#that you have no life and no home and nobody

[caramelkoo]

no questions asked— jjk

Jeon jungkook wants nothing more than to get settled with his girlfriend, but what if her fear of commitment makes him take a step back? Will he do it, or will he be able to changer her mind for good?

pairing : Jungkook X reader

genre : established relationship, smut, fluff

word count : 6.6k (im begging for forgiveness)

Based on this ask <33

warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature, oc is an anxious girly (same), mentions of emotionally unavailable parents, jungkook is a man of dreams, simp boyfriend jungkook, car sex, unprotected sex (be safe), begging, reference of titanic if you squint, yeah that's pretty much it.

a/n : this took million business days lmao but finally it's here. the sweetest anon requested a drabble but i couldn't do it and as much as i tried to make it shorter, it got stretched to 6k words 😭 so im deeply sorry anon. the rest of you who enjoy longer fics, dig in. I love you guys so much, you might not know this but yall are my besties for resties. kisses. 💌

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Your boyfriend is going to propose to you.

Oh god

Oh. my. God.

Anxiety is not a foreign feeling for you. Although this time, it’s an indescribable sort. Something which is lingering in the deepest pit of your stomach for a lack of better word. Besides, there’s a mayhem inside your head, the voices are loud and intimidating, causing you to bite your lip to a point where they bleed while also staring at nothing. 

Jungkook has been nothing but secretive— the poor boy has no idea that you have already seen the navy blue box sitting inside his side of the drawer. You can swear it was totally unintentional.

In your defense, you had been searching for your glasses and that was the only place left to fish around. Nobody could have prepared you for the utter shock when your eyes fell on that box and so for a minute or two you just stood there, horrifyingly still and stunned. However, you recovered quickly, because to be quite honest it was about time one of you mustered up enough courage to ask the question.

It’s supposed to make you thrilled right? So why does something feel… off? 

“Penny for your thoughts?”, as soon as Cherry’s voice reaches your ears, you snap out of it and flash her a forced smile. 

“Yeah-” you begin, “Yeah uh- I’m just thinking about nothing in particular.” 

“_____ you’re an amazing girl but you gotta work on those lying skills.”

A chuckle leaves your mouth. You shouldn’t even have bothered in the first place, the girl can read you like a book. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours huh?” 

She picks up the book before scanning it with the barcode scanner all the while you marvel if you should tell her or just let it go, but then you also know how she would become a pain in the ass if you don’t spill the beans to her. Anyway, she can;t make you overthink it any more than you already have. 

You bite your lower lip before saying, “I feel like Jungkook is going to propose.” 

If looks alone could kill, you would have been buried deep by now with the way the man wearing an olive green cardigan, probably in his 50s, gives you side eye when Cherry drops the book with a loud thud on the counter. 

You wince.

“I’m sorry what?” 

When you subtly signal her to pick what she’s dropped, she takes a hold of the book, apologizes to the man who— you’re hundred percent sure hates your guts now, and resumes her work. 

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Ha! Girl you better start telling me more or none of us are going home today.”

She’s talking to you but her hands keep shuffling between scanning the books and expeditiously typing on the keyboard.

A spark of hesitation finds a way inside your heart. The thing is, you’re not sure. Do you want to marry the love of your life? Absolutely. Do you think you can keep the marriage going and stable? No. 

There you said it.

And that kills you because jeopardising your bond and connection with Jungkook is the last thing you want to do.

Maybe, it’s because nobody in your family has been able to keep their inner spark alive after they had gotten married or you might as well blame it on the relationship your own parents have had before your eyes. 

For everyone who couldn’t see past the walls of your house, your parents were an ideal couple. A pair who were equally efficient and successful in their respective areas of life. With your father being a renowned businessman and your mother holding the title of a world famous fashion designer, they couldn’t have been a better partner for each other, right?

Wrong. Too bad you had the honor of being an onlooker of their facade slipping away before getting replaced by their real impudent selves. 

But that’s all you could do though. You were merely just an audience. Someone who could see everything shatter before her eyes and not do a single thing to put an end to it. 

Constant fights, fuming with jealousy over one of them achieving more than the other, sabotaging each other.

All hell broke loose when they began making you take sides. 

You think mommy is better don’t you, honey?

You should be proud of your dad, ____. You’re living such a luxurious life thanks to me. 

For the love of god you were five. What does a five year old know about luxury or human ego? What could you have possibly known about who is better? In your eyes, they were your mom and dad and not some squish mellows placed side by side from which you had to take your pick. Let’s not even start with the emotional unavailability they provided you with.

A knot lodges in your throat and you struggle to get the words out. “I happen to see the box inside his drawer”

“You’re sure it had a ring inside- Wait, don't answer that”, she shakes her head as if she just asked the most ridiculous question ever.

No shit.

“But that’s a good thing right? I mean you guys have been seeing each other for a while now and marriage is the final stop.” she continues and you can’t help but feel terrible, because she is making sense. 

A sigh leaves you, “Yeah no- I mean yeah it is but I didn’t expect him to take the initiative so suddenly. No hints were dropped at all. Marriage is, gosh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but it seems intimidating to me.” 

The queue has finally dissipated at this point so she faces you fully showcasing her engrossment in your dilemma. The girl feeds off drama but refuses to get involved in one.

Her expression morphs into something between horrified and sympathetic. “_____, is that because of your parents?” 

Your heart skips a beat. This whole time you and only you had authority over this thought that your fear of marriage is deeply rooted in your own parents’ fucked up relationship. A belief that lay sly and unseen.

Only after those words left Cherry’s mouth did you realise how venomous they sound. It makes you aware that the fear was not as concealed as you intended to keep it. What are you supposed to do when you find out that somebody else knows about your deepest terrors? Run? Hide? Or simply not say anything? 

Your mouth feels suddenly dry. “What?” 

Cherry takes a hold of your palm and rubs it gently, “If it is, I want you to know that it’s not the case for everyone. Marriage is a beautiful concept, a lovely commitment. Are there some pitfalls to it? Yes. But that’s the beauty of it. The way two people come together and resolve them-”

Your phone buzzes inside your pocket causing you to flinch. Releasing your hands from her hold, you take it out and see your grandmother’s number stare up at you. 

“I’ll just be back.” you excuse yourself just as a woman places a stack of books on the counter.

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“Hey, beautiful” you greet her, a smile lighting up your entire face.

“My baby, did I catch you at the wrong time?” her voice is like a balm to your heart. So warm and comforting. It reminds you of your movie nights with her where you didn’t have to be anything or pretend. You just had to exist and she made it worth it. Always. 

“Now you know even the devil himself can’t stop me from talking to you.” 

A loud chortle reaches your ears and you imagine her throwing her head back, laughing. 

“I was calling to ask if you and your eye candy of a boyfriend are visiting home this year for thanksgiving, dear?” 

Dear lord, you can’t believe you forgot about that.

Your eyes widen, and just when you think you could bubble up some other lie, she speaks up, “You forgot, didn’t you?” 

Yeah, bold of you to assume you can do that and get away. You actually need to work on your lying skills. For whatever reason. You want to pluck your eyelashes out one by one because of how gloomy she sounds.

“I’m genuinely sorry, grams.” pinching the bridge of your nose you continue, “I’ve just been busy with work and barely making ends meet. I promise this is the first and last time I let it slip my mind.” 

With the job you have, there’s only so much cash you can count and while you would love to make a career out of writing, the thought of publishing your own book sends shivers down your spine.

Every time you open the draft a new mistake pops up, taking a percentage of your self confidence down the drain. You’re only human. A microscopic slip catches your attention and you start questioning your life choices. 

“Honey, come home and give yourself some time off, what do you youngsters like to call it? Oh yes, grind. Yeah?” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Wow someone has been too into love island lately.”

Cherry raises her eyebrows from across the room and you mouth her the word ‘grandma’. She nods with a smile on her face, going back to work. 

A long stretch of silence hangs in the air before you hear her ask, “_____, what else is wrong?” 

The smile which has been adorning your face this whole time instantly drops. You blink.

Once

Twice

Thrice 

“I don’t understand.” Liar.

“You know what I mean, baby. I want you to tell me more, because I know something has been bothering you. What is it?”

Humans are so funny sometimes. They can be as close to you as your own soul and not have a hint of your torment. Meanwhile, there is your grandmother, who despite being so far away from you just….. knew. But again, it has always been like this hasn’t it? 

Whenever you got tired of your parents throwing stuff around the house, making each other lick the floors, trying to make their own and your life a living hell, she knew. 

She was the one who allowed you to cry, and assured you that she would not call you dramatic if she happened to hear your sobs.

You were allowed to cry,

You were allowed to ask for help,

You were allowed to not hold back.

Sucking in a deep breath, you release it, “Everything else is perfect, grams.”

Mr William is always the first person to greet you everyday when you reach the apartment. He’s been working as a guard for years now and you’ve grown quite familiar with him. While being the sweetest man you’ve ever come across, he also brings his wife’s yummiest tarts for you whenever she makes them. Arguably, they deserve more hype than they get.

“She knows how much you love her tarts” he says, making you feel immense gratitude towards his kindness. 

This particular night, he seems…. restless. He’s shifting from one foot to another as you shut the cab’s door behind you. Striding over to him, you mentally try your best to figure out his uneasiness. 

Clearing your throat, your throat as you ask, “Is everything alright, Mr William?” 

Only after he hears your voice, he gains his composure. Or so he tries. 

He hands you a piece of paper which feels a bit wet and you wonder what could have been so intense that the man began having clammy palms.

It’s nearly concerning, not to mention it doesn’t help with your own anxiety at all. If not, shoot it up. 

“Your boyfriend dropped by around lunch time, miss. He handed me this and asked me to give it to you as soon as you come back from work.”

He couldn’t have given it to you yesterday when he was with you in the first place? Weird.

“I see, but why are you so tense? Has something happened?” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “My wife has been sick and I was supposed to leave early but I figured it would be better if I gave it to you safely before going home to her.” 

Fuck

“You could have given this to me later. Your wife comes first, sir.” you gulp, “Please, I appreciate your gesture but she needs you more. Thank you so much and please let me know if I can be of help.”

He releases an empty chuckle. “Thank you, Miss” 

With one last nod you walk inside the building while also hoping he doesn’t call you for help. Not because you won’t do anything it takes to help him, but because you hope it wouldn’t come to it. The moment you shut the apartment door behind and turn on the light, the piece of paper steals your attention. Without waiting any further, you unfold it, coming across Jungkook’s writing. 

The note alone feels like he whispered it into your ear before placing the softest kiss on your skin. Your lips stretch into a serene smile as you stride over to the bedroom, turning the doorknob as your gaze catches a purple bodycon resting on top of your bed. It is accompanied with a bouquet of pink tulips as well as a bar of Dubai chocolate. 

Your head that has been nothing short of a commotion is now finally at peace. Not entirely but at peace nonetheless.

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Jungkook was 12 when he went on his first roller coaster ride. He was, like every other child, afraid. Afraid that he might fall and hurt himself so bad, he wouldn’t ever be able to get up. The roller coaster had a massive drop followed by a corkscrew which took him upside down. Until the moment Jungkook saw a woman in yellow dress buying a bunch of tulips from the flower shop he very often visited, he had never felt his stomach bottom out as strongly as it did during that drop back then.

There she was, chatting with the florist as if they’re best friends. He could see her behind the glass picking out the pink tulips before sniffing them. Meanwhile, Jungkook stood across the road, soaked and enchanted as he wondered if he should ask for her number or chicken out. Eventually, the latter won. 

But here’s the thing, Jungkook is not one for losing. He hates losing, even the term makes him want to peel his own skin off. 

He saw her hair first, becoming curly locks reaching down to her waist and just above her hips. Granted that his line of sight only allowed him to see her side profile, he assumed she was gorgeous. It was not unlikely for him to see beautiful women on a daily basis, but something about her just sucked him in. His eyes could not leave her face and he believed even if they tried, he would pluck them out just to punish them. Was it weird that his hands itched to hold a woman he doesn’t even know? 

What’s her name?

Where does she live?

What’s her favorite color?

How does she like her coffee?

There’s a japanese phrase called koi no yokan which means that you eventually will fall in love with a person you meet. You’re going to grow so fond of that person that you would want to see no one by your side but them. She was that person for him. 

He rubs his hands for the nth time in a futile attempt to warm them up, waiting outside ____’s building. How is this evening going so slow? He has been here for perhaps half an hour now, so why does it feel like it’s been a decade? 

And funnily enough, the only person who can put him out of his misery is _____. At this point, the guy fears he wouldn’t be able to so much as look her in the eye, but not doing that will be the end of him too.

He looks down and lets his hands run over his black button down shirt, wondering if she would like it. She loved seeing him in black on the first date. A loud click clack of heels grab his attention, perking his ears up. He looked up and there she was in all her glory. 

Jungkook releases a breath and rubs his chest as if his heart hurts. As if it’s telling him how unworthy he is of this woman who is walking up to him, who may be as nervous as him but still chose him as her man. 

The woman who could have anyone she wanted wrapped around her pinky finger gave her days, nights and evenings to him. She smiled at him, for him and if he was lucky, because of him.

_____ stops before him while he’s still adjusting to the sight of her. “How do I look?” 

Unreal, exquisite and way out of his league.

He shakes his head from side to side, thinking of a single word that would suffice the answer to that. He fails and so instead he runs his fingers down her forearm until he reaches her soft hands and takes it into his own cold ones. 

Placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles, he begins. “My imagination of you in this dress has got nothing on this vision.” 

Her face morphs into the softest expression of love, “And exactly how many times have you imagined me in this dress, Jeon Jungkook?” 

He takes a step forward, his chest almost touching hers. “I can’t answer that. You want to know why?” 

“Why?” Her voice is emotionless. His thumb grazes her lower lip as he tries not to smudge her nude lipstick. “Because if I do, we’ll have to go back into your apartment and try not to wake your neighbours up.” She swats his chest and softly pushes him back, dissolving into a giggle. 

“You’re looking quite handsome yourself.” she says as her eyes shamelessly check him out. His sleeves are halfway folded stopping just below his elbow, beautifying his tattooed forearms.

He’s also wearing his favorite blue baggy jeans with his usual black chunky boots. The same ones he goes for when he knows _____ might not be able to bear the pain caused by her heels, so he ends up swapping them with the boots.

He would argue carrying her all the way to her apartment instead, but settles elseways. 

Jungkook opens the car door for her and only after she’s well seated, he runs to his side and takes off. 

The ride to the restaurant is quiet despite the obvious tension that doesn't go unnoticed by either him or her. As much as he would like to spend the rest of the night snuggled into bed with her, he knows there is something more significant than that. So instead he indulges in caressing her thigh. 

“After you, angel.” He places a hand on the small of her back. 

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The ambience looks straight out of the movies. Like a paradise. Violinists are playing a chorus of Fuck her gently by Tenacious D far across the room. 

Jungkook catches an unknown look on her face. “Something’s wrong?” 

She shakes her head, flashing him a smile. “I love this song.”

He places a tiny kiss on her temple. “I know, baby. C’mon.” 

You know how women have this killer instinct of knowing if and when somebody’s watching them? It’s like they have a separate pair of googly eyes on the back of their head to protect them from creeps. 

From the moment you have entered the place, the man in the wine shirt has been making a hole in your face with the way he’s been staring at you. 

Is your dress too revealing? Are you showing too much skin?

“Oh I forgot to tell you. Your grandmother called earlier today.” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. 

You gulp down the last piece of steak before answering. “Let me guess she asked you to join her for thanksgiving?” He nods, a bright smile on his face. “I told her I would love to.” 

A cheeky smile unfurls slowly on your face. Jungkook loves your grandmother. Maybe a little bit more than you do. Just a tiny bit though. Last year when you and he visited her, he was the first person apart from you to get a hug out of her.

Your grandma is not much of a hugger by the way. Her hugs are totally exclusive. 

“I’m sure she loves having my ‘eye candy of a boyfriend’ there.” 

Jungkook snorts, placing his fork down. “She called me an eye candy?” 

He dissolves into a fit of laughter when you answer his question with a nod. 

“See now that’s the biggest achievement I have had in a while. I mean what are the odds your wife’s grandma calls your an eye candy-”

Something sours in your stomach. The steak here tastes awful or maybe it’s just you feeling pathetic that as soon as he says ‘wife’ your expression morphs into something so dreadful that it causes him to stop. What are the odds that you just gave him a reality check and dragged him out of a fool’s paradise?

“Angel, what’s-” 

You stand abruptly, cutting him off yet again. His eyes bob all over you, and then a sad frown puckers between his brows. 

“I’ll just be back. I need to use the washroom.” You say as you grab your handbag as quickly as you can before leaving him there. Confused and wondering what the fuck just happened?

Few minutes later, just as you’re walking outside the washroom and making a way towards your table someone’s voice causes you to stop midway. 

“Excuse me.” 

Turning to face the person, you come face to face with the same man from earlier. The one wearing a wine colored shirt along with a nasty expression. You believe he’s trying to look cocky but is failing miserably.

“Can I help you?” 

A slow smile spreads over his mouth. “I couldn’t help but notice that the man you’re here with seems to upset you in some way.”

An awkward chuckle leaves you. “The man is my boyfriend and I don’t think it concerns you if he’s upsetting me or not.” 

He walks a little closer. Oh no, this is bad. 

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, “But clearly he’s not being a good boyfriend, is he?” 

The audacity of this man.

You huff out a frustrated breath, “Listen, you need to shut up and stay within your limits. It’s not healthy going around poking your nose into everyone’s business.” 

His sly smile grows even more as he steps closer than before. 

The hair on your body stands up, and not in a good way, but in a very uncomfortable way. You suddenly regret the idea of leaving Jungkook’s side. Bad, bad decision. 

Currently, you have two options. You can either just walk off and act like nothing happened, which by the way, is a safe option or you can kick the man in the balls and then act like nothing happened.

Since you're much more accustomed to the former option, you decide to do just that but when his hands grip your wrist with an iron grip, you settle on the latter. 

You knee him between the legs with an intention to hurt him as he grunts in pain, his hands gripping where you just kicked him. 

“You fucking bitch.” 

Before he can say anything further, you storm off. Your phone buzzes inside your handbag and you automatically assume it to be Jungkook’s call. As soon as you spot him across the room, you feel the clouds parting, there’s a feeling threatening to arise. It’s something between protected and anguished. 

Anguished because you let your mind speak so deafeningly that it silenced the oh so loud love Jungkook has for you. And protected because you know for a fact that if he had any idea about what that man just did to you, he would not think twice before dragging him by the hair before bringing him to his knees in front of you to apologize. 

He stands once he sees you and you waste no time running towards him. Your arms go around him as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. His arms immediately embracing you in return, securing you against his chest.

It feels warm.

Concern laces his voice as he says, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Breathe” 

You don’t even realise you’re panting unless he says that. You’re aware that at this point the way you flung yourself at him must have got everyone’s attention. But you genuinely don’t care. It might as well be an auditorium full of people watching you hug your boyfriend like an anchor, you just don’t care. 

You realise that’s exactly what Jungkook is. Your anchor. Someone who didn’t even ask as to what happened before he straight away began consoling you. 

His hand envelops the back of your head in a protective way while the other soothes your back. 

“Do you want to leave? We can leave right now if you want to.”

“Yes, please.”

His body shakes as though he just nodded. “All right, let me pay real quick and we’ll leave yeah?”

Your voice is muffled against his chest. “Yeah.”

You suck in a sharp breath as he lets you go. The small folder on the table grabs your attention. He opens it only to find a note inside of it saying— “It’s on me, gorgeous”. 

You can see the wheels in his mind turning, but before he starts asking you any questions which may or may not cause a breakdown of yours, you say, “I’ll explain it to you outside. Can we please go?” 

“Let me see wh-”

“Please?” He lets out a defeated sigh and nods. “Yeah- Yeah let’s go.” 

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At first when Jungkook saw that note, the first emotion that he felt was rage and a very serious one at that. But it was soon replaced by realization. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out that something nasty went down after _____ left to use the washroom. Something he can’t wait to get to the bottom of. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her to be pressured to answer the more obvious question. 

Jungkook’s girl is attractive. She’s kind and empathetic and fucking stunning which makes her worthy of all the attention she gets. Of course men are going to want to be with her. 

Initially, it bothered him. A lot. 

Now, though? He’s grown rather used to it. However, it has never come to having someone pay for her in a restaurant. Even the thought of someone so much as speaking to her in an inhumanely manner makes him want to punch a hole through a wall. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The silence is too loud inside the car. He can hear ____’s heart beating loudly or is it his own?

She’s leaning back with her head against the headrest. When she doesn’t respond, Jungkook speaks again, “_____ baby, will you please at least look at me?” 

Her eyes connect with his and he flashes her the softest of smiles.

Taking her hand, he kisses the inside of her wrist where he can feel her pulse. 

Thump thump thump. 

“I want you to give me something, angel. Anything.” 

He can see her gulp before admitting, “There was um… there was a guy outside the washroom and he kind of tried to force himself on me,” she closes her eyes for a brief moment, “Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but I handled him.” 

Jungkook’s stomach drops. He was right. His hands fly out to open the car door before _____ holds him back. “Don’t. I said I handled it.”

He turns back, his voice leaking with anger along with something more barbaric. “And I’m proud that you did, but if I don’t go in and beat that asshole into a new one I won’t be able to call myself a man worthy of you anymore. I need him to know that he can’t fuck with my girl and go about his goddamn day.” “Jungkook, please. I can’t take it anymore. Please stop.” 

And he does. For now. 

He leans back, running his hands over his face with frustration. For a few minutes he and ____ just stare outside the front glass of the car. The parking lot slowly gets empty as people leave for their homes one by one. 

Just when he thinks  _____ has dozed off, her voice reaches him. “Can I get one more hug?” 

“Come here.” 

He takes her into a warm embrace before kissing the top of her head, settling his lips there. His anger has yet not fully dissipated, but having her so close calms his heart. It calms his whole being. Her touch, her breath against his skin, her presence heals something in him.

Therefore, he made up his mind about spending his whole life with her. The little slip of words, which by the way was totally unintentional, soured _____'s expression and that didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

She’s scared but he fully intends to let her know that she doesn’t have to.

______ unwraps herself from his arms and pushes back. Just enough for their noses to touch.

She shakes her head, “Don’t give me those eyes.” 

Jungkook holds back a smile. “What eyes, angel?” 

“The same ones you give me when you want something dirty to happen. Those big brown eyes of yours.”

He lets a chuckle slip out. “I’m down if you are.” 

When she offers him her own laugh, gosh it’s as though he comes alive. If he could bottle up the sound, he would. Something passes in _____’s eyes. Lust? Desire? He can’t pinpoint. 

He wants to kiss the hell out of her though and he wants to do it desperately. Her eyes drop to his mouth and he takes it as a sign to lean forward and press his mouth against hers. 

Her lips part ever so slightly followed by her gripping Jungkook’s collar to bring him even closer. So close as if she wants their souls to intertwine. 

The feeling is very much mutual. 

She gets up from the passenger’s seat without breaking the kiss and straddles his lap. Her legs on either side of his thigh as their core’s touch. Jungkook is not sure how long he can endure this sweet pain of waiting. 

In all sincerity, he’s been holding himself back from the very moment he saw her walking up to him in that dress. Do with that information what you will. 

Now, he just wants to say fuck it and get inside her— only that he can’t, because he wants her to take her time and ask for it. Then and then only he will fuck her. If it’s inside this car then so be it. 

The kiss is electric and filled with passion, tingling his skin in all the right places as she matches his enthusiasm with her own.

______ pulls back with a deep breath, leaving Jungkook panting heavily. 

“Please.” she begs. 

A strand of hair falls on her face. He tucks it behind her ear. “Please what baby?” 

“Please fuck me, Jungkook. I want you so bad and I want you right now.” she whines.

He grins. “At your service, ma’am.” 

He hears _____’s light chuckle as he gets out of the car, carrying her with him while also making sure she doesn’t hit her head on the hood. She detaches herself from him once they’re out and settles in the back seat. Only after ensuring she’s comfortable enough, Jungkook follows her. 

His body lays on top of her and he wastes no time as their mouths collide. Her finger grip the hair on his nape and he groans with pleasure, his cock going thick. He rubs it on her lower stomach to show her how much he wants her, gaining a moan out of her. 

Jungkook’s head goes fuzzy with every passing second. He almost comes when she lifts her hips up and rubs a slow circle against his cock. 

“Fuck.” He groans, pulling back from the kiss. _____’s cheeks are heated and lips are swollen. He did that. Her man did that. 

Suddenly, he’s grateful for the tinted glass and his big car. 

_____ lifts her head up and kisses his sweaty cheek, swiping his forehead with her palm. “You’re sweating, honey.” 

“Yeah, I tend to do that in your presence. Do you know how hard it was for me to stay sane after seeing you look so unbelievably gorgeous?” 

She passes him a lazy smile, “You’ve always been so good at controlling yourself, haven’t you?” 

“Not anymore.” He sits up, knees on either side of her body and starts unbuckling his belt all the while panting with excitement. His pants slide halfway down letting his cock spring free. Thick, angry and leaking with precum. His shirt goes next.

______’s eyes flash with lust as she bites her lower lip. The straps of her dress have slipped down, leaving her tits bare and open for Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.” he leans forward as she runs a hand up his bare spine, hooking her legs over his hip.

“Please.” she whispers. 

A loud thunder outside the car grabs Jungkook’s attention. Nice, he’s so horny he didn’t even realise that it’s raining. Another rumble of thunder drowns their panting breath but he still only focuses on the woman beneath him. The goddess of a woman who trusts him with her body. How lucky he is to call her his own. 

She brushes his hair out of his face, her thumb dusting over the mole on the bridge of his nose before her hand follows the path of his tattooed arm, his rib, his ass, until she wraps a fist around his dick. 

He pushes into her hand. “I need to grab the condoms from the console, angel.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, the car filling with the pants and whimpers before she says, “I want you bare. I’m on the pill.” 

Jungkook has never gone without condom nor has he considered going without one, but this woman right here just asked him to get inside her bare and fuck if it doesn’t tempt him.

And so he gives in, but not before asking, “Are you sure?” 

“As sure as one can be.” 

He nods, bringing his lips back to hers. His hand finds her thong under the dress as he slides it down her legs. Then he strokes a single line up and down her slit, wetting his finger with her cum. When he brings the same finger to his mouth and sucks on it, _____ all but whimpers. 

His cock follows next and he does the same with it, rubbing himself up and down her slit as he coats himself in her before he presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, curls his hips forward, and pushes into her. 

Tortuously slowly, inch by fucking inch. 

She’s so warm and tight for him. He’s not sure how long he can take before he shoots his load inside of her. 

“More.” she pleads, her face morphing into the most beautiful expression of pleasure. 

Jungkook pulls back and pushes again, watching more of a length disappear inside of her. He’s not even halfway in and she’s already crying out his name. 

Leaning in, he bites her neck in an attempt to give her his all. All his love, all his nights and all his life. The question is at the tip of his tongue but considering what happened inside, he quickly holds himself back. 

“You’re doing so good for me, my angel. Taking me so well,” He thrusts again. “You’re made for me, aren’t you?” 

She cries out. 

“What was that?” She throws her head back. “Yes. Oh my god” 

Thrust. “Yes, what baby? I’m gonna need you to say it.” 

Jungkook takes her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it until she cries out again, “I’m made for you. Fuck.”

He releases the nipple with a loud pop. “That’s right you are.” His pelvic bone is flush with hers, ____’s legs as wide as possible to accommodate him. She dusts her fingertips up and down his spine while he slowly kisses along her jaw.

When she pushes her heels into his ass, urging him to move, he pulls out part way before pushing back in again. 

She lets out a moan quickly followed by his own. _____’s hands run over Jungkook’s abs, nipples, and wrap around his shoulders. 

He’s fucking her slowly, taking his time, feeling her body and letting her feel his too. Every brush, every graze, every breath is precious to him.

Soft and intimate. 

So when the next words leave Jungkook’s mouth, he blames it on the moment. “Marry me.”

_____’s eyes which were closed earlier, savoring the very moment, pop open and his movement halts. 

“What?” 

“Fuck. Okay, I know this is not a position or place a woman wants to be proposed in, but I have to say this before I go insane. _____, I know you’re scared and I also know the reason behind it. Of course, I won’t ask you why you kept that part a secret from me, because I respect you and want you to take your time. But baby,” he brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, “I need you to know that I will die before I let anything like that go down between us. I love you so much you don’t even realise. Sometimes I even shock myself with how much I cherish you. You’re a gift to me, a gift which brings out the best not just in me but in everyone she meets.”

He places a small kiss on her forehead before continuing, “I can go anywhere, see everything but it still wouldn’t match the level of affection I hold for you in my heart. Still wouldn’t match the beauty of your smile, you amazing woman. You’re all I have ever wanted. So please, make me the happiest motherfucker in the world by saying ye-”

“Yes” 

‘What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you. Now will you please shut up fuck me like you promised, husband?” 

He bites her jaw, “Oh, I’ll fuck you so nice you’ll be begging for more, wife.”

Soon enough, _____’s lower lip trembles as her orgasm takes over, and he has the privilege to watch it all. The fluttering of her lashes, the marks of her nail down his arm and the way she calls him her husband again when she’s able to find her words. 

He’s so gone.

About half an hour later when he asks her again as to what changed her mind about marriage, she says something so deep yet in such a casual way, he wants to cry. 

“When I hugged you inside, you didn’t ask questions. You just let me be and that may seem like a miniscule thing for someone else, but for me it was enough. Enough to stay with you until I turn all wrinkly and grey haired.” 

[v4mpvelocity]

HWANG IN-HO X READER NSFW HEADCANNONS

pairing: Hwang In-Ho X female reader

SMUT MDNI

A/N wrote this half asleep i just woke up from a nap XD

Hwang In-Ho, the man behind everything yet so good at deceiving you all. Presenting as a reliable friendly man, so naturally when you met him for the first time, it wasn't long until you took to him. His manipulative nature making it very easy to seem a friendly approachable person and not a man behind the mass murdering of struggling and vulnerable people.

Hwang In-Ho, the man who noticed you just as you noticed him, wishing you could have met under different circumstances. You had been put on a team with him during six legs, chosen to play gongii. Failing two times in a row, you began to panic, tears threatening to spill, hand shaking. In-ho or 'Young-Il' as he told you his name was placed a hand on your shoulder. His words seeming much more intimate than they were.

'Just focus.....thats it just breathe' or 'Just play as if this is normal circumstances, you've got this okay?'

Hwang In-Ho, the man who you owed your life to and the man who believed in you when you didn't even believe in yourself. Without hid encouragements, you and the rest of the team would have surely died. Your face plagues his mind, your youthful features contorted in a mix of fear and frustration. It made his cock twitch in his pants, you looked so adorable, scared for your life.

Hwang In-Ho, the man who manipulated you into seeing him as a figure of trust, coming to him when things went wrong, or you were bawling your eyes out wanting to go home. He swore he could've just dragged you to the bathroom and fucked your brains out when you revealed you were only 21, a whole two decades younger than him. That turned him on more than it should of.

Hwang In-Ho, the man who makes you believe he is the only one that you can trust, then has you taken to his private bedroom in the games. The announcement ‘player 267’ was eliminated echoed throughout the arena, he had faked your death all so he could have you all to himself.

Hwang In-ho, the man who has you face down ass up on the bed and he pounds into you at an animalistic pace, his hand on the back of your neck forcing your face into the mattress, muffling your whines and whimpers. The sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the room at a frenzied pace.

Hwang In-Ho, the man who strives to bring you to tears on his cock, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you as if it were his only life goal. Your overstimulated pussy clenching and twitching around his cock, a white ring of your release gathering at the base of his cock.

‘you gonna cum again honey? shh…shh yeah you can…just take it c’mon…let go’ or ‘you can take it…that’s it…cum on my fucking cock..goood girl’

Hwang In-Ho, the man who forces you to watch yourself fall apart in the reflection of the mirror. Your fucked our expression staring back at you, eyes hazy and half closed, tear stained cheeks and drool covering your chin. You looked pathetic, but In-Ho loved it. He loved the fact he had reduced you to a mess with just his body.

‘look at you…so fucking ruined for my cock hm? oh yeah…feels so good hm?’ or ‘watch yourself while i ruin this tight fucking pussy….fuck’

Hwang In-Ho, the man who claimed you and made you believe you were ruined anyone else, holding your fucked out body close as he pet your hair. A stark difference to how rough he had been with you just moments before. Soothing the damage he had caused with sweet words and soft touches. He’s the only one who can protect you, right?

‘this is where you belong ok? with me…only i can love you like this’ or ‘nobody can love you like i love you….okay honey?’

[ooooo-mcyt]

I will never stop thinking about the dynamic between Scott and Jimmy in Third Life.

People love to act like one of them (usually scott) was toxic, but imo the (more interesting) reality is that they just wanted very different things.

Jimmy, undoubtedly, cared about Scott and their life together. But Jimmy- despite his reputation for being pathetic/naive/whatever other inaccurate exaggeration- is a very bold, ambitious, and prideful person. Jimmy wanted to make a reputation, a profit, a statement- you name it, Jimmy wanted it. Jimmy burned with the desire to be someone, and he pursued that. On many occasions, Jimmy felt like Scott was holding him back or didn't believe in/support him enough. Jimmy could never shake the thought that Scott believed he was too weak, and grew to resent Scott's devotion to diplomacy, viewing it as stifling and cowardly.

Scott, on the other hand, never wanted anything but Jimmy. Everything Scott did during Third Life was to keep them and their home safe. I fully believe that Scott would have been perfectly content to stay in their valley and just have a life with Jimmy. And naturally, Scott struggled to understand why Jimmy kept trying to throw that away, why Jimmy kept putting himself and their lives in danger, over and over. Scott was deeply scared by Jimmy's 'reckless' behavior, and sometimes he was harsh because of it, though he often was the one to give in for the sake of peace between them. They went to war against Dogwarts, in the end, and they died there.

Neither of them were bad or wrong. They struggled to communicate, maybe- multiple of their arguments would end with Jimmy shelving it, leaving to work on something else and neither of them even bringing it up again with Scott silently deciding to let Jimmy have his way- and didn't really understand the other. But neither of them had "bad" desires, and neither of them were "toxic" toward the other- they loved each other, despite it all, until they died- in any major way.

They just wanted very different things, irreconcilably, in a way that was always going to end up with at least one of them getting hurt, no matter how much they tried to avoid it. Especially in circumstances as brutal as a death game.

Sometimes nobody's the bad guy, sometimes you're just different people in an unkind world.

[naburi]

MY TEAMMATE’S DAUGHTER

SANA X READER

TAGS: DADDY KINK

2.7K WORDS

“There she is! Look at my daughter!” Your teammate points in the stand. He found out that he had an illegitimate child, now a beautiful young woman. He pays her visits occasionally and brings her every game to make up for the time he missed, not knowing that his daughter is already receiving the attention that she needs. “F-fuck me harder daddy!” Sana’s plea echoes through your room.

“You’re such a slut.” You said while you slapped her ass. You are holding Sana by her thin arms as you pound her from behind. Her thin body shakes in every impact. “You want harder?” You said as you tighten your grip in her arms to pound her with more force. You take a pause after pulling it out just to ram your cock again in her now messy wet slit. The sound of her juicy slit getting pounded, the sound of flesh colliding as your hips bumps her meaty ass, Sana’s whales of pleasure. These noise made you fuck your slut even more.

Driving back home, a few notifications pop out on your phone screen. You just know they are from the fans that want to congratulate you after a win. You have no idea that one of those fans will change your life overnight. Finally arrived at your home. You went straight to bed to get some needed rest. Scrolling through the notifications bubble, you notice a familiar display photo, but you didn’t mind it as you thought that you probably saw them in the stadium. You are grateful to receive some encouraging messages from your fans, thus you take your time to read each and every message. After opening the first few bubbles, this notification bubble led you to an instagram story that mentioned you. It’s a picture of you and two of your teammates. “Hold on, is this her daughter?” You said as you went to check her account. You saw some of her posts where she is in the game. “That’s why she mentioned me, I’m with her father in the photo.” You concluded. Sana is laying in her room, waiting for you to notice her story. She smiles as it notifies her that you give it a like.

The next game is concluded in a loss, the locker room is silent. It’s an unspoken rule that nobody should go out or have fun at night after a loss. You went straight home. you quickly drove home to get this night. Fewer notifications pop in your phone. You 're not expecting any good messages with how you lost this game. You saw the name of the daughter of your teammate again in your notification bubbles. You click on it first which brings you to an instagram story again. This time it’s a video of you with a caption “great play!” Attached with your mentioned name. You appreciate her compliment and contemplate if you should send her a message. Thinking about it for a minute, you settle in giving it a like again. Scrolling through the other bubbles, a new notification pops up. Sana followed you on instagram and sent you a direct message. “Hi! You did your best! Let’s win the next one!” You left a chuckle while reading her message. You haven’t heard her voice before but you read it like someone is cheering you on. “Thank you! Father played well today as well!” You responded to her. After sending the message, I saw that she had already seen it. It means she’s waiting for your message all along. “He’s a good player just like you! I want to meet you in person!” She sent another message but you were too tired to look at it. You toss your phone to the side before falling asleep.

You drove to the stadium for an early game today. Walking at the facility, it’s strange that you have not met anybody from your team yet. You continue to look for anyone in your team as you hear a noise coming out of one of the rooms. The whole team and staff are here and they are circling around a woman? “Your daughter is so pretty!”,”this can’t be your kid, she doesn’t look like you!”,”she’s too gorgeous to be your daughter!” The whole team is making fun of her father. Sana is standing on the other side, just smiling with the jokes. Her brunette hair shines from the sunlight behind her. Her silky white skin glows brighter than the light itself. Your teammates take turns shaking the woman before going out to the dugout. As more people leave the room, Sana finally caught a glimpse of you. Her innocent smile widens just enough that it looks seductive. It’s your turn for a handshake. You reach out your hand for sana to hold. Her slim fingers touch the back of your hand, her soft hands graces on your skin so slowly that it gives you chills. Her small hands look small compared to yours. She holds your hand a little longer than the others. “Goodluck!” She said while tightening her grip before finally letting your hands go. This is the first time you heard her voice. It didn’t help that her seductive smile didn’t go away when she held you. You won this game, the coach invited the team to celebrate this win with liquor. Some of your teammates are joking that they should also invite Sana with them but her father and some of the other players say that it should be a team only celebration. It’s still early in the night but you and some of your teammates excuse yourselves to go home to take an early rest.

Driving back home, your phone started to pop off with notifications again. You smile expecting a mentioned story or a message from Sana again. You sit on the sofa before you check your phone. You were baffled that no notification is from Sana. Checking your conversation, you saw that you haven’t responded to her message last night. “Should I message her?” You asked yourself. Sana has been putting you in a story in every game but today. You want to know the reason why you haven’t heard from her today thus finding yourself being the one to message her first. “It’s nice to meet you up close.” You said in your chat. Sana usually responds right away. It’s been 10 minutes now and she still has not read your message. You started to worry that you might have done something wrong that made the woman step away from you.

It’s past 10 pm, and a series of notifications wakes you up. You found yourself sleeping on your sofa, waiting for a response from Sana. You hurriedly sat up as you saw the new notification bubbles. “Hi! I grabbed drinks with a friend!” She said while also sending a picture. It’s a picture of her with her drink beside a drawing on the wall. You may get the hint but you act oblivious. “Have you made it home? Stay safe.” You responded. You are finally at ease knowing that she’s just busy. “Thank you, I’m walking with my friend on the way home. We are just a few houses apart from where she lived.” She quickly responded. “Let’s grab a drink some other time as well :)” she added with a smiling expression. The idea of going out with Sana excites you but the realization that her father might take it the wrong way holds you back. you don’t want to create any distraction with the team. “Your father might have found out,” you responded. “We can grab some drinks and spend some time in your house,” she suggested. You don’t like where this is heading, you know what will happen if the two of you are left alone in your home. “No one will find out” you said to yourself before agreeing with Sana. “Meet me after the game on Friday” you said to her.

In the locker room, the players are doing their pre-game routine and changing clothes. Sana is off your mind as you are focused on winning against your rival team. She didn’t leave your mind that long enough as you saw the woman standing outside of the locker room door. Sana is wearing less than what you are accustomed to. She usually is in jeans while paring it to your team's jersey. The locker room got quiet as they were too stunned with how attractive she is. The woman is wearing a small skirt that exposes her long lean legs paired with a tight folder jersey that shows her midriff. She walked inside the locker room to hand something to her father. She said it’s for good luck as she knows that this game means more as it is against your historically rival team. Sana gives you a long glance with a smirk on her face before she walks out. You both knew that she was not there for her father. She’s in there to give a glimpse of what you will see more tonight.

The game ended in a victory. Your coach invited the whole team to celebrate but you politely declined this one as you said you have a date. Your teammates are making fun of you that what you meant is really that you are going to hook up with someone tonight. It is not further from the truth as your mind gets clouded by how seductive Sana looks at you and how inviting her outfit is. You hurriedly walk your way out of the stadium. You tried to call your date for tonight but you were surprised that she is already in front of your car, waiting for you. “What if someone saw you?”,”I’ll just say I’m looking for my father.” She smirked at you. You look around to see if any player or staff saw the two of you but it seems like they are still inside. “How did you know which one is my car?” You asked in disbelief. Sana just gives you a wide smile. You guide her to the passenger seat and open the door for her. She thanked you as she sat inside.

You drove off to the nearest convenient store to grab drinks and some snacks. Sana is waiting in the car while you buy those items in the store. After returning to your seat. You felt her slim fingers wander on your pants. “What took you so long?” Sana’s voice changed. Her voice became higher pitched than usual, almost acting like a baby that’s waiting for her food. Her left hand is now moving up and downward on top of your forming bulge. You have not said anything as you don’t know how to react to her fast advancement. “I want to feel you now, Daddy,” her voice changed again. From a baby-like voice to a slow and alluring voice. Something clicked into you when she called you “Daddy.” It woke up your instinct for sex. Sana noticed this too as she felt how hard you got just by hearing that. Sana smiled and didn't leave her face as she knows that she will get what she came for. The two of you have now arrived at your home. You bring down the drinks and snacks to a small table in your living room. You sit on your sofa as you are about to open the drinks but Sana has other plans.

“I’ve waited long enough, daddy.” Sana unzips your pants down to your ankles. She smiles when she sees your cock begging to be let out on your underwear. She pulls your underwear slowly as she wants to see it spring back up in total hardness which she saw when she finally let your hard cock out. Sana gives your hard cock a few strokes before she measures it with her forearm. “It’s bigger than my forearm!” Her thin forearm has no match with the girth of your cock. You chuckled as even in this situation she can still look as cute and innocent as ever. Sana laughs with you before she holds your cock and pat her face with it. She let your cock rest on her face. Your hard cock is resting beside her sharp nose bridge, your shaft is on top of her left cheek while she closes one of her eyes as your cock is covering half of her face with your tip on her forehead. Sana smiles as she gets turned on by feeling your big cock on her soft face. She holds your cock again to now pat her tongue with it. She gives the tip a few licks before trying to swallow all of your cock in one go. You groan as your cock is not even lubricated enough for a deepthroat. You can feel her soft inside as she slowly swallows all of your cock. Her sharp nose touches your abdomen before she pulls her head back. Sana gasped some air as she left a chuckle. “You have a big dick, daddy.” She smiles again with her eyes widening from excitement.

You had enough of her gimmicks, you know what she came for and you will give her exact what she wants. You hold Sana’s brown hair in a makeshift pigtail to have something to hold on. Sana even opens her mouth wide as she waits for your movement. You bring down her face again, impaling her mouth with your hard cock. Gagging sounds come out every time you put all of your cock in her mouth but she didn’t care. Sana let you use her mouth for your pleasure. You stand up to give yourself a better angle. You know moving your hips to meet her face every time. Sana looks up at you with tears flowing down her eyes. You fasten your face until Sana’s face turns red due to lack of oxygen. You get worried for a bit as you pause to check on her. She coughs when you finally let go of her face. “Why didn’t you tap out?” You asked. “I want my daddy to use me just as he pleases” Sana gives you a wicked smile even in her messed up face.

You carry Sana to your room, she wraps her legs onto you while she kisses your neck before you carry her down to your bed. You unbutton her small skirt and tossed it on the other end of the room. Sana tried to fasten the process by pulling her underwear on her own but you caught her hand. “Someone is being inpatient.” You said while removing her hand on her underwear. “S-sorry, daddy” she said. You eventually remove her underwear. “Fuck me please, daddy.” “Fuck me now,” she continues to plead before you hold her cheeks to open her mouth. You put her underwear inside her mouth as a consequence of her impatience. You aligned your hard cock on her wet lips before slowly plunging it in. Sana's loud moans are muffled by the underwear inside her mouth. You can feel how her slit stretched out due to your girthy cock. You hold her by her thin legs and start your movement. Sana's muffled moans are still loud. She tried to remove her top while you're on top of her but you slap her hands away. “What did I tell you about being inpatient?” You shouted at her. Sana got turned on with how aggressive you're becoming. You pull up her folded jersey top and her bra in one go, exposing her perky boobs. You slapped her boobs with force until red marks appeared. You squeezed her boobs to hold onto it while you continue to fuck her. Sana can’t take it anymore. She removes her underwear in her mouth and starts to plead more. “Fuck me just like that, daddy!” She shouted as her body arched back in pleasure. “You like getting fucked like a slut?” You shouted back. “Yes! Yes! Fuck me! I’m your slut!” She said before she left out a loud moan. You pulled out your cock and instructed her to bend down. Sana quickly obliged and even spread her ass cheeks in front of you. You hold her thin arms as you continue to plunge your cock inside her again. “F-fuck me harder, daddy!”

[blingblong55]

The art of touch- Simon "Ghost" Riley

--- F!Reader, fluff, friends to lovers, soft!simon --- A/N: I can't see the old requests for some reason so enjoy this mess I made in the meantime

Simon is a quiet man. He's calm and collected—truly the man that most soldiers wish to be. He has confidence on and off the field. There are so many things that he is, but being insecure or nervous about anything off the field or base is not something he can say he has. When he met you, you weren't looking for anything but a friendship. So, it stung to know that the most beautiful girl he had ever seen didn't fancy a date with him. But, like anything in his life, he accepted it, in a "I'm going to get you anyway" kind of way.

It started with him trying to get you to at least say yes to lunch. Something that friends do. Which is normal, totally not a date in his mind. Will definitely tell everyone else that he went on a date though. When the "dates" became frequent, he made sure to invite you to dinner after he had helped you move into the home you bought.

His volunteering to be your handyman was normal by now. He wants to be part of your life in any way you offer. You need to drive an hour away, no problem, he has nothing to do that weekend so he can drive you there. It's not like he doesn't have paperwork waiting for him in his office. He'll complain about it later, but never to your face because he wants to become reliable.

It was something slow, so painfully slow even for him but fuck it, he was very much interested in you. So interested that he forgot about the pretty girls he would occasionally sleep with when he went on missions. He became loyal to the "relationship" you two had in his head. Who needs sex when he has the idea of you and him as a couple?

It was odd, he rarely had pure thoughts when a pretty bird was beside him but with you, he wanted to have them. So he did, he refrained from them and only thought of you for who you are. He could list two hundred things that he loves about you before he lists your body.

For you, keeping him at arm's length was a strategy. Sure he was attractive and all but you wanted something real. Not something that is formed through sex and pleasure. Something that is born of real emotions, something that can be brought up when you get asked where you were when you realised you were in love. The answer should never be in bed

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24  @iruzias  @frazie99  @idklols  @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @juneonhoth  @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien  @Simonssweetgirl  @luvecarson  @willowaftxn83-87  @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii  @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie  @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower  @honestlyhiswife  @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost  @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo  @alexaseeraj @trinthealternate  @azkza  @VampyTheGoth @mariededenie

[a34trgv2]

Writing Tips: How To Build Your World

When it comes to storytelling, the setting is a major component in keeping the audience engaged. It's where the main events of the story take place, where the rules and beliefs are established, and most importantly, where the characters call home. But how to you introduce the audience to this world without making it feel like a tedious lecture? Well, that's what we'll discuss in this post and by the end, I'm confident you'll have a greater appreciation for world building.

A prologue is a very genius way to not only hook the audience but also establish the main themes of the world at the start. Some of the best prologues in fiction are brief, well paced, and engaging enough to make it feel like a necessary and rewatchable part of the story. Take the opening to Iron Man (2008) as an example. Right before the title drops, we're introduced to Tony Stark, where he is, what the big threat it, and why we should care. It was a very clever visual to show that the terrorists that attacked Tony were using weapons made by his company before he got shrapnel lodged into his chest. This makes the conflict in the film more personal to Tony and gets the audience curious like him as to how they got ahold of his weapons and why they kidnapped him. Starting the story with an entertaining prologue is a great way to world build, but as the story continues so too does the world building.

Another great way to world build without stopping the story to a crawl is to incorporate natural dialogue. By that, I mean having the characters converse in the story like they would if this was happening in the real world. Nobody's going to give some info dump on what they can do in real life because that's such a waste of time. Rather, they'd cut to the chase by showing what they can do with a sentence being optional. That's how Knuckles facing off against Sonic in Sonic The Hedgehog 2 went. Natural dialogue is a great way to make the fantastical seem believable. Just look at series like Harry Potter, Kung Fu Panda, Avatar: The Last Airbender, or Steven Universe. They all take place in such fantastical worlds but the characters talk like normal people instead of caricatures to make it all seem believable. They also make the worlds so much fun to explore, which brings me to my next point.

Making the world feel big and lived in is key to getting audiences to want to go on the journey with the characters. By establishing how vast the land is, what kind of people live in it, and what the rules are, you're inviting the audience on a tour of this world you made up and giving them an experience they can't get anywhere else. This is very much the case with Middle Earth from The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. In both the books and the movies, Middle Earth is shown to be their huge land full of vast landscapes, lived in communities, rich history, and gorgeous architecture. This is shown by the characters being taken on a journey through this world and discovering the wonders with the audience. Of course, not every story takes place in a world that's made up by the author. Often times, it takes place in a real city or country; or to burrow a quote from Stan Lee, "a reflection of the world right outside our window." There are many stories that take place (or inspired by) New York City, which each story offering it's own unique perspective on the Big Apple. Marvel's Daredevil depicts Hell's Kitchen as a grimy, crime ridden neighborhood while King Kong (1933) depicts it as this idealistic city that never sleeps. Element City from Elemental is clearly inspired by New York City with it's mix of different cultures coming together to form one big city and Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Time makes NYC in the roaring 20s look like this magical metropolis full of wonderous creatures. With so many different ways to depict New York City, it's not wonder it's such a popular urban settlement for tourists.

World building is such a fascinating part of storytelling that many take for granted. For aspiring writers, it's important to make sure you're doing it well enough and subtle enough so that it's not overbearing to the audience. Proper world building involves getting the audience hooked from the get go, having natural dialogue, and making the world feel lived in and rich in history. Even if it takes place in a real city or country, the world should still be a place you want to explore with the characters. To conclude, I hope you learned how intriguing world building is and how to make you setting come alive.

[deluxewhump]

The Fundraiser

Cameron takes Zee to a fundraiser and someone from Zee’s home state recognizes him. Middle of frathouse arc timeline.

CW: bbu, previous identity

On an overcast Saturday morning in October, Cameron told Zee to shower and get dressed. He obeyed, and when he came down the stairs a grey windbreaker was thrust into his arms. He followed Cam out the door of their off-campus house and ducked into the passenger seat of his car. The door was stiff with the cold. He had to pull it firmly in order to get it to shut again. It slammed louder than he’d intended and he winced, waiting for a reprimand. None came.

“Cam?” he asked, trying to gauge his mood by his reaction to his name alone.

Cameron turned his eyes to his passenger as he turned the key and his 88’ Mustang growled to life. He was wearing khakis with a navy university hoodie and his green eyes were sleepy but not stoned. “What.”

A what with no inflection was a good response from Cameron. It was neutral, not fake-friendly but not tinged with warning, either.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh.” He actually laughed as he checked his dash’s gas gauge and rpm’s. The needle jumped and dipped as the Mustang idled in the unseasonably chilly air. “Nobody told you, huh?”

Zee shook his head. A few months ago, Cam would have let him ride in mystery or said something cryptic to make him nervous. Something like questions are above your rank, aren’t they? Or why spoil my fun, Z2?

But lately Cam had been more tolerable. Zee didn’t know if this was because he’d finally figured out what it is Cam wanted, which was not a perfect WRU product but a self aware, would-be equal demoted to the rank of subordinate— someone a little afraid of him but not too much, someone who would give him pushback if he went too far, but submit if he persisted. The other explanation was that it could be some strange change of heart after the time he’d come into Alex’s room and hung out with them. Maybe he just got sick of the performative bullying he’d spent so much of his hard earned money on for laughs, and was moving on. Either way, Zee was just glad moving on looked like more eye contact and conversation between them, and not being locked in a room somewhere forgotten, or abandoned to the brothers he considered even worse.

“Chapter fundraiser,” Cam answered mildly as he reversed out of the overcrowded driveway and onto the street. Zee could smell the car’s exhaust, and something like drifting smoke from a backyard brushfire in the dry air.

“A color run. You know, like a 5k but they dump a bunch of colored powder on everyone as they run? I’m manning a photo-slash-donation booth at the finish line today.” He pulled into a Dunkin Donuts half a mile from their street, on a divided highway dotted with office parks and medical buildings, ENT’s and orthopedic clinics with meticulously maintained black mulch landscaping.

The Dunkin had cream siding and tan trim, like it was trying to blend in with a more sophisticated neighborhood than its bright pink and orange colors warranted. Cam parked out front and absently told him “sit.” A few minutes later he returned with two cardboard gallon-boxes in each hand.

“Coffee and hot chocolate,” he said, setting one by Zee’s feet and the other in Zee’s lap. The warmth of its sides felt delicious on his hands. The Mustang’s heat was touch and go. “How anyone goes straight from a 5k to hot chocolate is beyond me, but I do what I’m told.”

Zee didn’t think it would be that hard, for people used to running in all sorts of weather. He’d seen Dominic mainline back to back tuna melts not ten minutes after a practice that had him as soaked in sweat as if he’d been swimming. Cameron was discerning and catlike in comparison— economical with his movements, apt to go a full day without eating and not even notice.

The thought of food made him hungry, but he was with Cam today, which meant he was on a Cam schedule. If Cam happened to eat, he might be offered food. More than likely though, Cam would have nicotine for lunch and not eat until much later when he was high. He put the thought from his mind.

The event site was already packed with people. Zee carried the gallon containers like dumbbells while Cameron got a backpack out of the trunk and led the way to the finish line. Their booth was already assembled. Anthony Shorey, always in shorts even if there was snow on the ground, was there with his hands crossed over his chest and tucked under his armpits for warmth, talking to a couple of girls wearing white hoodies and pastel leggings.

One of the girls saw Cameron and did what was meant to be a cutesy whine of his name, dragging out the N at the end. She saw Zee and her eyes slid to the boxes he carried. “Ohh, what’d you bring?” she asked, ignoring Zee entirely.

“Coffee and cocoa,” Cam answered, lifting his arm as she tucked herself under him into a hug. “Help yourself.”

There were two races scheduled, he learned. One started at eleven and the second at one. Sunlight was breaking weakly through the clouds as Cam set up their gear— a scannable QR code he taped to the table, a card reader, a cash tip jar with their Greek letters taped to the front of it. A cardboard box that had been left under the booth contained color run event lanyards and t shirts, which he set up tabletop in neat rows.

Zee set up the drinks on his end of the table, closest to the photo booth. He sat back in one of the plastic chairs and startled like an idiot when something touched his legs. It was a blanket, and Cam was holding the other end of it. A quick scan of his surroundings told him neither Tony Shorey nor the girls in running clothes from the next booth had noticed his flinch, but Cam had. He gave Zee a centimeter’s tilt of the head that Zee had begun to understand was an olive branch, a momentary reassurance of truce. Zee tucked the blanket around his legs and torso. “Thanks,” he said softly.

The first run brought waves of color-spattered participants past their booth, with many stopping in to take post-race photos together with their magenta, indigo and canary-yellow faces, hair, and clothes. Cam chatted and sold t-shirts. Zee spent most of his energy on just trying to look normal, glad he wasn’t covered in colored powder and made to run with his ankles tied closely together or something equally stupid. They would’ve if it was a frat backyard event. This was too big, too public. For all anyone knew he was a brother.

As the waves of completionists came through following the second race, he was more comfortable. David Shoaf brought new Dunkin containers and paper cups and replaced the nearly empty ones on the table. He took Cam’s place and Cam disappeared to a nearby booth where Zee kept glancing over his shoulder for him, uneasy being left without him in the way he used to be uneasy without Alex or Dominic. He was talking to a group of guys, two of which were covered in powder, and one girl, a ponytailed Amber Malloy who was not.

“Jamey?!”

Zee’s attention snapped back to the booth. In front of him was a twenty-one year old named Marshall Sains. His brain knew it immediately— provided the name with the face that was looking into his with a mixture of surprise and the specific delight that comes with encountering the deeply unlikely. Though Zee knew him immediately, it took a moment to place him. He rarely thought of anyone from before, except for the judge and his own mother, though he tried very hard to block those thoughts, banish them to his subconscious. There was discomfort in his life that he could control and discomfort that he couldn’t. Thoughts of before— of who he really was, belonged to the former category.

Marshall Sains belonged to before, he realized slowly. Not a brother, or a friend of theirs, or a guy someone knew who came around sometimes. Not a teammate of Dominic’s he recognized or one of Alex’s siblings. Marshall Sains was his friend in highschool. They had biology together, and B lunch. He drove a Toyota Camry, and his star athlete older brother had died in a car accident in 2010. People still stopped him and offered condolences when he was a junior in 2014, Zee had witnessed it more than once.

“N-no,” he muttered weakly. Absurdly. Adrenaline flooded his gut like a writhing pile of snakes. A group came out of the photo booth covered head to toe in garish colors like warpaint. Marshall Sains studied him, his smile freezing and dying on his familiar face, a few years older now but not much changed.

He was looking at him like he couldn’t believe it, like he was looking for something that might indicate he’d made a mistake— a cluster of freckles or the bridge of a nose that was not quite right. Zee knew he wouldn’t find it. He was right, of course, he was two feet away from his friend Jamey who’d disappeared from the face of the earth with nothing but rumors of where he’d gone and why.

He’d rather they all thought he was in prison. Or dead, really. Less humiliating that way.

In his peripheral vision he saw Cameron break away from the group he’d been talking to and come slowly back over to the booth, hands in the front pocket of his university hoodie, not inserting himself in the situation but hanging casually back as if to survey the runners as they completed their race. But Zee knew he was listening.

“Jamey. Oh my God. Dude. It’s Marshall Sains?” he laughed uncomfortably, like he was waiting for Zee to admit he was just messing with him and stand up to hug him and clap him on the back. “How the fuck are ya?”

“I’m sorry man,” Zee managed in his most offhanded, who-is-this-weirdo voice. “I guess I have a twin. But I don’t know a Jamey and I don’t know you.”

Marshall grew flustered then. The group that had come out of the photo booth were trying to pour themselves cups of coffee and he was in the way. Anthony Shorey was watching the exchange now with faintly raised eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” Marshall said. “I could swear…” he looked into Zee’s face one more time, reluctant to accept that his own eyes would lie to him so boldly. Zee stared back, fully committed to his story now that the initial shock and panic of seeing someone from before had subsided. His ears still rang like someone had boxed them from the word Jamey tossed out in proximity to Cameron Byrne and Anthony Shorey and all these people who belonged firmly to after.

“You gonna buy a shirt or something?” Zee asked with a little more sting behind it than he would have liked. Marshall was a good guy. But it did the trick. He gave an awkward hands-up gesture and backed off. Zee watched his friend’s back disappear into the colorful crowd.

Cam offered to take back his post behind the card reader and Anthony gladly gave it up. Cam said nothing at first, blowing warm air into his big-knuckled hands and rubbing them together near his lips. Finally he turned to Zee, which spiked his adrenaline all over again and made his teeth clench in his skull.

“He was right, wasn’t he?”

Lying to Marshall Sains and the rest of the world was one thing. Lying to Cameron was pointless, and it would only irritate him. Zee nodded.

“Who is he?”

“A guy I knew in highschool.”

“Where was highschool?”

Zee swallowed. They’d never talked about any of it, and he didn’t want to get into it here, in the middle of a crowd of people. Cam didn’t like when he acted too much like a mindless boxie, but he didn’t think he’d like him talking about his life before either.

“Kentucky,” he answered flatly.

Cameron scanned the crowd absently. “Mm.”

Zee stared at the fine print on the back of one of the Dunkin boxes, too small to read from where he sat and therefore too small to set off the needling discomfort that reading larger font brought onto his vision like a migraine.

Cam’s hand was chilly but not unpleasant on the back of his neck. It was a gentle weight, and he squeezed lightly with only the pads of his fingers. Zee turned in surprise, wondering what he would find in Cam’s eyes. They met his intently.

“I can call someone to come pick you up,” he said. “Alex is around I think.”

“No,” Zee shook his head. “I’m good.”

Cam gave him a questioning look, and now the pads of his fingers were almost petting the back of his neck, a touch that could be controlling or casual— certainly common among fraternity brothers to clasp each other by the back of the neck like it was a scruff— and turning it into something intimate. His skin tingled.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Drink something.” He nodded towards the boxes. “Either one, just get a drink.”

Zee reached for a paper cup and fumbled with the lever of the coffee box til steaming black liquid poured out. He hadn’t run the 5k at all but he felt like he’d sprinted it— his legs were shaky and his mouth was thick with saliva. He thought sweet cocoa might make him feel sick, and hoped caffeine would snap him out of his daze.

“Atta boy,” Cameron said under his breath, sliding the hand away from his neck. It wasn’t as condescending as it ought to be, or fake, or even really meant to be heard. It sounded something like simple camaraderie, even bordering on affection.

He sipped black coffee and felt the cold air on his neck where Cameron’s hand had been.

[renatogpadilla]

Light-Bleed.

It was supposed to be another patrol.

Lux and her Illuminators were supposed to be the scouts. That was the point of the name! Illuminate where the threat was and then Garen's men would take care of it. To the Demacian commoner, they were a charitable order of pious men and women who gave charity to the poor and downtrodden, but they could hold their own if push came to shove. Of course, that was only until backup arrived... At least without Lux outing herself.

So when they realized the little mage camp they were supposed to scout out was the current acting base of the Sylas of Dregbourne, saying they were in over their head was the understatement of the century.

Care to imagine what happens when you send a closeted Demacian mage-noble to a camp with a guy whose main superpower is to literally detect and absorb magic...?

What happens, as Garen Crownguard would discover that day, was a massacre.

When the Mageseekers arrived, there weren't many enemies left to fight. Just the marks of a long pair of magical chains, lining the split remains of the members of his sister's squadron.

If you're an older sibling, you might be able to imagine a fraction of the fear that Garen felt. All these bodies, of Mages and Illuminators alike... They could have all been killed, but they'd fought to the last man... They'd actually forced a retreat from Sylas from his own base. For all intents and purposes, they'd won the day!

But they weren't here to celebrate. They weren't here to cheer and rejoice that that monster had one less foothold in their home... They were dead. Splintered. Chained to death.

And his sister was nowhere in sight.

There was never a more panicked man than Garen Crownguard as he was in that moment. His men could handle the stragglers. He immediately started looking for survivors, but the big brother in him really only looked for one.

He caught the little flash of light out of the corner of his eye. Dim as death, but it was there. And he started digging under a small mound of bodies, once men and women of the Shield, like himself. And below the remains of about ten dead Illuminators, barely clinging to life, with a cracked breastplate, and a bleeding out of her side, her hands aglow, agonizing, but alive, was his sister Lux.

He picked her up as gently as he could in the state she was in. She'd hidden under the bodies to live. Or had they hidden her in the end, even knowing what she was? Gods, she would hate herself for this forever... He would make sure every single one of them had a hero's burial. He tucked her hands close to his chest so nobody could see, and his men understood. They took one look at him and told him to go. Normally, he would be the one staying above everyone else... Since when do his men give him orders? But this was Lux, and if there was one thing that had been abundantly clear since he day Garen had become a member of the Dauntless Vanguard and of the Mageseekers, and all of the men and women under him knew it, was the unshakeable faith and insurmountable love the Lord Commander felt for his little sister, and her for him. The few people that knew them personally would swear upon the Spirits that Lux was the only real weakness Garen had. The only thing that could cause him true damage.

And now his sister was dying.

The Mageseekers knew two things for sure as they saw him carry his sister away, running to where he knew she would have leashed her horse, Starfire, to a tree far enough away from danger: The first was that the pain he was going through right now was the most broken they would ever see him.

The second was that the reckoning that would befall the man that had dared lay hands on his little sister would be so righteously terrible, so incredibly brutal and visceral, that the Protector herself would look away in disgust.

But right now, Garen was running... and he was panicking. His sister winced in pain and her hands lit up brighter. She was glowing! He couldn't take her back to the Garrison! They'd know! He couldn't-!

"B-brother..." She could barely form the word. "Star..."

"I know, Lux, I know! I'll get her! I'll get you! You're going to be fine, I swear!" He rounded the corner and indeed, there was Starfire, whining like crazy. There had to be someone he could take her to...! All the healers were under the Crown, and everyone that wasn't was not going to keep their mouth shut about a Mage noble! Who else, who else...?!

He got close to the horse and his sister put a weak, glowing hand to her nozzle and whispered a name between whimpers.

"Isha..."

The horse got it immediately. As soon as she was free and Garen and Lux were on top, she bolted faster than Garen had ever seen her. Isha...? Garen hadn't seen her since the talk they'd had on the balcony a few months back... But she and Lux were close. She already knew... Whether she could help...

He'd trust his sister.

If she thought Isha could save her, he'd put his faith in her too. He let Starfire guide him to the woods next to a little town he'd never heard of before. Into the woods she galloped, fast as lightning, and dodged what Garen would later know were small metal plates on the ground. Traps, for intruders that got too close. Star knew the pattern by heart now.

His sister's whole skin was glowing. No. Not glowing... Flickering. In and out and dimmer every time.

The mare stopped in front of a ramshackle hut in the middle of the woods. Garen didn't have time to appreciate the decor. He patted Star on the head and carried his sister off.

"ISHA!!!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. "ISHA, SHE NEEDS YOU!"

He didn't hear the door unlock over his own heartbeat. The girl with the blue hair basically pushed the door down, her hand clutching something on her thigh.

"Garen? How did you-?" She managed. Then she saw her... Lux bleeding in her brother's arms, her glow wild and uncontrollable, barely clinging to life.

Her world came crumbling down all at once.

"Please..." Garen barely managed it.

That snapped her out of it. "Get her inside." She whispered, almost to herself, and then louder. "GET HER INSIDE, NOW!"

Whatever was on the main table was thrown to the side before Garen could lumber through the door. He put his sister there, in the middle of the room and gave Isha some space. At once, the raggedy woman started patching her up, taking whatever supplies she had on hand. And cleaning up the wounds.

"There's a lot of blood... I can't... There's gotta be SOMETHING!" She'd dressed the wounds and cleaned them up. She'd tried every ointment she could think of that would be safe and even removed pieces of metal from her wounds, but now Jinx was fully panicking. Lux was twitching on the table... What the hell could she do?! She'd not seen wounds this bad since... since...

"Stay awake, baby, stay with me!" The girl said, repeating it to both his sister and herself. Her hands moved so fast Garen couldn't keep track... He thought he saw a flash of purple as she moved from time to time, but that was probably him hallucinating out of stress. Little by little, a bunch of bandages and rags got tinted red...

Too red... Too much...! She could fix the lesser injuries but...

Oh. That's what she could do. What she and nobody else could.

She leaned over Lux's face. "Lux? I need you to listen to me... There's something I can do. And I don't know if it'll work, but if it does, it's going to hurt like hell. It's risky but it's all I've got, okay, love?"

Lux managed to lock eyes with her and Garen saw a softness - a love - he'd never seen in his sister before, even through the pain. She nodded. "Trust y-you..."

That was all Jinx needed to hear.

"I love you. Whatever happens, I love you, Luxanna." She kissed her like there was no tomorrow, and for a fraction of a second she was afraid there wouldn't be... "Garen, get her on the bed!" She said, and she ran to her workbench.

Garen didn't have to be told twice.

"I have you sister! I'm here, we're both here! We're not going anywhere!" He carried her to the room in the back and laid her on a comfy thatch bed. "What now?!"

Isha came into the room, rubbing a wet cotton furiously on her arm. "Now, you hold her down. This is going to be bad."

Then she pulled out a syringe and started drawing her own blood without a second of hesitation.

"What are you-?"

"My blood's not all normal. There's a drug in there that saved my life before. I'm hoping it saves her's too."

"Hoping?!"

"I'VE GOT NOTHING ELSE! YOU WANT HER TO LIVE OR NOT?!?!"

As she said it Garen could barely notice her eyes glowing, a small flash of purple, and then a brighter glow, not from her eyes, but from the syringe. A mix of crimson and neon purple that Garen could feel went against everything he once believed in... Blood Magic, in the most literal sense.

Isha got closer. "Okay, Lux, here goes. Whatever you see, it's not real. We love you!"

She stuck the syringe in the biggest wound she could find and pressed, trying for the life of her to focus on her job and not on Lux's screams of agony as the Shimmer entered her system.

Garen held her down on the bed as much as he could...

And then the lights went crazy.

One moment, her skin glowed like she was about to burst, a mix of gold and purple as gorgeous as it was terrifying. Her eyes, her hair, everything in the room changing colors wildly. The daytime seemed to turn off at one point. The sun outside looked blue, the shadows on the corners of the room felt brighter than any torch and the mirror reflected nothing but a black void where the light should have hit.

All throughout, Luxanna writhed in pain, and all throughout Jinx and Garen held her. And at some point, Jinx put a hand on Garen's shoulder, and he returned the gesture...

One last, massive scream of agony, Lux, lurching forward with almost enough force to push Garen off, and Jinx could swear she lifted a few feet off the bed, the light of her and Garen's own bodies dancing haywire as the Bright Lady fully lost control... and then...

Darkness. Pitch black darkness.

And little by little, the colors returned to the room. The right colors. Dimmer than before, but slowly returning regardless... Like the saturation was coming back to an old photograph.

Lux didn't move. Garen didn't move. He just held her, like a broken ragdoll he couldn't - he wouldn't - live without.

Isha didn't let go of Lux's hand as she sprawled herself and put her ear to her chest... Jinx had never prayed honestly in her life until now.

Nothing.

Nothing...!

Terrible, unreal nothing...!

.....

And then, faintly, weakly, almost imperceptibly, but there...

A heartbeat.

And now Jinx let the tears out.

"Oh, Lux!" She held her so tight she might've crushed her if she wasn't careful. "Oh, love, you really had us going there, honey! You'll be okay, you'll be okay...!"

She was alive. Garen looked at the gaping wound in her side and... He couldn't believe it. It was a small change, but the wound wasn't bleeding anymore! In fact it was... closing. Not super fast, but fast enough to notice.

His sister would live.

He finally allowed himself to breathe as he dropped on the corner of the room.

And very faintly, because his voice was still gone, he laughed. A nervous cry-laugh, like only a big brother could. And his tears began to dance in his eyes and off as well...

*****

It took a few minutes for them to catch their breath and Garen left the room to let Lux recover. He had taken off his armor. It had felt heavy for the first ever time today.

He sat on the couch outside the room in his slacks as Isha came out of the room, pacing.

"She's stable." She said. "Might not wake up for a while, but she'll live..." She had something folded over her shoulder...

She went over to her workbench and picked up a huge backpack and dragged it to the door. Then she sat on the floor, leaning on it.

Garen finally found his tongue.

"You saved her life." Whatever else he had to say would have to wait. That mattered the most. "Thank you."

She just gave him a look... He knew where she lived now. She thought that might be less of a problem than she might imagine, but time would tell...

"Who?" That's all she said. And from the venom in her voice, Garen knew exactly who she meant.

"Sylas of Dregbourne. I take it my sister told you who he is?" He didn't give a singular shit about protocol right now. Isha deserved to know.

"She's mentioned him." She'd done a hell of a lot more than mention him. Somedays, when they weren't... active at night, Lux would wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare the memory of 'Sylas the Unshackled' had caused. "Where?"

"Near the Hinterlands. The border between them and Demacian civilization proper... Just a forward camp, though."

"It's enough." She got up and stormed into her room. She leaned down over the bed and gave Lux a soft kiss before turning to her nightstand and leaving a little contraption there. A tiny toy monkey with a pair of cymbals in its hands and a crank in its back.

She looked at her. Her Light. Her Lux. Barely alive, having survived an agony few but Jinx herself would ever know...

"What are you doing?" Garen asked as she left the room in a huff.

"When she wakes up, she's going to need you." She said. She was in a place she hadn't felt herself in in a long time. "When this happened to me, I started hallucinating. I lashed out. Couldn't think straight. God knows what that means for a girl with Magic at her fingertips. You might have to restrain her."

Garen didn't think she could be mad enough to try what he thought she was going to try.

"And where are you going?"

"Hunting." She answered, and she took out a giant... Godesses, what was that thing? It took Garen a minute to comprehend it. Eight metal tubes strapped together to a massive chamber with a handle and a trigger. Scattered paint littered its surface in intricate patterns. She opened the bag with one hand and fed a bunch of scrap metal where she kept the back of the contraption open with the other. An absolute metal abomination of a weapon. "He went too far. Never again. Stay with Lux. Don't go anywhere. More importantly, don't let her go anywhere. If it's anything like what happened to me, she'll try to leave. Hard."

"You can't just take on Sylas by yourself! He's got gods know how many mages guarding him at all times, and even if you could find him, he did that to Lux! Lux had Magic!" Garen was one to talk... Like he didn't want to go himself! But she had just saved Lux's life. He wasn't going to let her throw her own away!

"Exactly. Magic he would steal. Magic he could use. He's so used to fighting your way... He won't be ready for me." Another weapon left the backpack. A single tube this time, thick as hell, almost as long as Isha herself. A metal shark head adorned what Garen assumed to be the nozzle, painted in blue, pink and gold. "Nobody ever is."

He couldn't stop himself. He got up and grabbed her by the shoulders. "And when he kills you? When Lux wakes up and you're dead? What then?! Why save her life if you're just going to make living it miserable?!"

That actually gave her some pause. Good, some common sense! Finally!

"You got somebody, G?" She sounded different... Darker. She was hurting just as much as him. "Somebody you love? Not like you love your sister... Someone you would die for if it meant they got to be free for a day at least... Someone like that?"

"I do. She... Disappeared during the first revolt Sylas started. I haven't seen her since." Garen had to stop himself from wondering the worst.

"What's her name...?"

"Katarina."

"Sounds pretty." And Jinx got the tiniest smile from the Lord Commander. "If it was her on that bed, and I wasn't here to save her... If you knew who did it. Would you stay your hand?"

The thought alone made him sick to his core. "I KNOW who did it! And going at him like this is not the play! He knows how this works!"

"Sylas knows how you work, Garen. He'll be expecting Mageseekers and Illuminators. A grand show of force, scorched earth, the works. That's why I can do this and you can't. Because I don't need Mageseekers and Illuminators to burn everything to the ground. Because he can't plan for me."

"I won't let you." And he meant that shit. He admired the hell out of her now, but he would not let her be killed by that monster too.

"Lord Commander." She said as that purple glow came to her eyes brighter than ever. Those eyes that were like daggers. Bright, glowing daggers that stabbed deep into Garen's soul. There was a rage in those eyes he had never seen on a human before. "With all due respect... You don't have a choice."

And then she pushed him. Harder than he'd ever been pushed in his life. He'd fought the trolls of the Freljord one on one and he'd not been pushed that hard! He flew over the table and landed back on the couch, pure shock in his face.

He saw her in full now. Her veins glowed purple for a second, her eyes a rabid animal's. She unfolded the thing on her shoulder at last, a dusty, dark green hoodie with fangs at the rim, the inside lined with so many toothy grenades Garen couldn't count them all. She readjusted that contraption strapped to her thigh (because of course that was a weapon too) and lifted both of those insane machinations of hers in one hand each as she turned to face the door.

Still in shock, Garen could only form one question.

"Isha... Who are you?"

The girl at least graced him with an answer.

"Not Isha." She said as she pulled the toothy hood over her head. And she sounded like a demon. Garen would know. He'd fought demons. "My name is Jinx of Zaun. When Lux wakes up, ask her who that is."

And in a flash of purple, she was gone.

*****

Jinx unstrapped Starfire from her tree. The mare didn't whine or step back. She knew what time it was too.

"Take me there."

And Starfire did. She carried the Witch of the Woods, weapons and all, like it was nothing. Almost flying through meadows and forests, ever onwards towards the Hinterlands. Towards their prey. She thought of the kind of monster she was hunting....

And a voice in the back of her mind said "Kill", and Jinx didn't have to be told twice.

[zainnaprollyloveslevi]

"My Kind of Heaven"

Simeon X MC (Married)

Summary: Simeon, your husband, has traded his celestial title for you. Now, you have to live with that fact as it haunts you in your everyday life. On top of that, insecurities lead you to say things and do things without thinking it through. However, your husband is determined to prove to you why you are worth every sacrifice.

Warning: SPOILERS!!! Angst to fluff! The narrator is a bitch. INSECURE MC. Nonbinary Reader/MC

Word count: 2.2k

Extra: Might be ooc. I haven't played the game in a while, and I don't know much about Simeon.

Sunlight sifts through the fabric of the curtains. Wind softly grazed the fabric, mimicking the motions of breath. The room felt warm, comfy, like home. You've been through a lot, you deserved this moment of peace. Your bed was soft and huge, because it was made for two. However, your husband has already left the warm sheets, now it's all for you to occupy. Simeon left for work ages ago, you stay at home most of the time.

How could you even consider going outside when you look like that?

You stretch your limbs, looking at the digital clock on your bedside table. It's 6:32 in the morning. It's time to get up. You slowly push your upper body to sit up right, still feeling a little groggy. However, your hunger overridden your desire to stay in bed. Legs dangling over the side of the bed, you were met with the mirror. It was weird, having a mirror right in front of your bed, but Simeon gently persuaded you to get one installed. It was huge, it took up your wall. You hated it.

Simeon, your husband, was a gentle soul. How could he not be? He was a former angel. An angel who loved you so much he set his heavenly wings on fire, losing his angelic title, all for you. Well, he didn't set them on fire literally, but it might as well have gone in that direction. You felt guilty. He would've stayed an angel, not running some cafe in the human world, providing for you. Sure, he was your husband, but he was so much more before this. He was an angel, now…

…he's just some guy married to someone who's better off six feet under.

You chuckled at that thought, looking at the floor, at your feet as it dangled off of the bed. He loved you, so much so that he married you. You said yes, not because you loved him too, but because it was all you could give back to the heavenly soul who sacrificed everything for you. That doesn't mean you don't love the man, you just hate yourself so much it overrides every other feeling you have for anything else.

Who wouldn't? Look at you. Mediocre. So mediocre you blend in with the background. There's nothing special about you. Your features don't work well with each other, if beauty standards were measured numerically, you'd be a negative.

And they are measured numerically. Mostly by people who think they can put a price on physical features. It doesn't matter if you're smart, kind, or talented. If you aren't a piece of ass, you're a nobody. You hated the thought, you hated entertaining It. It's the reason why you were so insecure. Every classmate, every peer, every user on social media, they all managed to out-shine you.

The only achievement you have is the fact that you're married to a former angel.

You gaze down at your hands, sitting palms down on your lap. What ugly, dry hands they were. You look at your thighs, what an ugly shape. You look up at the mirror. What a hideous creature you are. No wonder you were constantly rejected and pushed away by the people you adored. You chuckle sadly, sarcastically, a hint of anger vibrating in your throat. You were angry at the world for looking prettier than you, you were angry at the arrogant people who got away with everything just because they had a pretty face, but most importantly…

…You were angry at yourself.

You finally found the courage to stand up, feet weakly carrying you closer to the mirror as if this was your first time walking. Your eyes were glued to the eyes in the mirror, staring right into your soul.

What a hideous creature you are. This is what an angel sacrificed his holy title for? Pathetic.

Angry eyes stare right back at you. Is this what he would look like if he realized the monstrosity he married? Is this the way Simeon looks at you if he took off the rose-tinted glasses and looked at you and all of your repulsive glory? You managed to press a hand onto the mirror, palm flat on the smooth, clean surface.

You don't deserve this moment of peace.

You don't deserve jack shit.

This feeling of self-loathing, you always had it ever since you were young. It only grew stronger and more hateful when you found out Simeon was no longer an angel. You are the reason for an angel's fall, all because you needed to “stabilize your power”?

That makes you unsightly and weak.

The more you stare at your reflection, the more the flesh and features mold into one, the ugly creature you always have envisioned yourself to be emerges from the depths of your mind. You hated yourself, more than anyone could ever hate you. Why did you agree to this marriage? Why did you keep him trapped with someone like you? Here on earth, no longer something great, something like you. Stuck to take care of an overgrown baby, whining and crying about the way they look. You don't deserve a husband, you don't deserve him, and you definitely don't deserve a life.

“Love?”

A voice pierced through your train of thought, the illusion your hateful mind started to bring to life dissipated with only one word. You turn your head to the door, a tall figure standing by the light, a worried look on his face.

“MC, what's wrong?”

Simeon, still as ethereal as the day you met him, stood by the doorway of your shared bedroom. The ring glistened due to the rays of the sun shining through any vacant space surrounding him and the doorway. You stand up straight.

“Simeon.”

Your voice betrays your need to act composed.

“You're still here…”

It wasn't a question, it was an expression of surprise. You were so sure he left at around 5:00 am to prepare the cafe for opening. He steps forward, letting more sunlight in. Were the days always this bright?

“The new hire insisted he open the cafe, so I took this opportunity to plan a little us-day for us.”

His smile was soft, his words were gentle, an angel.

“Are… are you sure that he can handle the cafe on his own?”

“Well, Luke is there. They'll be fine.”

“You left a child to take care of the new hire?”

“No, love, I left the new hire to take care of the child.”

He smiles. You can't tell if he's joking or If he's being serious.

“Simeon, that's dangerous! What if something happens?!”

“Luke is a big boy now. He is more than qualified to work the shop. They'll be fine, love, I promise.”

He walks towards you, placing a hand on your shoulders before hugging you gently but tightly. Your chin rests upon his chest while he rocks you left and right, as if he's trying to sway you to sleep.

“...let me take care of you first.”

He lets the palm of his hand rest onto your head, fingers resting through the strands of your hair but not brushing through them. He hums.

“Are you having those thoughts again?”

You relax your shoulders. Sure, he has lost his celestial powers and rights but that doesn't change the fact that he has this naturally calming effect.

“... how did you know?”

“I know who I married, love.”

He plants a soft kiss onto your head, swaying you gently. A guilty pang fills up your heart. You don't deserve this.

“If it weren't for me, you'd still be up in the celestial realm with luke.”

There was a minute of silence, as if giving you a moment to say everything you needed to say. When you fell silent, he speaks.

“Heaven is not a place.”

“Huh?”

He smiles, letting go of the hug to look at you, hands resting on your shoulders. His eyes look right into yours.

“...It's when I look at you. Heaven is when I wake up each day to feel you next to me…”

He gently takes his hand and rests it upon the side of your face, rubbing your cheeks with his thumb.

“... I'd trade the entire world and myself if it meant I could spend even just a minute with you, my dear.”

Suddenly, he squeezes your cheeks with one hand, frowning a little.

“So don't ever blame yourself for my quote unquote fall. Blame me for wanting to be within your presence for more than just a day as if I need you to breathe.”

Those words, as sweet as they are, weren't enough for you. You brush his hand away from your face, letting your gaze drop down onto the floor.

“Stop it. Stop being so nice to me, Simeon.”

He takes a step back and straightens his posture and stance. He realizes that words from the heart won't be able to sway you.

“Look at me. Look at who you sacrificed yourself for!” You gestured to your face. “You wasted a good thing for some asshole you thought was pretty enough to wear a ring with!”

The words spill out of you. His expression is calm and composed, yet you can tell he's listening to everything you were saying. You continue,

“Wake up, Simeon. You're no longer an angel, you're a nobody.”

You can only hear yourself breathing. You don't know why you said that. Why are you self-sabotaging the one good thing you have? Do you hate yourself so much that you think it's okay to force others to feel the same? To hate you with the same exact loathing you have towards yourself? Would it be worth it?

His expression doesn't falter, his stance the same, but his voice changed.

“You're wrong.”

He responds, you scoffed. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Was he that foolishly in love with you that his common sense flew out the window? Maybe it disappeared along with this celestial status.

“Angel or not, I am somebody.”

He takes a step forward, it wasn't a statement, it was said as an argument.

“I am the owner of the now popular Cafe down the road, I have made several friends at the market, I am the legal guardian of a very good kid named Luke- who will one day become the best guardian angel there is!...”

He keeps stepping forward, you retreat. “Simeon, I'm sorry-”

“... I am friends with the CEO of the Ritcher Hotel Group who is also next in line for the Devildom throne, I had my brothers taken away from me as I stand by and watch them fall, I was one of the exchange students for a program in the Devildom where I fell in love with a fellow exchange student who I am married to now- and speaking of which-!”

He stops just right in front of you.

“I am your husband.”

Silence follows as you stare into his eyes, longing for you to understand.

“... I am a lot of things, my dear. You are too.”

He looked down at your hands, they were tense. He takes both of them and raises them to level with his chest, they soften.

“You are so many things that it saddens me to think that you don't see it.”

He plants a kiss to your thumb,

“You were a confused human who always needed help.”

He kisses your pointer finger,

“You were a stubborn human who always got themselves into trouble.”

He kisses your middle finger,

“You are an excellent student of magic, Solomon can attest to that. And finally…”

He kisses your wedding ring.

“You are my wife, the amazing person I have the pleasure of marrying.”

He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, his gaze locked on the ring.

“All these lives, all these souls, all these worlds, and yet fate…”

He looks up at you, a smile on his face.

“...led you to me.”

You couldn't say a thing, you didn't even realize that you were on the verge of crying until tears started rolling out of your eyes. He wipes each one away.

“Hate yourself all you want, I'll be happy to remind you of how loved you truly are. You're not beautiful because you look pretty, you're beautiful because you're so kind and considerate.”

He chuckles,

“Almost a little too considerate.”

“Simeon, I'm sorry!”

You hiccuped, holding his hand as he wipes your tears away, he shushed you.

“It's alright. Do you want to spend the day here? We don't need to go outside. If there's something I can get you, I'll go get it for us.”

Your heart swells, melts, and cries. Your husband, your beautiful husband, loves you more than words can describe.

“What do you want for breakfast, love? I'll make it for you. My sanctuary, my heaven.”

[caitified]

cait fluff I have this idea in my head and like nobody can write it better than you... not exactly like smut but sorta suggestive? idk, anyway, (btw I send in jumbotron LOL signify me by this emoji 😼 every time I'm in here which is gonna be lots bc u encapsulated everything just like I wanted) ANYWAY, prompt, u travelling around with Cait in the midst of her hectic career and u and Cait not rly having enough time to be intimate in the midst of motherhood and stuff. so like one night, got home late and bella's so tired, so u guys do the parent thing of teleporting baby to bedroom from car and she wakes up, asking for a bedtime story. Cait picks the most memorable day of her life (the bedtime story is like reader maybe giving birth to Cayla, u can make it anything u want ofc) u guys try to put bella to bed and read her bedtime stories and she just wants to be close to her mamas like shes clinging to Cait, playing with ur hair, and Cait gives her so many smooches, Lets Bella climb on her and play with the hem of her shirt and like in cutest 2 year old voice bella's like "me?" when Cait tells her like certain parts of the birth and Cait even shows her pics and stuff. u get all emotional remembering it all and soon enough bella falls asleep and u guys sneak out quietly to get to bed. in bed, u guys like reminisce and talk about being moms for the rest of your lives and everything that awaits you. the intimacy just comes rushing back in , and u guys like kiss and it's one of those kisses that are supposed to be like brief, but when u pull back, it's just BOOM and full on make out with potentially Cait havin' grabby hands ifykyk

no smut bc this scenario is so cute but!!

BEDTIME STORY

CAITLIN CLARK X FAMILY READER

comments: 😼 idk how you get it right EVERY TIME but these are so cute. for everyone’s sake please keep requesting!!!!!! i’m obsessed. hope this did it justice!

warnings:no smut but implied

it was late by the time you got home. the drive back from caitlin’s game had been quiet—bella knocked out in her car seat, her little head tilted to the side, her mouth slightly open as soft breaths escaped her. it had been a long day for everyone, traveling from arena to arena, managing caitlin’s packed schedule, and trying to keep up with a two-year-old in the chaos of it all.

caitlin parked the car in the driveway, her hazel eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror. “she’s out cold,” she whispered with a small smile.

you smiled back, exhaustion evident in your features but softened by the sight of your daughter so peacefully asleep. “should we try to teleport her to bed?”

caitlin chuckled softly, unbuckling her seatbelt. “parent superpowers, let’s go.”

between the two of you, you managed to scoop bella out of her car seat without waking her. her tiny body melted into caitlin’s arms, her head resting on her mama’s shoulder as you quietly unlocked the front door. the house was dimly lit, warm and inviting after the chaos of the day, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you as you stepped inside.

but as caitlin started up the stairs, bella stirred, her little face scrunching up before her eyes fluttered open. “mama?” she mumbled sleepily, her voice small and scratchy from sleep.

“hey, baby,” caitlin whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “we’re home. let’s get you to bed, okay?”

bella rubbed her eyes with tiny fists, looking around as she fully woke up. “no bed,” she whined softly, reaching for you. “story.”

“bella, it’s so late,” you said gently, taking her from caitlin’s arms. she clung to you, her cheek pressing against your shoulder as she yawned.

“please, mama?” she asked, her little voice full of pleading.

caitlin smiled, brushing a strand of hair from bella’s face. “okay, one story. but then it’s bedtime, deal?”

bella nodded, a small smile breaking through her pout. “deal.”

the three of you settled into her room, caitlin sitting on the edge of the bed while you leaned against the headboard with bella curled up in your lap. she was still so sleepy, her little hands playing absently with the hem of caitlin’s shirt as she rested her head against your chest.

“what story do you want, baby?” caitlin asked, her voice soft and full of love.

bella thought for a moment, her brows furrowing in concentration. “tell me… tell me ‘bout me.”

you and caitlin exchanged a look, a shared warmth passing between you. caitlin smiled, her hazel eyes bright even in the dim light of the room. “about you, huh? okay.”

she reached out, gently taking bella’s small hand in hers. “the most memorable day of my life was the day you were born,” she began, her voice steady and full of emotion.

bella’s eyes widened, her little voice breaking through. “me?”

“you,” caitlin confirmed, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “it was a sunny day, just like today. your mama and i were so excited, but also a little scared, because we knew everything was about to change.”

you smiled softly, your own memories of that day flooding back. “your mommy was so nervous,” you added, looking at caitlin with a teasing grin.

“hey, i wasn’t that nervous,” she said, laughing quietly. “but yeah, i was pretty scared. then i heard your first cry, and everything else just disappeared. you were the most beautiful thing i’d ever seen.”

bella looked up at caitlin with wide eyes, her tiny fingers reaching out to touch her face. “really?”

“really,” caitlin said, her voice thick with emotion. “you were so little, bella. and so perfect. i didn’t want to let you go.”

bella leaned closer to caitlin, her small hands clutching at her shirt as she climbed onto her lap. “show me,” she said softly.

caitlin pulled out her phone, scrolling through until she found a picture from that day. she held it up for bella to see—a tiny, wrinkled baby swaddled in a pink blanket, her face scrunched up as she slept.

“that’s me?” bella asked, her voice filled with awe.

“that’s you,” caitlin said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

you felt your throat tighten, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you watched them. it was a moment so simple, yet so profound, and it reminded you of just how much your lives had changed since that day.

before long, bella’s eyes started to droop, her little body relaxing against caitlin’s as sleep began to take over. she clung to her mama, her soft breaths evening out as she finally drifted off.

you and caitlin exchanged a quiet smile, both of you reluctant to move and disturb her. but eventually, you managed to lay her down, tucking her in and pressing soft kisses to her forehead before sneaking out of the room.

in your own bed, the quiet of the house wrapped around you like a blanket. you lay beside caitlin, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on her arm as the weight of the day began to settle.

“she’s getting so big,” you said softly, your voice tinged with emotion.

caitlin nodded, her hazel eyes fixed on the ceiling. “i can’t believe it’s been two years. sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday.”

“she’s going to be amazing,” you said, your voice full of certainty. “just like her mom.”

caitlin turned to you, her gaze soft and full of love. “and her other mom,” she said, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

it started slow, almost hesitant, like neither of you wanted to break the fragile peace of the moment. caitlin’s lips moved against yours with purpose, soft but deliberate, and her hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer.

“you’re so beautiful,” she whispered against your mouth, her voice low, almost reverent.

you let out a soft sigh as her words sank into you, your fingers gripping the hem of her shirt, desperate for more closeness. “cait…” you murmured, your voice trailing off as her lips found the curve of your jaw, lingering there like she wanted to memorize every inch of you.

her hands grew more confident, slipping under your shirt to rest on your waist, her fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “i’ve missed this,” she admitted, her voice thick with emotion as she pulled back just enough to look at you.

her hazel eyes searched yours, and you could see the weight of the past few months etched in them—the endless travel, the late nights, the moments stolen away by the demands of life and motherhood. but beneath all of it, there was love. an overwhelming, unshakeable love that made your heart ache in the best way.

“me too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your hands slid up to her shoulders. “i’ve missed you.”

her lips found yours again, deeper this time, as if she were trying to make up for all the moments you hadn’t been able to steal away together. her hands moved up your sides, her touch both tender and possessive, and you melted into her completely.

“you drive me crazy,” she murmured against your lips, her voice tinged with a hint of a smile as her hands explored the familiar curve of your waist.

“good crazy?” you teased, your breath hitching as her lips moved to your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses that made your head spin.

“the best kind of crazy,” she said, her words muffled against your skin. her hands found your hips, her grip firm but full of affection, like she never wanted to let go.

you let out a quiet laugh, the sound quickly turning into a soft moan as her kisses grew more insistent. your fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as your heart pounded in your chest.

“cait,” you breathed, her name a plea as the space between you disappeared completely.

she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, her hazel eyes dark with emotion. “you’re everything to me,” she said, her voice steady despite the raw vulnerability in her words. “you always have been, and you always will be.”

your chest tightened, the weight of her love settling over you like a warm blanket. “i love you so much,” you said, your voice breaking slightly as you leaned forward to kiss her again.

it was slower this time, less urgent but no less intense. her hands stayed on your waist, anchoring you to her as you poured everything you felt into the kiss—every ounce of love, gratitude, and longing you had.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together as the world around you faded away.

if you don’t like the bella fics i’m sorry bc im in such a family mood. requests r open for everyone!

[thelilylav]

Ohhh I can get on this train.

So I know a lot of people say Alice got stuck in Wonderland where she then had Alistair, but in Kitty's diary she seems at least old enough when leaving Wonderland to realise what's going on, so I like to think that Bunny and Alistair knew each other pre-curse and/or Alistair was actually about to start his story when the curse happened (so his mom wouldn't have been there or she would have come back after the story already played out - you could also argue that the Jabberwocky exists so the idea of her returning in Through the Looking Glass would as well, which might have opened opportunities to come visit, but timelines with Wonderland always get tricky in this show). That being said...

With them spending all the time in Wonderland because of the curse, I like to imagine that's what finally gets Bunny to start opening up. The curse doesn't seem like it's ever going to end, and life may be a living nightmare in many ways, but Alistair's not leaving anymore! She starts to open up, little by little, letting all his declarations of love finally get to her, and starts to think that she might be okay with them going somewhere.

That is, until they find the Storybook of Legends. Because now, this discovery means the portal is open again, and the future where she loses him comes rushing back. And Bunny and Alistair are nothing if not good people, so they won't let this discovery remain a mystery forever. Of course they'll bring it back.

This would be a really good explanation for why they keep denying that they're dating once they get to Ever After. Alistair knows why Bunny doesn't want them to become official, and he won't push her on this because he doesn't want to hurt her, but pretending that they're nothing is hurting them both, and nobody really gets why they're so upset. After all, the book has been gone and they can choose whether to follow their destinies, so why would these two be so upset?

Here's where things get really fun. Alistair is pretty vocal in the series about liking adventure and wanting to follow his destiny, and Bunny has been seen to be pretty fond of her destiny as well. Kitty and Maddie may not care about destiny, and would be fine with the two running off and forsaking their stories, but there's also the question of Lizzie. Lizzie, who misses home so badly she spends all her time in the Wonderland grove just to get the briefest reminder of home. Lizzie, who's dreamed of being the Queen of Hearts her whole life. So we get a fun little dilemma for Alistair and Bunny. They could go against their destinies to be together, which would mean neither fulfilling the role they've dreamed about their whole lives and potentially robbing one of their best friends of her only chance to go home and live the life she's been dreaming of since childhood as well, or they could go through with their destinies and fulfill their roles, but ultimately lose each other.

And while, sure, running away together might seem more logical, this is Alistair and Bunny we're talking about. These two practically advertise their need to people please. It would kill them to cause the kind of upset that going against their destinies would result in.

So was there really any choice for them at all?

bunnistair's been said by some to be kinda bland, a little too predictable, too boring. and while i kinda agree, i think the best way to make a ship more interesting is to give it a bit more angst. consider this: in the original story, alice always leaves wonderland. she wakes up from her dream, unsure if wonderland, with all its nonsense, was ever real or if it was just a figment of her imagination. in the eah world, of course it's real, but alice still has to leave. though she did fall in love with wonderland's wonder and magic and charm and riddles, she still had to climb back up that rabbit hole. because she had her family to go back to, her life to return to.

with this, alistair knows that he has to leave wonderland one day too. so he approaches his crush with bunny with so much gusto. he wants to spend all his time with her and confess his love before he has to leave. he wants to dive in 100%. but bunny approaches her own crush the total opposite way. she's hesitant to confront her love for allister because she knows how the story ends. alistair would have to leave and she doesn't know if she can deal with the heartbreak of him being gone from her life. she's convinces herself to never love at all instead of experiencing a love so great and wonderful and then losing it.

[deconstructthesoup]

Some STP Human Headcanons (Vessels)

-I mentioned this in my last Slay the Princess post, but Prisoner loves to dance. As soon as she's free to walk and move around, she learns how to dance as a way to a) feel like she's in control of her body again, and b) fully explore the freedom she's now offered. The day she learns swing dances is the first day that any of the others have seen her smile.

-Witch has about twenty different kinds of carnivorous plants in her house, and all of them have names. She likes talking to them, because plants don't say that you're dragging on when you complain about your day, or tell you that your outfit looks awful when you're trying something new, or tell you that you're a massive dork when you gush about your favorite graphic novel series.

-Oh, yeah, Witch is a comics/graphic novel nerd. She's a big fan of Alison Bechdel, Vera Brosgol, ND Stevenson, and Elaine Lee, and she loooooooooves Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. She reads DC comics for them and them alone.

-As a way to express some individuality while they're still figuring out what their personality is---and if they even have a cohesive one---Stranger dresses in incredibly elaborate outfits, and the style changes rapidly from day to day. They can go from dressing like a Southern Belle (complete with a parasol) to dressing like a Victorian swashbuckling thief (complete with a cane and masquerade mask) to dressing like they're heading to a 1980's roller rink (surprisingly, they make the skates work) on any given day, and all of the girls place bets on whatever they're going to wear next. Nobody has won.

-It's a terrible pun, but I'm ridiculously attached to the idea of Razor being a metalhead---and if not a metalhead exactly, then a major fan of any and all punk rock music released in the Riot Grrl era. She owns every single Bikini Kill album, every single Raincoats album, and will neither confirm nor deny having a Joan Jett body pillow. If she can sing-scream along to it, she'll listen to it.

-Adversary is the most kickass roller derby player you have ever seen in your life. She's got face-paint, she's got stickers on her helmet, she's got scuffed shoulder and knee pads from bodying the girls on the other team... she's fucking awesome. Razor shows up to every single game with a hand-painted sign for her.

-Damsel is obsessed with video games like Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing, the Sims---basically, anything that's cute and low-stakes, she'll play. She absolutely has a set of pink cat-ear headphones that Witch bought for her. (Prisoner has matching blue ones, but she never wears them.)

-Nightmare is a theater kid. She recites Shakespearean monologues at the drop of a hat, devours occult-themed musicals like her life depends on it, and has a flawless soprano voice that will actually give you chills. Her rendition of "The Ballad of Jane Doe" at a voice recital made several people cry. She relishes in their tears.

-Prisoner and Spectre both love books, but while it's more of an academic thing for Prisoner (she likes history and math, because it's just facts), Spectre is a total fiction reader. Mostly classics like Jane Austen and Agatha Christie, but she's also got a bit of a guilty pleasure for well-written romance novels, and she loves The Locked Tomb series. Even if the Alecto stuff hits a bit too close to home.

-Stranger is really into arts and crafts, to the point where they've pretty much learned everything from crotcheting to making clay earrings. Almost all of their creations end up being gifted to one of the girls, and they're all very much treasured and appreciated.

-Tower has a difficult time really connecting with most of the girls, since she's still trying to get herself to come down from her superiority complex, but she has figured out that they will always like her as long as she brings her credit card with her. No matter the setting, Tower is fucking loaded, and even the more masc girls like Adversary are willing to go on a shopping spree.

-That being said, I think Tower gets along the best with Nightmare, because they're both absolutely self-assured, barely care about other people (except their best girls, of course), and are both intimidating in their own ways. They're absolutely the kind of best friends who bitch about people while doing each other's nails.

-Witch and Spectre both do witchcraft for funzies, but Witch is more about the plants and herbalism, while Spectre's all about the Oujia boards and tarot cards. They're kind of in a two-person coven together---you gotta find something to bond over, and what better way to connect than your shared interest in magic?

-If I'm not just making Beast into a cat, I'm making Beast into a preteen, because just making her a human adult just doesn't... fit her. Besides, it's way more easy---and more fun---to imagine her as that low-key feral kid who's always digging for worms during recess, always gets into fights with bullies and winds up covered in Band-Aids as a result, always wears the same ratty cat-ear beanie every day, and hisses at people who annoy her. She has weird-little-girl energy, I dunno what to tell you. (She still tags along on hangouts when there's no alcohol involved, though---she's either Witch's little sister or her daughter, and Witch is very keen on making sure she's included.)

-Damsel bakes. Every time one or more of the girls comes over, she has something in the oven, something sitting on the kitchen table cooling, and something that's in the middle of being frosted. She likes doing it because while it is something that she largely does for others, it's also something that gives her a sense of pride, and she also just has a lot of fun with it. Even when she has to clean up, she's humming a song from a Barbie movie under her breath. Probably from Princess & The Pauper (the best one, fight me).

-Adversary used to play the violin when she was a kid, but she got bored of it quick, and she switched over to the bass as soon as she could. Spectre is very good at playing the cello---she even does recitals!---and Witch... well, she played the French horn in high school. During marching band. It was the only extracurricular where she could have free reign to be as annoying as possible to the people who said that she had to have one for college credit. (Oh, also, Razor plays electric guitar. She's a really good singer, but she's an even better growler.)

And... I think that's all I got for now.

[somerandomcockroach]

Okay, but decepticon Prowl didn't plan and prepare and properly defect from the decpticons, he was thrown out.

The ask that mentioned him being a bad shot got me thinking.

We rarely see Prowl as a bad shot, so either one of two things are going on

1.) Prowl is just not emtionally invested in this fight and is running too many numbers for something else but he has to be here against his will

2.) Prowl is intentionally shooting certain deceptions because "they threaten the future of the decepticons" (they threaten and beat up Prowl)

So after enough "bad shots" the grunts of the decepticon base Prowl was stationed on (as barricade) beat him up, and throw him out. Prowl is annoyed by this because obviously he is important but he can't reveal himself without ruining his cover. So he goes planet hitch-hiking to get back to Megatron and obviously get reinstated and protection.

While planet hopping, "Barricade" meets Jazz who is currently under the name of Meiser since he is infiltrating and taking a look at some decepticon territory. Barricade does not know that Meiser has been following him since he got thrown out. Barricade also does not know that Meiser has his suspicions about who he is. Afterall, there aren't a lof of praxians left in the deception forces, and this one has some dumb gold paint on his cheveron that has already started to flake and show red in these harsh outdoor conditions.

Barricade does think that Meiser is either an autobot spy (since he is not accounted for in any of Prowl's databases and battlefield simulations), or has a major glitch in his logic circuits that got him kicked out and now desperate for any social interaction (which must be the reason why he is hanging around Barricade, since no one ever actually willingly hung out around him before, and especially nobody hangs out with Prowl).

Things keep happening that try to kill "Barricade". But luckly clumsy Meiser is right there to "accidentally" shoot the problem right in the processor. Barricade does not remember Meiser having a gun on him. Or a knife. Or that feral of a smile. But anyways he has places to be and a mech to see.

Prowl intends on turning in Meiser-the-spy or just ordering the death of Meiser-the-idiot once he gets back to Megatron. Especially since through this adventure, Prowl has learned that Meiser will listen to a long thought out and perfect plan, then immidiately go do his own thing, so he can't be used as some disposable pawn in one of Prowls plans.

Evnetually Prowl gets back to Megatron. It is unfortunate that this regrouping happens on an open battle-field, but Prowl predicts that the decepticons will have to make a hastly retreat in 27.8 joors and does not want to miss his ride home. He expects to be welcomed by Megatron, updated on all battle field data, and then sent to the safety of the back of the lines to go sip a cube and win this battle.

Except Megatron has noticed that decepticons tend to have more friendly fire where ever he sends Prowl. And Prowl has already given him predictions and battle maps and troop movement plans for the next 100 vorn. And honestly? Megatron has wanted to punch Prowl for a while now.

So he does just that. One moment Prowl is clearing his vocalizer to get his attention while he is OBVIOSLY busy beating up an autobot. And the next moment Prowl is 12 feets away with a large fist-sized crater in his chest. Serves that nerd right.

Prowl goes offline. Not from the injury. But from the glitch that spawned when Megatron didn't welcome him back and start a much needed debreif.

Anyways, Prowl wakes up in the autobot medbay.

HELP, oh you all really don't like Prowl and want him punched ahagsgga

In my mind it's hard to turn events to that. You see, I think Megatron would treat Prowl like autobots treat Ratchet. Megatron is ruthless in the way he treats his warriors, they fight for "freedom" so someone's life is worth it. Prowl always gives 99% successful plan with minimal risks. And these plans work because Megatron accepts them. Decepticons can say nothing but they hate "Prowl" behind all these plans, because they can see that they are turning in even more bugs than they were before. Before it looked at least like a live or die battle. Now it is a straight order of dying in their cases. But hey, ahah, who is this "Prowl"? There is only Barricade and a possibility of his hidden identity leaking, it's just Megatron can't keep his optics on him 24/7 so making him second identity is a good way of preventing him from instant death. I actually want to think of the ways Starscream could switch his attention to Prowl and not like him because he can't be bribed. "With such tactician even I can be a leader" and Prowl just "-_-".

Prowl is left without voice, tracking, comms, everything is done to not let Megatron find him, but he will search for him even if everyone tells him he is dead. Prowl just need to fix everything and not let others find any info on him and somehow leave to send a signal. So I bet there are much more layers to all of that. For Megatron to want to punch him he needs to be like Starscream or be a Sentinel Prime.

Pffht, imagine you see a very beaten up Decepticon, clearly beaten up by his own people. Everything that allows to track you is ripped off. What does it mean? They wanted to get rid of him while making it look like he died of accident in the end, they got all they needed from him and left him to suffer. Means he had something valuable within him and clearly will be more anticipating in the interrogation with autobots. Revenge takes a place, wouldn't it? So even if Jazz is in a good condition and finds him, he clearly will bring him to Autobot base right away. Prowl will not search the way on his own, he will be thrown out where it is impossible to get out by his own, Junkion, so his priority also will be to get saved even if go with autobots with the possibility of revealing his identity and he will make everything to not let it happen

[crow-crystal]

Song: This is Halloween

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

An Exellent Performance!

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    Halloween was fun. That was something Yuu could say with confidence. Convincing the others and Crowley to actually work with them to prepare a station of sorts for their dorm? (They still remembered how they didn't get to do anything last year, as much as thinking of how much time they've spent away from home hurt.) Wasn't as fun, not at all.

"Boys and girls of every age,"

Still, they wore their costume with pride. This was a world of Disney, and they'd be damned if they weren't going to have fun with said fact. Ramshackle turned to a remix of Halloween Town as they remembered it. (They told the ADuece duo to ignore the robotic reindeer they put on the roof. Nobody needed to know about the pranks planned for later.)

"In this town of Halloween,"

Grinning all the while, Yuu expertly avoids cackling at the look of distain on Leona's face as he sings and dances with everyone. Visitors are watching in awe as the show continues. Yuu may be an overworked, stressed, and tired student, but they at least knew how to put on a good show.

"Lifes, no fun without a good scare!"

Making a big entrance, their costume resembling a scarecrow of sorts with a pumpkin inspired mask, Yuu dances along as everyone sings the practiced lines. A big grin on their not so visible face as they prepare for the big reveal, already seeing Malleus prepare magic in the background. (They'd been so happy to find a way to include their friend in the activity. They weren't blind to how he still had issues getting noticed by the others.)

"This is Halloween!"

Malleus had used his magic to make green 'fire' flare around them before extinguishing it once Yuu used a practiced cartwheel and flip to jump into the 'fountain' as everyone continued the performance despite the audience's gasps.

"Everyone hail to the pumkin song"

Rising with a wide grin, one that was just a bit too wide, they do the very same thing they remembered Jack doing in the movie. Twirling with a bow at the end once everyone finished singing and cheered. The audience joins soon after as everyone excitingly speaks.

Wee!

"Is that a reindeer? Wait, what's it -"

"ITS GOT A PAINTBALL GUN!-"

"WHY MEEE"

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If you couldn't tell, this chapter was made before the Halloween update that gave us our lovely Twst Skully. I think he'd be proud to know that many students were, in fact, attacked with a paintball gun.

[jrwiyuri]

Is any other jrwier actually a bit obsessed with how much of Grefgore has been changed by his forced devotion to Shilo (and likely in some way previously to the Queen) and how little of Grefgore probably exists in him anymore because he’s supposed to be a servant? Or is that just me..?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Odyssey would have been a lot shorter if Odysseus gave the Cyclops weed instead of wine.