desires.

Min Yoongi.

The most powerful and renown of men within the mafia realm.

Feared by companies, feared by men, desired by women.

He's extremely intelligent and a delicate planner, loyal to the bone if you've earned it & utterly merciless, thus have grown to become what people would call an invincible man. No one dared to try to play him at this point. Many have tried, and they'd be politely greeted with their boss' heart on a silver platter. And word travels fast

With a flick of his wrist he could end anybody's opportunities and connections.

Everyone wanted to become his ally, because if you can't beat them, join them, as they say.

And with power, comes responsibility.. And a disgusting amount of wealth.

Dirty cash, yes. But money is money to him.

Throughout the years he'd been building his empire, starting from the bottom until he's so high up nobody could dream to get even remotely close to his level.

But something was missing in Min Yoongi's Life.

Even with this incredible amount of power, which he loved... He loved it, the power kink he's developed ingrained within him along with other questionable ways of getting his adrenaline pumping.

But he's grown quite bored of the one night stands. Those girls were already dirty, corrupted and let him do whatever he wanted. They were gladly a whore for his cash, and it was a fun time killer for a while... But it's grown oh so dull.

As if fate was on his side (hah), his world was turned around when he was going through the sent in applications for the position to become his personal secretary. He technically didn't need it, but 'some work load off his shoulders' didn't sound all too bad, as his right hand Taehyung had urged him to finally do something about.

He sighed in disappointment as he flipped through the resumes. To be honest, he didn't bother to read most of them, and simply took a quick glance at the photos provided of the applicant.

''Hey boss, did you look through the apps yet?''

Taehyung carefully closed the door behind him before strolling up to stand next to Yoongi's large office chair, bending slightly to get a view of the papers as well.

''I am currently, as you can probably tell.'' Yoongi answered, a mild annoyance in his voice as he crumples up one of the papers into a ball before throwing it at Taehyung, whom only scoffs in amusement.

''What about this one? She's very qualified.'' Taehyung continues as he leans over the desk to point at the woman's previous experiences.

Yoongi sighs, ''She's perfectly qualified, but if you look closely you can also see that she's worked for one of our competitors. Can't trust that.''

Taehyung raises his eyebrows followed with a quiet 'ah', skimming through the stack of papers himself in silence.

That's when Min Yoongi suddenly leaned forward in his chair, causing it to shriek out by the sudden movement, startling Taehyung.

''Let me see that one again. Go back.''

Taehyung's eyebrows were drawn together in confusion, but he did as told and went back to the one resume his boss seemed oddly interested in. He picked it out of the stack, and quickly Yoongi snatched it from his hands to put it flat down on the desk in front of him.

''Boss, she's not qualified at all...''

''Silence.''

Yoongi fished out his reading glasses from his pocket and put them on, bringing the paper closer to his face to get a proper look at your face. His tongue snaked out to wet his lips, a common habit of his when in deep focus. A new feeling came to life within his usually so monotone soul. Well, it wasn't new... He knew exactly what this emotion was.

''I want her here by tomorrow, Taehyung.'' He said as he handed the paper over to his right hand man.

Taehyung was shocked, and it was obvious in his expression, ''T-tomorrow? That's such a short notice, Yoon-''

''I'm sorry, but did it sound like I was asking you, Mr. Kim? Tomorrow, 9 a.m Sharp. I shall have her desk in order for her outside of my office by then.''

Taehyung looked at your photo as he licked his lips in thought. He's seen this look on his friend-... boss this way only once before. And it didn't end well, because he ...'let her go', as he'd been told to phrase it.

''Yes... I'm on it, right away.''

Yoongi observed his right hand man exiting his office, a fire burning up in his core as he clasped his hands on the table whilst staring blankly into nothingness.

This time he wouldn't make the same mistake.

This time he'd have more self control. He's certain of it.

You were over the moon when the news reached you over the phone, a certain Mr. Kim personally congratulating you for being hired as the secretary for the Mr. Min Yoongi himself.

You'd been throwing out resumes everywhere, and never in a million years did you expect to hear back from this one. It was a long shot, but turns out that miracles do happen.

''Thank you, thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Kim!''

A vibrating chuckle echoed through the call, ''Don't thank me, Mr. Min personally asked me to hire you.''

You remained silent, not able to properly register what was just said.

So Taehyung continued,

''He also requires you to be available to start right away, tomorrow. 9 a.m.''

You choked on your own breath, ''Tomorrow? That's..''

''A very short notice, I'm aware. But there is no room for negotiation, so if you would please accomodate to his wishes...''

You nodded, blushing when you realize he can't see you, so you croax out,

''Y-yes, It's no problem. I'll come tomorrow.''

Taehyung giggles, this time sounding a lot more lighthearted,

''9 a.m, don't be late. Good luck- I mean... Congratulations. It will be a pleasure to work with you.''

And with that, this Mr. Kim hung up on you, leaving you in the silence on the other end.

A wide smile spread across your face as you went to bed that night, excited for new opportunities and a higher paycheck.

8.45 a.m

You anxiously stepped into the grand building entrance, dressed in your favorite work appropriate outfit.

It was simple, really; A cream white dress-shirt fitted to your curves with a flattering v-neck, matched with a black waist high pencil skirt that ended just above your knees, topped off with a pair of cute, black low heels.

You were greeted by a handsome young man standing by the front desk, confidently striding over to you with a box-shaped smile on his lips as he reached his hand out to grab yours,

''Good morning, Miss L/N. Im Kim Taehyung, you spoke with me on the phone last night. On time, even a little early. You're putting in a good impression already.'

You bow before accepting his hand, which he shakes lightly before letting go. He gestures with his hand for you to follow him into the elevator.

Standing there, he presses the button to the floor on the very top, watching the doors close before redirecting his attention to you,

''If you have any questions regarding any matter, don't hesitate to ask me. It is my job after all.''

He looked almost apologetic, and you shoot him a soft smile,

''Thank you. I'm curious, actually...''

''Anything at all, I will do my best to answer you.''

''Well,'' You shift the weight on your feet, ''I don't really know much about secretary work... And I'm quite nervous that I won't live up to Mr.Min's expectations.''

Taehyung's smile softens, a vague hint of concern in his eyes. He puts his hand on your shoulder in reassurance,

''Don't worry too much. That's why I'm here, to teach you and guide you. We know your experience isn't as high as it could've been, but Mr. Min insisted for it to be you.''

You look up at him with confusion, ''Why did he insist?''

Taehyung bit his lip, knowing he probably said too much. He shook his head with a dismissive smile,

''I believe he saw potential, and the fact that you have no past experience means we don't have to worry about other companies being behind you to try to get at our company.''

You froze for a second, his choice of words kind of didn't make sense to you. But before you were able to say anything else, the elevator doors opened.

Taehyung let his hand move from your shoulder to the small of your back to guide you out of the elevator, ushering you to walk next to him.

He halted at a big desk in the lobby outside of an office with a big sign hanging on the door,

Mr. Min Yoongi.

You put your purse down on the big desk. Your desk. It was a lot fancier than you imagined, and the large office chair looked extremely comfortable and high end, almost like a throne.

Meanwhile, Taehyung knocked on the office door to your new boss and carefully opened it, leaning in to announce your arrival. He came back out, nudging his chin in the office's direction,

''He's waiting for you.''

''Oh, I better head in then. I'm nervous...'' You straightened out the pencil skirt while Taehyung walked up closer to you with a reassuring smile, placing his hand on your shoulder once more before speaking,

''Good luck.''

And with that, he returned to the elevator, a small wave thrown your way before the doors closed on him.

You took a deep breath, straightening your posture before carefully opening the door, peeking inside.

''Don't be shy. Come in.''

Closing the door behind you, you finally let out the breath you've been holding. He beckoned for you to come closer,

''Have a seat.''

You sit down in front of him, hands clasped in your lap as you finally get a good look at the man you're now working for.

He was incredibly good looking, pale clear skin, blonde hair that was neatly styled to frame his face. He was dressed in a very expensive suit, definitely personally tailored to fit his frame like a glove.

His eyes, however, were completely unreadable. Beautiful, yes, the feline-like shape and intense stare piercing through you like a sharpened knife, but there was no indication of any emotion whatsoever.

Until his lips curled up in a gummy-like smile, instantly softening his entire expression. He was almost too beautiful.

To be honest, you had expected somebody older. Much older, considering the grand Company and it's reputation (which you didn't know that much of, but you did a tiny bit of research before getting here.).

''What are you thinking about?'' He interrupted your thoughts.

You smiled shyly, looking down at your lap, twiddling your fingers anxiously,

''It's silly...''

He leaned forward, his chin resting in his palm as he keeps his gaze fixed on you with genuine interest,

''Tell me.''

You nod, one hand running through your hair to put strands of it behind your ear. The action alone had Yoongi's chest erupt into fireworks, mouth already watering at the flustered state you're in. He loved feeling so powerful, the status difference between the two of you so apparent.

''Well, I was just thinking that you weren't at all how I imagined the Min Yoongi to be.''

He tilted his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips,

''Oh? Then what did you imagine 'The Min Yoongi' to be?''

''I kind of imagined you as an old man, considering..'' You gesture around you to emphasize, ''All of this. How did you manage to create all of this at such an age.''

He scoffed, amused, ''Understandable.''

''It's just impressive, is all.''

The praise hit him differently. He's never heard his success to be described as 'impressive', and he's sure you wouldn't say that if you knew the things he'd done to get here. But still... When it came from your lips, he almost felt proud.

''And now you're part of it.''

A long moment of silence followed, Yoongi simply keeping his eyes on you as if he's dissecting you with his eyes. You slowly started to feel fidgety, not sure what to do or say in this situation, and he was thriving off of it. The uncertainty in your eyes, the way you kept playing with your hair. He finally broke the silence by pulling out a stack of documents from his desk drawer and dropping it in front of you with a loud thud, causing you to jump in your chair.

''I want you to digitalize these documents for me and then send them to my e-mail. Everything is set up for you on the computer by your desk, and if you have any questions just call for Mr. Kim or give me a knock.''

You were surprised by the sudden change from conversation to business, but you stood up and took the Heavy stack of documents into your arms, bowing politely at your boss,

''Yes.''

He placed his hands on his hips, clacking his tongue once in disapproval,

''In here, you're to address me as Sir... So, try again.''

You exhaled quietly, his entire change in demeanor making you feel both weak and excited at once,

''Yes, sir.''

He nodded, a flick of his wrist to usher for you to leave.

''Good girl. Dismissed.''

You bowed once more, a blush on your cheeks before hurrying out of his office to get to work.

Yoongi threw himself back against the backrest of his chair with a groan as soon as the door closed behind you. Hissing curses to himself as he looked down on his lap, the strained fabric caging his prominent erection had given him hell Throughout the entire conversation. How did you affect him so greatly?

Fuck, he wanted you so badly already.

He wanted to take this slower. He really did. Give you time... Enough time to maybe love him too.

But he's so incredibly impatient.

''Min Yoongi... Control yourself.'' He whispered to himself as he palmed himself through the fabric of his dress pants, a soft, vibrating groan rumbling in his chest at the thought of you on your knees underneath his desk.

Just a little more patience.

You were finally getting the hang of this, but you sure hoped he didn't expect you to finish this entire stack today. It was way too much.

You leaned back into your chair with a sigh, glancing over at the Clock.

Crap, you hadn't eaten lunch yet! And the day just literally flew by.

Just as if on call, Taehyung waltzed out of the elevator with a big boxy grin on his face as he came up to you.

''Hello, secretary. I was gonna ask if you've had your lunch yet? Me and some coworkers are having some takeout on the floor below if you'd like to join.''

You were almost about to say no, but then your stomach protested,

''Actually, that would be Lovely. I'm starving!''

You got up and walked towards the elevator with Taehyung before halting, glancing over at your boss' office.

''What about Mr. Min?''

Taehyung shrugged, ''He never eats with us.''

You pout, ''Do you ever ask?''

Tae looks guilty, ''Not lately.''

''What?! I bet he's super hungry too, I'm gonna ask.''

You strode over to the office door without a thought, not listening to Taehyung's protests in the back before knocking and opening the door without waiting, peeking in to simply see the back of Yoongi's chair facing you.

''Sir?''

The chair turned around slowly, the very same handsome man as you saw this morning looking slightly less put together in a way staring back at you. Something was different, yet not.

''What can I do for you, y/n?''

''I-I was just... gonna ask if you wanted to come with me and Tae- Mr. Kim downstairs for lunch...If you're not too busy.''

You didn't know why, but the air felt thicker in his office, and you felt as if you shrunk underneath his gaze.

He licked his lips in thought before nodding,

''I'll be right there. Go ahead without me.''

You couldn't help but smile, giving him a nod before closing the door, heading back to Taehyung, who's looking at you dumbfounded.

''He rejected you, didn't he? I told you he-''

You held up your hand to silence Taehyung, a victorious smile on your lips,

''He said he's coming, but we could go ahead.''

Taehyung's jaw dropped before breaking into an amused smile, ''No way...''

Yoongi stood up from his chair, taking a moment to take a good look at himself in the large body mirror on his wall. He ran his fingers through his hair as to fix the slight mess he'd caused. How inconvenient that you'd walked in on him just after he'd relieved himself off some well needed stress.

How couldn't he, you drove him mad, his body is aching for you already.

He was surprised that you'd asked him to join you for lunch, and part of him was thrilled. This was a good step, a good development. You must already feel something for him. You're closer to being wrapped around his finger.

As he made his way down to the staff room, he saw you sitting with his other employees, chatting and smiling. You looked gorgeous.

But Yoongi was boiling at the way you smiled, because it wasn't directed towards him, but towards his own right hand man, Taehyung. And he had the audacity to smile back, sitting way too close to you.

The entire room fell silent when they noticed Yoongi's presence, he casually sat down across from you at the table, as the space next to you was already occupied by Taehyung.

''W-welcome, boss.'' Jung Hoseok exclaimed with an uncertain smile.

Yoongi nodded in acknowledgement,

''What are we having?''

You smiled widely, completely oblivious to the tension between the others at his presence, pushing forward a takeout box in front of him,

''Chinese! It's delicious, try it!''

Yoongi scrunched his nose. He hadn't had takeout in years, accustomed to a more expensive taste at this point. But it was you... You offered this to him. The others anxiously shared looks, knowing that if they were the ones who would've so casually offered this to him, he wouldn't have reacted all that kindly.

''Thank you.'' He simply responded as he opened it, grabbing a pair of chopsticks before calmy diggin into it.

Everyone's eyes widened, but as soon as Yoongi looked up they hurried to continue eating and chatting as if their stern boss didn't just THANK the new employee.

You smiled, ''Good, huh?''

Yoongi nods, saying nothing as he chews his food. He almost looked harmless, cute even with the way his cheeks puffed up when they were full of food.

You turned to Taehyung to continue a conversation that you had going on before Yoongi's arrival. He listened in, and it was purely business talk, but the way you were leaned in and so casually addressing his by his birth name had Yoongi's blood boiling once again. This was no good. His right hand man knows that you were his, his only. HIS. He better step back on the casualty.

Taehyung didn't. He smiled back, conversing way too nicely the entire lunch, and it did nothing but spur Yoongi's possessiveness on.

He's too far gone. He knew that. There's no way he'd be able to wait longer, he needed to claim you before anyone else did. At least that's how it felt in his world.

Yoongi put his food back on the table when he finished, taking a sip of his water before standing back up, making the chair scrape and screech against the floors which silences everyone once more.

''I'm heading back. Thank you for the lunch.''

Everyone bows and nods at their boss, including you. He gives Taehyung a piercing glare before saying one last thing,

''Mr. Kim, stop by my office when you're finished.''

''You asked for me, boss?''

As he's done countless of times before, he steps inside of Yoongi's office, striding over to stand in front of the familiar desk. He kept his hands in the pockets of his dresspants, swallowing tightly as to where his adam's apple bobs heavily. He knows it couldn't be good.

''Sit down, get comfortable.. Why would you act as if I'm a stranger to you, hm?''

Taehyung hesitantly sits down in front of Yoongi, whom is sitting frozen in Place with his hands clasped together on the table before speaking once more,

''Mr. Kim Taehyung. You're my right hand, aren't you?''

Taehyung nods.

''But first and foremost, you're also my friend, correct?''

''Correct..''

''So you're loyal to me, no? You'd do anything to prove your loyalty?''

Taehyung didn't like where this was going, but he nodded with a confused expression.

Yoongi suddenly lunges forward, a tight fist grabbing onto Taehyung's collar to pull him forward over the desk until their faces are merely inches apart.

''Then you will understand why I am doing what I am about to do.'' Yoongi growls out.

Taehyung reaches up to claw at Yoongis tight hold, gasping for air,

''W-what the fuck Yoongi... Let go!''

Yoongi holds him in an iron claw grip as his other hand reaches to grab onto Taehyung's wrist, then lets his collar go. Taehyung gasps for air, not registering when Yoongi pushes Tae's palm flat down on the desk Surface and holds in in Place as he reaches for something in his desk drawer.

''Boss, what is this about, w-what are you– FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!''

Taehyung whines out in pain when Yoongi had pulled out a small, golden plated knife and didn't hesitate for even a second before letting it chomp down at the tip of Taehyung's ring finger. It was just enough to cause immense pain, a bleeding, but not so much that it'd be noticeable in the long run. He had considered taking a whole finger, but since Taehyung was his closest friend, he felt generous.

Yoongi let go and sat back down in his chair, calmly watching Taehyung hiss and curse as he hid his finger to keep pressure in the fabric of his shirt. He looked up at his boss with anger, and fear, and Disappointment.

''What the fuck was that for, YOONGI?!''

Yoongi clacked his tongue as he cleaned off the blood from his knife with a napkin,

''For overstepping boundaries.''

''I OVERSTEPPED BOUNDARIES?!'' Tae yelled while staring at the knife.

Yoongi stared up at Taehyung, ''You're being too friendly with what's mine. You know I don't like that.''

Taehyung scoffs, ''YOURS?''

''Taehyung...''

''Seriously, I'm worried about you Yoongi, and I stay by you through it all. But what if you end up repeating the same shit you did four years ago? I already see the way you look at y/n.''

Yoongi's eye twitched at the reminder, stopping his movements of cleaning the knife, ''Watch your mouth. That's none of your business.''

''Isn't it though? I'm your right hand, I'm supposed to give you my advice if needed.''

''You're supposed to keep your mouth shut if you want to keep your job... And your fingers.''

Taehyung admits defeat, and sighs, ''Anything else?''

Yoongi shakes his head, ''As long as you understand.''

Taehyung gets up and walks towards the door, looking back at his friend...boss, one last time with a concerned expression,

''Just... She's too pure... Don't repeat the same mistakes.''

Yoongi's jaw clenches,

''I'm different now. Dismissed.''

Yoongi had kept his fair distance the following week, letting you simply do your job. Everytime he saw you interact with any of the other employees, he was seething. He kept his eyes on you as often as he was able to, just watching you work. The way you'd tuck your hair behind your ears, to the way your nose scrunched when you were focused.

His chest fluttered, his soul burned.

His flesh craved yours.

You were the sweetest, purest person he's ever encountered, and he knew this was the fact from the very moment he saw your face on that photo. He could tell, he knows people, their faces. You were so innocent, filled with hopes and positivity.

Everything he wasn't.

The desire to corrupt your purity was more intense than ever, and he'd decided; tonight he was gonna indulge in what he's been craving. And he always gets what he wants.

Suddenly life didn't feel so dull anymore. Honestly, ever since you joined, every day has been anything but dull to Yoongi. He almost loved the torture he put himself through by not just ravaging you on day one. Watching you, pining for you. It was new, this Alien feeling of wanting something so badly.

But patience was at an all time low, it was time. He needed you.

You answered your office phone,

''Mr. Min's office.''

A dark, familiar chuckle echoed on the line,

''Hello there, angel.''

A nickname your boss had given you the past few days... Angel. You were still not used to it, a blush on your cheeks at the petname.

''H-hello sir. What can I do for you?''

You were kind of confused why he decided to call your phone, he was literally in the room behind yours.

''There's so much you could do for me, angel. But let's start with you coming into my office, I need you.''

You furrowed your brows, ''You need me? I'm already working on the documents you just gave me–''

''No, no. This is much more important.''

''Oh?''

''I'm waiting.''

Click.

Yoongi stood up as soon as he heard your footsteps approaching, striding over to you as soon as the door opened, pulling you in to push your back against the door to force it closed behind you. He towered over you like a predator, instantly making you shrink down into a prey.

''S-sir, what are you doing...''

Yoongi's pupils were blown wide, breaths shallow but Heavy as he stares at you,

''I need you....Fuck, angel, only you can help me.''

You shrink down further, almost slowly sliding down the wall. Yoongi lets you, and as you sit down in a squat he's dropped down to his knees with you, his palms pressed against the door as he leans closer to your face,

''Do you think you could help me?''

You look down at the floor, heavily blushing,

''I-I'm not sure what you mean...''

He grabs your chin to direct your attention to his face, the expression on your face of fear mixed with confusion makes his cock twitch.

''Do you need me to spell it out for you? I've wanted you since I first laid eyes on your pretty face. I can't contain myself any longer, I can't... stay away from you.''

Your mouth falls open in realization, your cheeks reddening even further. He stares at your plump lips before leaning in to Place a soft, experimental kiss. He groans at the taste,

''You're so sweet. Too sweet. Too pure, aren't you?''

You exhale sharply, and he withdraws to look at your obvious expression.

''Are you... untouched, my angel?''

You hide your face in your hands, heart racing so fast it feels like it's gonna burst out of your chest. But you nod.

Yoongi feels a wave of this incredible urge once more, his cock hardening even further at the thought of ruining you completely.

''I'd be your first...''

He stands up, pulling you up with him as he leads you to his desk and lifts you up on it, spreading your legs for him as he steps inbetween to pull you in for Another kiss. He whispers into your lips between chaste kisses,

''I'd be your first... And your last... Your only one... You wanna be mine, angel? Hm?''

You feel the heat rushing through your body, the familiar burning sensation rushing down to your core growing more intense with every kiss.

''Tell me, angel.''

You nod, whispering a breahy 'yes'.

He groans into the kiss as his hands pull your skirt up over your ass pushing himself closer to grind his clothed erection against your clothed core. He nips at your lips when he hears your small whines, and pulls back with a frustrated noise rumbling from his throat,

''As much as I love teasing, I have basically been teasing myself for days waiting for this very moment.''

He drops down to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs further as you lay back on the desk. He swiftly pulls your panties down to expose your tight little slit for him, and he licks his lips in anticipation, no longer able to wait.

''Mine.'' He whispers, moreso to himself before giving your clit a kiss. You Breathe out quietly, and he dives in once more to let his tongue taste you.

''Mine.'' He repeats with a soft moan as he alternates between licks and kisses, finally drawing out more noises from you. It still wasn't enough, though. He wanted you to be a screaming mess for him, begging for more.

''Delicious and soppy, all for me.''

''yes, yes..'' You whimper out, not able to focus as you put your arm over your eyes to hide in shyness. Yoongi easily slides one finger into your cunt while still licking at your clit, moaning once more when he feels your pussy already tightening around his finger.

''You're gonna cum already, angel? Have you ever been fingered before?''

You shake your head, ''Not by...somebody else..''

''Oh, my dear...'' Yoongi chuckles before sliding a second finger in, curling them slightly to provide a pressure towards your sensitive spot as he finds it. You buck your hips against his fingers as your moans grow louder, and your cunt gets soppier and dripping down to his knuckles until there's a wet puddle growing on the table.

''My good girl loves this... Look how fucking dripping wet you are.'' He growls  out, speeding up his fingers whilst licking your clit faster. You whine out when you finally cum, back arching and pussy pulsating as it contracts in a vice grip around his fingers. He keeps fucking you with his fingers, digging deeper to draw out the most beautiful sound of your painful whines of overstimulation.

''T-too much....'' You cry out, but he continues.

''But you feel so fucking good, it sounds so sexy when you whine for me..''

''A-ah s-sensitive, Sir, sir.....!''

Yoongis lips curl up in a wicked smile, finally pulling his fingers out of you, smearing the wetness on his fingers over your clit as he slowly rubs your sensitive nub in circles, drawing more twitches from your body. He fucking loved it.

''Oh, you're so precious.''

He stands up again, admiring the view of your totally messy wetness.

''Now...'' He pauses while he unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down to his hips to pull his painfully hard erection out, ''I'm going to claim what's mine.''

You spread your legs further when he positions himself between your legs, lips agape and breathing heavily while looking up at him, ''Please...''

His lip twitches as if he wants to smile at your current state, so fucking beautiful. And all for him.

''You want my cock that badly?''

You nod, ''Yes, please...''

''Your first, last, and only...'' He hisses out when he lines himself up with your entrance, finally pushing himself in without letting you adjust properly. You cry out, a mix between pain and pleasure in your voice, the perfect sound in Yoongi's ears as he moans softly with you.

''Your cunt feels so fucking good already... And it's all mine to use.''

He places his hands on your waist to pull you down a Little until your ass hangs off of the desk, giving him the perfect angle to thrust himself into you roughly, drawing more moans from your throat.

''I'm gonna use your little pussy every single day from now on, this is the only thing I want you to do for me from now on. Nothing else. I'll get a new secretary. All you gotta do is be mine.''

You nod, chanting out 'yes' with every snap of his hips becoming faster and rougher. His eyes are blown wide with desire and admiration at the way your body sinfully bounces beneath his ministrations.

''I love you. I love you, I fucking love fucking you.....'' Yoongi growls out, making a point out of every word with a thrust, the wet soppy noises of his skin slapping against yours like music to his ears.

His cock hardened further inside of you, reaching spots neither your or his fingers ever could. You cry out , arching your back for him when you feel your second orgasm building inside of you like an incoming wave.

Yoongi slows down when he feels your pussy tightening, lifting you up to carry you. He sits down in his large, throne-like chair with you on top of him, you leaning over to Place your palms on his shoulders to keep yourself in Place. He roughly grabs your ass to Bounce you up and down on his cock, the raw strength in his hips and arms making it more than easy for you to ride him.

He nips and kisses at your breasts, leaving small love marks here and there and admiring the way your skin bruises from his lips. He grows greedier, fucking up into you with less rhythm as he feels his own high reaching him,

''I'm gonna fill your little pure pussy up with my cum, angel. Your first. Your only. You're mine, baby, you're mine. Tell me.''

He growls as he bites your neck, this time definitely rougher than before as he listens to the beautiful noises of your pain, pleasure and incoherent attempts of telling him that you're his. Your cunt squeezes him tightly when you cry out as you cum for the second time.

Good enough, this is exactly the state he wanted you in.

''Mine.'' He snarls out before holding your ass in a bruising grasp,  pushing you down on his cock whilst bucking his hips up into you, stilling when he cums in hot, pulsating ropes to fill your pussy up at last.

He hisses out curses and praises, staying like this for a moment as he litters kisses all over your neck and chest.

You're like a ragdoll on top of him, breathing heavily and whimpering when he rubs circles on your bruised ass.

Yoongi nudges your head to make you look up at him, your cheek pressed against his chest as your doe eyes stare back up at him.

You smile, your usual small, precious, innocent smile, and he can't help but give you a gummy smile back.

His hands move up your back to play with your hair, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead and inhale your scent before whispering,

''You belong to me now.''

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[snowdice]

A Twist of Fate {Part 5} (Everything’s Fine Universe) [Dice Roll 13]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Remus & Janus & Patton, Remy & Patton

Characters: Janus, Patton, Remus, Remy

Summary: It wasn’t unheard of for people to gain soulmarks later in life, but it was quite rare. Usually fate was set in stone. Yet, when one’s fated death was prevented, fate had to make some adjustments.

As he fell, Patton may have felt a strange prickling feeling across his skin. He however, was not paying attention to that, far too distracted and confused. All he knew was that by the time he hit the ground, both of his hands were covered with marks. Later when he went home he’d notice even more in other places, but the ones he noticed when he hit the ground were the obvious ones on his hands.

Then, there was Janus. Janus had only one soulmark on his body. At least. He had only one soulmark that hadn’t been burnt off years ago. When he landed on top of Patton, he did not notice the marks that suddenly appeared on his arms and face. Patton did, however, notice two little designs appear on him: one along the side of his nose and the other right below the scaring on the left side of his face. The second was already colored in by the time they hit the ground.

Universe: Soulmate AU and Superhero AU

Genre: The Dice Roll said fluff and it is… but… it’s more fluff and angst, hurt/comfort-ish

Notes: Child abuse, homelessness, malnutrition, acid burns, platonic soulmates, car accidents mentioned, blood mentioned, death mentioned

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Janus woke in a bed and immediately panicked. A million terrified thoughts about why and how he was in a bed rushed through his mind before he even had a chance to peak open his eyes. Yet, then, through the darkness of his thoughts, he felt familiar little feet digging into his back. With a slow breath, he opened his eyes and craned his head around to find Remus smashed into the twin sized bed with him. He gave his head a few seconds to catch back up with his situation.

The bakery man, Patton. Remus had predicted Patton’s death, and Janus had saved him. That action had changed fate so much that Janus and Remus had both gotten new soulmarks. Janus wasn’t even sure how many each of them had gotten; he hadn’t bothered to check yet. However, he did know that one of the soulmarks belonged to Patton.

It was absolutely terrifying. A parental soulmate. If it had been any other type of soulmate, it would have been easier. The problem with a parental soulmate is that if Patton wanted to, he could basically legally keep them. They were both minors with no biological parents left. Very few people would argue the point even if Janus and Remus went in kicking and screaming. Plus, being forced to stay in one place with adults who refused to listen would be a death sentence, and even if it wasn’t, they’d still be trapped. The blue star on Janus’s face was for all intents and purposes a mark of ownership. As someone who had lived in a cage for a few years, it didn’t exactly sit well with him.

But.

But, no matter how dangerous Patton may end up being to them, Janus knew with the state of Remus’s visions, they didn’t have a chance on the outside.

Remus had explained exactly what had happened after they “went to sleep” last night. Janus knew already that large changes in fate could potentially muddy a psychic’s vision for a time, particularly when said change personally affected the one having the visions. They didn’t often have to deal with this fact, as Remus was currently one of the two most powerful psychics in the world, his birth having been prophesied as far as hundreds of years ago (bar some important details), and as such small changes didn’t mess with his powers as much as they did other psychics’. However, there had been two instances where his abilities had dampened to a noticeable degree.

The first time had been when he’d helped Janus escape Halo Mark, though he’d still gotten enough feedback to keep them from getting recaptured. That instance had also corresponded to Remus and Janus getting new soulmarks, though each of them had only gotten one that time: the sibling ones for each other.

The second time had been at a seemingly random time. He and Janus had been on the run together for around six months when his visions had suddenly dimmed considerably to both of their distress. Remus had no idea what had caused it but had noticed a change in the landscape of the future when his visions returned the next day. He theorized that it must have been a good change as he couldn’t see many new events, just the absences of some. Remus could only see bad future and past events, so him not getting an influx of new things, probably was a net positive for the world. His best guess was that whatever the change was, it must have caused the sudden and inexplicable erasure of the death of the superhero Moxie Man that had been fated to occur in over two decades.

However, this circumstance was not quite like those two other times, because this time Remus could see nothing at all. Fate was apparently still in flux after Patton’s life was saved. Until it settled, Remus would have no more idea what the future held than Janus. This was a problem considering that Janus and Remus as 12 and 9-year-olds living on the streets and at least one of whom was still being doggedly tracked by Halo Mark, routinely almost died every day. Remus’s visions were what guided them to food and shelter and away from murders and people who would put them back in cages.

Which meant Patton, with his willingness to provide food and shelter and not murder them on the spot for the time being was a known risk and better than the possible alternatives. They may very well still end up in cages or dead, but it was the only chance they had.

So, Janus had let Patton take them back to his house and feed them dinner. He’d accepted the clean clothes and the shower. The only protest that had left his lips had been when Patton suggested they sleep in the closed off basement citing the fact that there was a queen sized bed down there, and if Janus and Remus refused to be in different rooms for the night, it would be more comfortable. Instead, they’d ended up sleeping in what Patton said had been his childhood bedroom, full of posters and pastel colors.

Janus had not wanted to submit to sleep the night before, but his body had been exhausted, so he had ended up asleep after a few hours. At least nothing had happened during the night. He was still okay. Remus was with him, and he could see sunlight peaking through the curtains on the window. He was running on the hope that Patton would keep up the nice act at least long enough for Remus to get his visions back. Though, he was unsure what would happen if Janus and Remus tried to leave.

Janus’s thoughts were brought back to the present when Remus started doing his typical morning squirming. He’d be up in a few minutes. A hand flopped over Janus’s chest and he mumbled something before his feet climbed up Janus’s back. Janus winced as they kicked the back of his neck lightly. The boy’s upper half wiggled and then flopped part way over Janus as his feet continued to kick a pattern into the air. He let out a soft humming sound and eventually his body poured completely over Janus, so he landed in a heap on the other side. He then continued to wiggle.

Janus reached out to grab one of his flailing hands, and after a moment, he calmed down a bit. His eyes flickered open. “Janus?” he asked.

“Mmm.”

He reached out to pat Janus’s cheeks a couple of times. “I’m’wake.”

“I can see that.”

“Go’ ‘orning.”

 “Good morning, Remus.”

There were a couple more moments of sleepy calm. Then, Remus woke up the rest of the way.

He popped up onto his knees on the bed, jostling Janus a bit. His eyes widened when he noticed how bouncy his sleeping surface was, and he bounced a couple of times. “I smell food!” he declared, still bouncing as he said it. “Do you think it’s good food? It smells like bacon. Will Patton burn the house down? I can’t see if he will or not. He cooked good spaghetti last night. Is that easy to cook? Is he a good cook? Will it taste good? Will it just be bacon? That would just be protein and fat. Does he know that? Did you know you can get malnourished if you don’t eat enough carbs even if you’re eating enough calories? You can die from it! Should we go down for breakfast or wait until he comes and gets us? Will he be mad if we pick wrong? Will he never come up to see us if we don’t go down and then we’ll starve to death? Where are my clothes? This shirt’s too big, but it’s really soft. It smells like lavender. Is that his detergent? Did you know eating one of the laundry pods can make you die? I wonder if he uses the laundry pods or the liquid stuff. If I lick my shirt and there is detergent on it, will I die? He washed my usual clothes yesterday after I changed. Will they smell like lavender too? I should check!” With that, Remus bounced out of bed to go grab his clothes.

Janus followed him out of bed. Patton had washed the clothes they’d arrived in, and they were probably now cleaner than they’d been since they’d gotten them. Remus continued to chatter as they dressed about nothing in particular. He seemed rather content in this new environment even while Janus was in constant worry. Of course, he usually relied on his visions to tell him if something was bad and may just instinctually be assuming if he wasn’t seeing anything, everything was fine, so Janus wasn’t sure if he should completely trust the boy’s perspective.

Once they were both dressed, they headed downstairs hand in hand.

“Hi boys,” Patton said when they arrived at the bottom of the steps. He was in the kitchen, but had angled himself, so he had a view of the stairs. Janus wasn’t sure if that was to make sure they didn’t make a break for it or just him being eager to greet them when they woke. “Want something to eat?” He seemed to already understand the power of food, and Janus wondered if that would be used against them soon.

“Yeah!” Remus said with no hesitation, perking up. For someone who only ever saw the worst of humanity, he had been strangely trusting when it came to Patton. His eagerness made Janus bristle a bit.

“Why don’t you come wash your hands and sit. I’m almost done.”

“Do I gotta?” Remus whined.

“Wash your hands?” Patton asked.

“Yeah, I took a shower just last night! I’m clean!”

Janus almost rolled his eyes at that assumption but was too preoccupied with watching Patton’s expression. Patton was frowning slightly, and Janus found himself waiting for his reaction with bated breath. Clearly, he wanted to say yes, Remus had to wash his hands, but if they pushed him would he deny Remus food over it?

Patton dithered. “I would prefer that you did so,” he said slowly after a moment, “as it is a good habit to have. Not washing your hands before you eat can make you sick since you might be getting germs into your mouth. That being said, I can’t make you do anything.”

“Yay!” Remus cheered.

“Go wash your hands, Remus,” Janus instructed firmly before he ran away with the idea.

“Aw,” he pouted, but listened. He wandered off to do as Janus asked, and Janus and Patton briefly met eyes before Janus turned to follow him. Remus had tucked his tongue between his teeth as he stood on his tiptoes to turn the water on. He wouldn’t be able to reach the soap where it was, so Janus reached forward and handed it to him. Janus’s reward for his good dead was a face full of bubbles once Remus got it into a lather. Janus sighed.

Once Remus’s hands were clean, instead of going to the table, he padded off to stand next to Patton as the man finished cooking the eggs. They immediately struck up a conversation about bugs Remus had seen in the last month. Meanwhile, Janus quickly rinsed his face of bubbles before washing and drying his hands himself.

“And then if flew away!” Remus was saying when Janus turned back.

“Aw,” Patton said, “that’s sad, but I bet he had some stuff to do.”

“It got eaten by a bird two days later!”

“O-oh,” Patton said, but shook off his surprise a moment later. “I think my mom had some books about local bugs in the office. Maybe we can figure out what type he was.”

“Really?!” Remus said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Sure,” Patton agreed.

“Ooo, do you have any books on octopuses?!” he asked. “I love octopuses!”

“I’m not sure,” Patton replied, “but we can look, or I can get you one from the library.”

“Oh, and Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaapanese beetles… are also pretty cool. Anyway, can we get a book about snakes for Evan.”

“Of course,” Patton said kindly as Janus resisted slamming his head against the counter. “Would one of you mind getting the grape juice out of the refrigerator, please.”

“Okay!” Remus agreed, skipping over to the fridge. Patton watched him go with a slight smile on his face that made Janus want to squirm with something. He couldn’t tell if it was a bad something or not, but it was definitely a something. Patton turned a bit to glance at Janus and quirked his lips up a bit more when he saw him watching. He returned his attention to the stove after a moment and poured the eggs into a prepared bowl. Then, he brought that along with a plate of bacon and toast to the table. He’d already cut up an orange for each of them and set it at every plate.

“He knows about scurvy,” Remus said, nodding in approval upon seeing it.

Patton let out a surprised laugh. “I do,” he said. “Do you like oranges?”

“Fruits are yucky, but it’s better than your body slow breaking down and swallowing a bunch of blood because your gums won’t stop bleeding,” Remus said, grabbing a piece of orange and stuffing it in his mouth.

“I… guess that’s right,” Patton said. “Maybe we can find a source of vitamin C that tastes better to you.”

“I don’t like broccoli!” he proclaimed.

“I’ll make a note of that,” Patton replied, amused. “Would you like me to get you some eggs?”

“Uh huh!”

Patton scooped out some eggs for him and hesitated with Janus before Janus held out his hand to take the bowl from him. He then offered the plate of bacon and toast around the table. “How did you two sleep?” Patton asked.

“Really good!” Remus answered. “I like beds!” Patton grimaced a bit, but Remus didn’t notice, too busy happily making himself an egg and bacon sandwich.

“And you, Evan?”

“Fine,” Janus replied, taking a bite of eggs. He blinked down at the eggs. Janus had made eggs on occasion while on the run, but there was something different about the eggs Patton made. They were a lot fluffier, and they tasted a lot better. In fact, the bacon and even the toast tasted better, though that may have just been that it was fresh bread instead of the day-old stuff they usually got. Plus, there was a lot of food, in fact, he was pretty sure Patton had no idea how much three people could eat in one go, because it seemed like he’d made enough for six. Janus stopped eating when he was full, and it was an odd experience to have two consecutive full meals. He felt a bit tired even though he’d only just woken up.

He felt himself mentally drift a bit as Remus and Patton continued eating. They were much slower since Remus kept rambling, and Patton kept trying to politely pay attention to what he was talking about. This was nice, he supposed. It was almost scary how easily he could feel himself settle around Patton. He couldn’t get attached or used to this. They’d have to leave eventually, he reminded himself harshly.

His attention was brought back to the conversation when Remus just about flipped his plate off the table with the way he threw his arms around. “Chocolate!” he exclaimed.

Janus looked over to see if that display of recklessness would make Patton mad, but it seemed to be the opposite. He seemed to enjoy Remus’s enthusiasm. “Chocolate chip or chocolate cookies?” he asked.

“Both!” Remus demanded.

“Double chocolate cookies then,” Patton said.

“Yay!”

Patton turned to Janus. “Would you like to help us make them?”

Janus nodded. “Sure,” he agreed, surmising they were talking about baking cookies.

“Great!” Patton said. “Can you help me clear the table?”

“If it means faster to cookies, yes!” Remus said, getting up and grabbing his plate and glass.

Janus grabbed his own plate with less enthusiasm and took it over towards the sink. Patton washed the dishes while he directed them around the room to gather different supplies for the cookie making.

Patton had just put the last dish on the drying rack and was drying his hands when the doorbell rang.

Janus immediately panicked because Patton could 100% have called the cops on them before they’d woken up. Patton seemed to sense his panic. “It’s just Remy!” Patton said. “Who… you don’t know. He’s a friend. A soul-friend. I totally forgot he was coming over today after his exam. I’ll ask him to leave.” He darted towards his front door.

Janus leaned over towards Remus. “Be ready to run just in case.”

Remus nodded solemnly even if he looked a bit sad, probably because he wouldn’t be able to make cookies if they had to bolt. Then, Janus followed after Patton on silent feet.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 6 Part 7

[kirishwima]

soulmate au 30 for Jumin x mc and yoosung x mc? pretty please?

30. Every so often you will get flashes of what your soulmate is seeing at the time, however your soulmate does not know when it happens. ok listen, i get how cute and/or heartbreaking this can be but like,,,,imagine the funny potential djdjksaljd

JUMIN:

* His first flash came unexpectedly-he was at school, another boring class dragging on and on, the view of Jihyun’s messy mint hair more interesting than whatever historical fact the teacher was rambling on about, when his eyes blinked, and suddenly the scenery changed, odd and unfamiliar, his heart stammering in his chest at the sight

* He was still seated, still a desk in front of him-but gone was the pricey mahogany of his private school’s classroom, instead a different, white-painted desk beneath his hands-his black pencilcase replaced with a white one, a cat-face key-chain dangling from its zipper, fingers-were they his own? No, they were far too different, but they were fumbling with the cat ears, flicking one between their thumb and index finger-

* He heard a voice calling out, an unfamiliar voice, an even more unfamiliar name-but before he could even begin to comprehend what was happening the scenery was gone, replaced with the view of his very furstrated teacher standing over his own, normal desk, Jihyun’s worried gaze turned to him with furrowed brows.

* Without bothering to give anyone an explanation, Jumin simply excused himself, leaving class early. 

* He didn’t speak of it to anyone until it happened again and again-as he caught more and more glimpses of this persons’ life, how he’d see their hands, fumbling with their phone in bed, looking up one thing after another online, or he’d see them in an alleway, see their knees as they bent down to coo at a nearby stray cat.

* The only person he eventually confided in was Jihyun-he told him his genuine concern, how he was afraid he was going mad, how else could he explain it all?

* Jihyun merely shook his head, a small smile on his lips-Jumin couldn’t be sure, but something about that smile didn’t feel right, as if it didn’t belong on his friend’s face. 

* “You’re one of the lucky ones Jumin. That’s your soulmate.”

* Jumin...didn’t know what to do with that information. So he very simply didn’t do anything. What use were these glimpses into a strangers life to him? And what use was it to them, to see glimpses of his own life?

* He became more self conscious, worried everytime he’d be caught doing something wrong, something inapprorpiate-he’d keep his interaction with his father and the random women that came home with him to a minimum, worried his soulmate would see-but why was he worried? Why should he care if they saw or not?

* Yet he carried on this way for years-he’d smile everytime he saw anything cat-related, remembering the flashes of his soulmate’s life, their love for cats; they’d recently adopted a black cat, a curious little thing that spent most of its time on their lap, their hands scratching behind its ears, or perched atop their shoulder like a parrot, as they’d turn their head to face it, the cat happily chirping at them in return.

* That’s the very first thought he had when Rika had presented him Elizabeth the 3d. Had his soulmate seen her? Had they gotten the same rush of excitement he did as she blinked up at him, as she used his lap as a pillow?

* He wondered what it’d be like if their two cats met, a black and white mess in a shared home, tails intertwined as they sat together, hand in hand, watching them-

* Shaking his head, he tried to put that thought out of his mind. After all, he had no plans to meet them. How could he? 

* ...how could he accept he’d been falling in love with someone he’d never even met?

YOOSUNG:

* His first glimpse into their life was....rather embarassing.

* He’d just come home from school, exhausted as exam season was right around the corner, college applications haunting his every waking moment-the only thing he wanted was to hop into the shower come out as a full-time employee of a high-paying firm.

* And he did-almost that, letting the water wash the stress of the day away, happily humming a song as he lathered shampoo into his hair, shutting his eyes to avoid any stray soap reaching them-

* -only to find an unfamiliar scene greet him as soon as he opened them again?! 

* He’d been in his shower, at his home-that much he was sure of so how-how was he outside right now?! How was he sitting in a park, a sandwich in his hands, and-there were people around him?! But he’s naked!

* He tried to cover up his body but his hands just wouldn’t follow, but as he looked closer-those hands were...manicured? Wait, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have pastel pink coloured nails, unless his sister pranked him again...

* Oh! Oh, this is his soulmate!

* His initial shriek of fear became an excited scream, his eyes trying to soak up everything they could about his soulmate, ignoring his current predicament as he took in the faces of their friends, the colour of their jeans, even the contents of their sandwich, what they liked and disliked, anything and everything about this scene-

* Only to remember his position as soon as the glimpse into their life faded, his own body greeting him once again, the water stinging his eyes as he looked around manically.

* “Wait” he mumbled, eyes wide, “if I saw into their life....and they can see into mine...”

* His poor mom couldn’t ever understand what the context behind her son yelling ‘DID THEY SEE MY D*CK?!” could be as his voice echoed through the entire house.

* Throughout the years he tried to find out as much info as he could about his soulmate-he found out they loved coffee, that they didn’t really like sweet things, since he saw them refusing sugary treats from their friends more than once, unless they were on a diet-which he’d be sure to tell them they didn’t need to unless they absoloutely wanted to! He doesn’t want his soulmate to think they’re not beautiful, he huffed, all the little things that made up their personality, little quirks and habits that made him fall more and more in love.

* He hoped they could see him too, could see things about him they liked-but as he looked around at his bleak life, the only light illuminating his room being the computer screen...he highly doubted it.

* Rika’s death tore him apart, and he knew his soulmate must’ve caught more than a small glimpse of his breakdown, the countless nights he spend crying, how he’d nod off in school because he spent his nights staring at the ceeling, a million thoughts racing through his mind.

* Yet somehow he knew-he knew his soulmate wasn’t the type of person to judge him for it.

* The fated day came when, during his orientation day at university, another flash came to him-a glimpse into his soulmate’s world...

* Only...they were looking at the same view as him? It was the same university, the exact same area-they must be in the orientation tour too!

* And-he saw himself, a blonde bob of hair a few meters ahead of them, could see his own shoulders tense in excitement, how his feet stopped his fast-paced walk-as did theirs, their gaze solely focused on him.

* He turned in a flash, scanning the faces of his fellow colleagues-until he found them. 

* He didn’t have to know what they looked like to know this was his soulmate. The way their eyes widened as they saw him, how their lips turned into a soft smile, their hands coming up to their reddened cheeks-he knew.

* Before his confidence could waver, he walked to them, gait shaky, extending a hand to them.

* “It’s...it’s nice to finally meet you.” he said.

* They looked up to him, their eyes clear, holding so much emotion-Yoosung couldn’t wait to begin to untangle this Ariadne’s tangle in their gaze.

* “I-you too” they stumbled over their words, “It’s funny I-I didn’t expect we’d meet like this-I don’t know you yet I feel like-like I’ve known you for a lifetime.”

* Yoosung laughed, clenching their hand tight as they shook his, remaining quiet-what was there even to say?

* His soulmate had nailed it right on the head.

* “Yeah” he said, “yeah, me too-but I can’t wait to spend another lifetime getting to know you”

listen Yoosung is a sappy romantic and once he becomes bold enough he’ll be the sappiest boo ever no u cant change my mind-

  -send me a headcanon for mystic messenger character(s) reactions!-

-you can find commission info on my bio if you’d like a full-fledged fic!-

[eddie-redmayne-italian-blog]

Eddie's interview from Style Magazine

By Valentina Ravizza

Photo: Boo George

Styling by Fabio Immediato.

Translate by me from Italian to English

HE WOULD HAVE had to spend the holiday in Italy,” I have a real obsession for your country “,Eddie Redmayne responds from a gray London,” more suited to my pale complexion”, and tells for the first time (and I try to collect my own thoughts) of his next character, the American activist Tom Hayden, protagonist of the protests against the Vietnam war in 1968 and 77e trial of the Chicago 7, the new film by Aaron Sorkin, arriving on Netflix from October 16. "Democracy is something extraordinarily beautiful and complex, nothing comes easily, we must defend our freedoms if we don't want them to be taken away from us."

 It can be risky for an actor to take a public position, Aren't you afraid to undermine your popularity?

“The truth is, I'm not afraid to take sides, we all should. I feel a social responsibility as a human being: today more than ever we should ask politicians certain questions. I'm not one who particularly likes to take risks unless it's for something I deeply believe in.”

For exemple?

To play Stephen Hawking in The Theory of Everything I met several people affected  by ALS and doctors who helped me to learn more about the disease, and now I am among the supporters of the Motor Neurone Disease Association. During the lockdown in Britain was made a list of  vulnerable people  and I found it shocking that patients with  motor neuron disease were not part of it, so I spoke to several politicians and went to help them.  As an actor my voice has more chances to be heard and I can bring  more light on this topics, I have to do it.

Also politicians as in the case of The Trial of Chicago 7?

This film tells how we got rights by changing wrong laws and remember  that progress could have gone in one direction rather than another.

Is there any similarity between the protests of the 1960s and those of movements such as Black Lives Matter ?

There are moments in history when people ask for society to really represent them and that's exactly what happened then and what many people are doing in these months. The demonstrations mentioned in the movie were against the  Vietnam  war, but also supported the claims  of the civil rights and feminist movements, the one against which they are protesting today has it’s roots in systemic racism, so the similarities are many.And there are also several other parallels between the two political situations: at the 1968 Democratic convention there was a former vice president, Hubert H. Humphrey, right-hand man of Lyndon Johnson, who ran for the White House, as today  former Vice President Joe Biden is in running, and  there was a Republican candidate for president who was betting  for “law and order” , then it was Richard Nixon, now the same campaign is being carried out by Donald Trump.

 Today there is social media, what would have happened if Tom Hayden and the others from Chicago had it?

Hard to say, myself I don't use them . While they represent a great tool of democracy that gives everyone a voice from the shore to  power, they also contribute to exacerbate and amplify the falsehoods and prejudices of those who listen only to what they want to hear, in a sort of echo chamber, and they can be used to manipulate things in a very pervasive way.

Is it more difficult to play a figure you esteem like Hayden or one you despise?

I try not to judge, to dissociate my sense of reality to recreate hers. I do as much research as possible, accumulating a lot of information and then throwing everything away and play  only  what's in the script, hoping that all the prep work has been absorbed somehow into my body, And knowing that that movie will never be. a documentary: I am creating a painting, not a photograph. For this I must accept that I will never be able to be exactly that person, that in something I will necessarily fail.

And when the character is a pure author’s Fantasy product?

It’s like when you were told at school to make  a free written essay: I hated it, I said “please, give me a lead!”, In these cases I try first of all to understand what the boundaries are, to find some elements of truth: for example, in the saga of the Fantastic Beasts to become the "Magizoologist" Newt Scamander I started by observing the work of zoologists.

How is it divided between entertainment and committed movies?

In my choices I have always let myself be guided by instinct: I read a script that my body reacts, I get excited, I laugh, I am touched to the point of  seeing myself in the role of that and than understand that I really have to do it.

Did the same happen with Tom Hayden?

They first  told me about it three years ago while  I was on vacation in Morocco, when told me it was Sorkin who wanted me it was like a dream come true. I read the script and  it not only ran , but it had a kind of syncopated rhythm I immediately loved it. Then when I got better informed about the project, I found out that it had been written years ago and I couldn't believe  he hadn't seen the light yet.

In fact, the first draft is from 2007.

We wondered if this movie had an audience, if it was current enough.Instead with what’s going it has become more and more pressing 

So much so that in order to release it this year, given the health emergency Paramount Pictures has decided to sell the film to Netflix (56 millions of dollars) to be distributed directly via streaming.

There could be no better way than Netflix to reach as many people as possible. And I say this as a passionate cinemas’  lover . Unfortunately in the last 20 years I have witnessed a general loss of attention span: there is always a new story to know, we are constantly being pulled in different directions, and instead find ourselves in a cinema hall being forced to sit there for two  hours and  half even when our attention tries to escape, it’s a kind of pleasant claustrophobia.

And theater, is  it still part of your life?

I know that  more years go by without me returning to the stage  more what I’ll say l’ll sound insincere, but yes, my career started from there, I spent 5 o 6 years working in London theaters. I knew almost nothing about cinema until that world began to open its doors to me, I had to learn a lot on the set.  I’ve been looking for a theatrical project, but so far  what has been proposed to me are works by the greatest authors, and instead I’d like do something new, fresh. Maybe I found it, but  I still can't say anything.

Have you ever thought of letting yourself be taken one day by another passion besides acting?

My other great love is art,  but if I ever have to work on it, I imagine myself more as a curator than as a co-worker. But I honestly think that being an actor is extraordinary: whatever part you encounter on your path continues to grow:although sure it’s a wild life and it's a drug.

 Are you a workaholic?

In the beginning I was because I had no alternative: I was constantly auditioning and once I got a part  immediately got to work, Until in this unfair world of acting there came a moment when I was suddenly successful and overnight I finally had the opportunity to choose. Many people are looking forward to retirement, I hope I’m offered roles even when I’m 80 years old.

At that age maybe you will also be behind the camera?

I'm a bit of a control freak,so yes, I could potentially one day  go directing, even just out of curiosity  But only if I had to find the right project, something in which I feel safe,

[theslashmix]

I didn’t merely see

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31545329

Written for the LLSS prompt  “ Harry Welsh isn't as oblivious as everybody thinks he is. (ft. Winnix and/or Speirton not being that subtle after all)"

beta-read by @thrillingdetectivetales

will publish a translation/ rework of it in Italian

For some reason, people seemed to forget that Harry was an observant man. He was an officer, and in his modest opinion, a decent one. This meant that he must have a good eye for detail and an even better brain to put things together in a coherent manner: it thus surprised him a bit that people seemed to stop at his jovial façade, somehow separating it from the competence that he had shown on the battlefield. It was almost as if there were two of him- good ol’ Harry, always down for drinks and shenanigans, and First Lieutenant Harry Welsh.

He had known that Winters and Nixon were a thing since Toccoa, and had guessed that they had been for a while before that- since OCS, probably. The signs were all there, almost painfully too easy to spot for someone who truly watched, instead of just seeing: the little touches that lingered just a second too long; the brief stretches of time when no one seemed to know where they were; the constant invasion of each other’s personal space that wasn’t an invasion at all, because at some point it had gotten from being my personal space, to you’re welcome in it, and it was slowly morphing into our personal space under Harry’s very eyes.

He had wondered why on Earth Sobel hadn’t picked up on it, what with him hating Winters’ guts and desperately trying to find even the smallest fault in the man. After some more careful observation, Harry had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t so surprising after all, because Sobel, consciously or not, didn’t want to see it. It was glaringly obvious that Sobel was very good at lying to himself, and him hating Winters was a big, fat lie. He was not good enough at lying to himself that he would try to destroy Winters with that particular tactic, though.

 When Sobel was removed from Easy, Harry drew a big sigh of relief.

It had made him uneasy, back then. It was hard to reconcile the stereotype of fairies he had in his head with the reality of how the two officers were. They should have been effeminate, weak, hysterical: they weren’t. Winters was everything that the high brass could want in an officer and a soldier, and Nixon, despite his flaws, was a good man, and a good intelligence officer. Harry wondered for long hours whether he ought to report them: a lifetime of conditioning was hard to shake. In the end he didn’t: D-Day arrived too quickly, and he had other things to think about rather than trying to convince a court martial that Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon were a homosexual couple. Especially since he had nothing more substantial than a lame “well, they are often together” and his own impressions.

After Normandy, Harry actively decided that he would do nothing about it, even if he didn’t approve. After Normandy, the boys would follow the two officers just about anywhere, and Harry couldn’t in good conscience take them from Easy, because that would mean that more of the boys would die in the incompetent hands of Norman Dyke.

 After Bastogne and Foy, after Nixon had decided to stay in that freezing hellhole with them (and with Winters) instead of taking the much sought-after furlough stateside, Harry decided that he would actively cover for them, if that was what it would take to keep Dick and Nix with them. He decided that it was completely wrong that the world had decreed that the two of them shouldn’t stay together, because after the long scrutiny Harry had imposed on them, there was only one conclusion possible: the two fit so well together that God must have made them to be together. Their relationship evolved to its full potential in a way that shouldn’t have been possible, if what was between them was just sinful lust.

 Now it had fully become our personal space, and the two could hold an entire conversation in just a single, prolonged stare, like an old married couple. Even the boys seemed to be always talking about them as a package deal. “Winters and Nixon said that…”, “Yesterday Winters and Nixon…”, “Do you think that Winters and Nixon will…?”, “Where are Winters and Nixon?”

 There could be no doubt whatsoever that Nix belonged with Dick and Dick belonged with Nix, the same way that Harry himself belonged with his beloved Kitty.

He noticed the signs of the very same thing going on between Speirs and Lip in Haguenau. It was nowhere near as long standing as Dick and Nix’s relationship. If he had to pinpoint its starting moment, Harry would have guessed around Bastogne, at the earliest. Probably when Speirs had stopped going to Dyke for updates on Easy and had started to go directly to Lip. There was still a tentativeness around them, the sweet, hesitating exultance of discovering each other, the pressing need to be together and close as much as possible.

It was in the way Lip perked up as soon as he heard Speirs’ steps, and in the way Speirs’ eyes kept turning in the direction of the house where a sick Carwood Lipton was billeted with a worried frown, as if the lieutenant was magnetic north and the captain was the hand of a compass. It was in the way Lip murmured Speirs’ Christian name when they thought that nobody was there to hear them, and in the way Speirs had claimed the right to take care of Lip as if it was his God-given privilege, and woe betide whoever dared to interfere. 

He hadn’t known the true depth of it though, not until one evening in Haguenau when he had decided to go and visit Lip in his billet. The lieutenant had healed from pneumonia in a way that Roe had defined “miraculous”, but was still quite weak and needed rest. Harry hoped that a Hershey bar would lift his spirits a bit, and distract him from his desperate need to mother everything and anything that breathed. They should probably have him infiltrate the German troops, he’d have them tucked up in bed by 2100 sharp, and no sneaking out to invade Poland, is that clear Adolf?

Harry walked softly, making no noise in case Lip was asleep. As he got close to the flimsy door, he realised that Lip wasn’t asleep, and was in fact talking with none other than Speirs.

“- if you die, what good would you be to the boys?” Speirs was saying, with an exasperated tone that indicated that they had had this discussion a few times already.

“There’s no other second lieutenant, Ron. If I don’t take care of my duties, nobody else will, and the boys will go without supplies.”

“Car- you seriously think so little of the other officers that we’d let Easy starve?” There was an obvious subtext there- do you think so little of me?

“No!” Lip’s exclamation was scandalized and filled with frustration. “No, I don’t. But you all have so much to do already. You shouldn’t be doing my job on top of yours.”

“You’re talking as if you were purposefully slacking, Car. You aren’t. You are sick, you didn’t want this, and nobody thinks any less of you because of it.” Speirs’ tone was getting increasingly frustrated.

“But I can’t-”

 “No, I can’t, Car!” Speirs’ voice rose a little before the captain brought it back down. “I can’t stand the thought of you grinding yourself to the nub. I’m scared, Car, for the first time I’m truly scared in this goddamn war because I’ve got something to lose,” he said, and Harry was surprised to hear him admit such a thing. Hearing Captain Ronald “Killer” Speirs so vulnerable, admitting to his fear so openly with a voice raw with emotion, was something Harry had never even dreamed could happen, not in a million years. It must have cost him a lot to admit it.

“It’s hard enough that I have to send you into action knowing that you could die, but I can accept that because it’s out of our control. I can’t accept the thought of losing you to a pneumonia relapse, not when it can be avoided by you simply resting a bit!” Harry had never heard Speirs talk so passionately.

There was a rustle of cloth, and a muffled sob- they had probably embraced, seeking the comfort of touch and closeness in the very real solidity of each other’s body.

“Please, Car. Please. Do your best to live- I just can’t bear it,” murmured Speirs.

There could be no doubt left that the love between them was the real deal and not something wrong or twisted, not after hearing the pain in Speirs’ voice at the thought of losing his lover. It couldn’t be wrong, not when it could give back humanity to a man like Ronald Speirs, giving him something not only to die for, but to live for, which was much, much more important.    

 “Oh, Ron…” said Lip in a voice that was heartbreakingly tender, and Harry decided that it was time to go. He suddenly felt ashamed, as dirty as if he had spied on them having sex- no, not having sex, he amended. They would make love. He shouldn’t have eavesdropped. It had been a moment of deep intimacy between the two men, not only of the body but of the soul, and he couldn’t bear to spy on something so pure for a moment longer. Even though he had to admit that he was glad to know that there was something that had remained pure and unsullied despite the war.

It was a week later or so, when he heard Luz talking about how quickly Lip had bounced back from pneumonia.

“Couldn’t bear the thought of us boys being without their Mama Lip, especially now that he’s got Papa Speirs to take care of him,” he said wisely, and his audience nodded solemnly, unanimously agreeing that Lip and Speirs were a package deal as much as Dick and Nix were.

He knew then, with certainty, that Speirs and Lip belonged to each other the same way Nixon and Winters did.

Of all the things he had expected to change during the war, his perspective on homosexuality hadn’t been one, but he solidly counted it among the few, positive things to come out of that particular bloodbath. When Dick announced at the end of the war that he had decided to accept the job offer at Nixon Nitration, and Speirs that he would go to West Virginia “to see what opportunities I can find there,” Harry felt happy for them.

They belonged together, and they would stay together. Maybe there was some justice, in this world.

[comrade-meow]

Capitalism, the New, New Left and the Gender Industry

“Inclusivity is more than a social cause, it’s a business opportunity.  It’s time to maximize your business growth.”

 - dmi Consulting

Let me get this out of the way, because it seems more than a few people still need to hear this.  

CORPORATIONS DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOU!

“Diversity and inclusion ”(D&I) comprise a new business mantra.  Programs and language, based on the normalization of body dissociation, are being corporately cultivated, around the world. The programs being instituted appeal to our emotions, to entice us to believe that companies care about people and just want to create one big happy, diverse, work-family, which include marginalized sectors of society - most importantly, those who imagine they have a sex (gender is a euphemism) that is not male or female.  The overlooked are finally being given a place at the table!

Or are they?

The new, new liberal left in America, the left that has emerged out of a traditional new left, which cared about the working class, blacks and women’s rights, who yearned for a more equal and just social order, is unrecognizable to many of us who’ve long been of the traditional left.  That left, just a decade ago, sparked a potentially revolutionary movement on Wall street, calling out the financial industry and the monopolies ruining our lives and our planet.  Emerging out of the carcass of that potentially revolutionary movement, is a left that has recently climbed into bed with those same big banks.  Snuggled up in bed with them, fluffing their pillows, are Big Pharma and Big Tech.  The left, are running around screaming at protests, get wide media coverage, voices in our universities and institutions, crying that people claiming their sex is not male or female, need human rights.  These manufactured sexes are being supported by, promoted by, and advertised by Big Pharma, Big Tech and Big Banking.  This new, unrecognizable left sees no irony at all in their behavior.  

These purported new sexes, ostensibly requiring special human rights, depend on a narrative that sexual dimorphism isn’t real, that it exists on a spectrum of sexes.  This is the gender industry and with projected profit margins reaching into the billions by 2026, for surgeries on healthy sex organs alone, and the amount of advertising curated to sell it, it is going to be very profitable indeed.

How has the left been so duped about new markets being manifested out of sex, that they scream liberation every time someone dares to mention the glaring inconsistency of human rights for corporate profiteering off of young adults and children’s bodies?

The left knows corporations do not care about the color of our skin, whether we are oppressed because of said color of our skin, whether we live in an igloo or a cardboard box, whether the icebergs are melting, or whether Fukushima nuclear plant is dumping millions of tons  of radioactive waste into the oceans, externalizing the cost of doing business.  How do they not understand that corporations do not give a fu*k about anybody’s identity?  Unless those identities are opening markets.  

The constant business-woke-posing (D&I), for Black Lives Matter (BLM), the LGBT Inc, and the often, corporate mixing of both under the “Black Trans Lives Matter” slogan, is about profit. Every little advertising slogan, every word, is carefully selected to appeal to an ever-increasing fragmentation of humanity, into subcategories, to be marketed to.  It is all about the corporate bottom line.  If they can convince us that the disembodiment movement of “gender identity” is akin to the civil rights movement for black Americans, or has anything at all to do with LGB, they’ve roped us into their narrative of care.  Further, if they can convince more black Americans of their insane narrative of disembodiment-as-progress, it supports the illusion they are selling to all of us. Fortunately, that isn’t going well, so far.  Despite their efforts to corral black youth, and the relentless corporate propaganda aimed at them, black youth are not crying about their “gender identities” or clamoring for cross sex hormones.  

The left knows corporations don’t care.  The working class knows this.  It’s why the Occupy Wall Street movement evolved so quickly.  I was there,  a decade ago, at ground zero, with 40,000 people from every walk of life, as we traversed the Brooklyn Bridge, in protest of the choke hold the financial sector had on us.  Now these same people are waving flags in traditional, baby-colored, pink, blue and white, screaming about human emancipation through medical identities, while many sew themselves to the techno-medical complex for life.  

For a concise and readily comprehensible explanation of how capitalism functions, I urge you to examine the work of Stephanie McMillan, a life-long activist and an anti-capitalist.  She explains, in language that is completely accessible, how corporations are set up to compete in the global marketplace:  “To care about people over profits would jeopardize the corporatist’s position within that system, and their own livelihood.” Corporate heads, consist of those with the greatest wealth and depend on an exploited working class not just to function, but to suck wealth upward, from the bottom, creating ever more wealth for a few, leaving the masses at the bottom, with less and less.  This is a worse crisis for women across the world, who, according to UN stats, put in 12.5 billion hours of unpaid care work each day — a contribution to the global economy of at least $10.8 trillion a year. The reporting of these statistics will no longer be a true measure of what is transpiring globally,  since men will be included in the stats for women, under the new corporate gender regime.  

We are living in an oligarchic gulag, one that isn’t very private.  Our communities, as I addressed in an interview last year, are being opened to the acceptance and normalization of a male fetish based on disembodiment, creating a sexual psycho drama of our corporate and civil landscapes, for profit, while literally dismembering people and creating more identities to market to.  

Because we are governed by corporate monopolies, and the billionaires behind them, driving a steady stream of propaganda through our media, we no longer know what fake news is and what is real news.  We don’t know what men and women are (or we pretend not to know to fit in). We don’t know if people on social media or advertising are real or computer generated and our ability to speak about anything outside the corporately generated illusions plaguing us, are being penalized in myriad ways, not the least of which is controlled and censored speech.  Yet suddenly, we are to believe, and many on the new, new liberal left do believe, these monstrous monopolies that have colonized the entire natural world, have suddenly changed their ways and care about people.  They especially care about these new imaginary sexes being manufactured out of philanthropic funding, corporate cash, and the techno-medical complex.

Will Meyer, in a recent issue of Business Insider, gives us a look at the corporate woke hypocrisy, posing as care about the marginalized.   “IBM and Microsoft,” he reports, “claimed they would no longer sell facial recognition software to law enforcement, signaling their alignment with Soros backed, BLM movement, despite the fact both corporations remaining deeply invested in punitive systems that continue to harm Black and brown lives.”  The BLM movement has the same capitalists behind it as the gender industry.

Selling D&I to the public, is such big business, that there are corporations that teach other companies how to market it effectively. This fracturing of humanity, via the colonization of human sex, is how capitalism functions.  It splits everything into smaller and smaller fragments to open markets.  Where we once had a single-family physician to help us heal, we now have a plethora of specialists to treat everything from lung cancer to toenail fungus.  Where we have had a sexually dimorphic species, we now have medical identities that deconstruct sex, being foisted upon us, to open markets.

Those with wealth create more wealth for themselves, while underlings, not having access to wealth, land or goods, are forced to sell their labor for less and less money. The wealth, goods and land are all siphoned off by the corporatists. Well now the corporatists, with little left to extract, have come for human sex and they are not leaving until they have it, or we rise in resistance and reclaim what is left after their ravaging.