#then wake up one day and realize because we were waiting for a perfect system all our fucking rights are gone?????

[the-paris-of-people]

The past couple days online have been... interesting. I consider myself a leftist, think capitalism is corrupt, and think that it needs to be seriously reformed/overthrown. I admit that while I've thrown around phrases and terms like "burn it all down" and "the revolution needs to come" out of frustration without actually thinking about what a revolution entails: excellent organization, unity, and strategy to defeat the United States, the world's largest military superpower which has inflicted political and social destabilization across the majority of countries around the world. There also needs to be superb infrastructure and community to support the disabled, elderly, and poor populations who rely on government assistance and programs, healthcare, and accommodations while this so-called revolution rages on.

All I've received from the far leftist movement are lectures from condescending intellectuals who rattle off academic citations regarding ideological theory rather than practical, tangible steps to advocate for change in our local and regional communities. I have not seen one of them actually discuss conversations they've had with their friends, family, or Americans about what they want to see reflected for the future of the country. I have not seen one of them discussed how destructive, detrimental and traumatic a Trump presidency was for social prejudice and morale in the United States. I understand that for many marginalized groups they've been living in a facist state for centuries so the possibility Project 2025 doesn't galvanize them to see the two parties differently, but I don't think it is fair to white leftists falsely equivocate the election of both parties for the entire American population at all??? Or like at least specify the issues you're referring to in which you view both parties as the same????? Literally one TikTok creator who I used to follow talked about how true leftists are so much better than liberals because they aren't waiting for a presidential candidate to save the world NOW due to the accelerated apocalypse due to climate change but when asked how to change the world they suggest sharing ideas of your future utopia with other leftist groups. How the fuck is sitting around talking about living in a walkable community is great considered "saving the world now"? How are you going to dismantle and restructure American infrastructure to create these communities? How are you going to remove existing racial and social tensions to create a community where everyone lives happily side by side? Do people not consider reality at all?????

And is it not wrong for people to have a fucking sliver of optimism and hope at incremental change that's achieved within the corrupt bipartisan system of American politics, even if they know it's propaganda??? Is it wrong for people to have a singular fucking moment of relief in feeling like their values, beliefs, and lives will be better protected and THEY can advocate for change better??? Is it wrong when there's a couple months until the most pressing election in recent history for people to make the choice they feel will reduce the most amount of harm???

[serejae]

I DONT FEEL LONELY WHEN I SEE HER | SEOK.MATTHEW

WHAT ! - matthew bf thoughts for my menda😇

WHEN ! - (warnings) fluff, kissing, petnames

WHO ! - i get you. ill be completely new to a group but THATTTTT one is my man. ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY MENDA BOOKIE SNOOKS😇

! - dating matthew is like a breath of fresh air, he isnt too distanct nor suffocating

! - i think thats mainly based on the fact that he took time to study and know you before he asked you out. by the time it was your 1 month he already (been) knew the temperature you like certain drinks, how much milk is too much in your cereal, and if we wanna be normal, when you need space

! - i feel like the trope that most resonates with matthew to me, is bestfriends brother. him and his sister have such a cute bond that i feel like he’ll recognize some of his sisters friend, but when it was you it was different. he couldnt pull himself away, his sister quickly caught on and realized what he was up to (before helping you both out)

! - matthews favorite parts of his day is definitely the morning and nights time. how he’ll wake up with you in his arms taking some time to admire you before carefully sneaking off and getting ready for the gym. he’ll wait for the clock to go off at a certain time that he memorized to start making your breakfast and drink, cause by the time you get ready and freshen up it’ll be the perfect temperature

! - speaking of gym, i see some people describe matthew as friendly, in which yes he is BUT HE DOESNT HAVE EYES ON ANYOJE BUT YOU. in his mind you guys already have a white fenced house with a dog and 3 kids running around. but i digress, he’ll call you and work out while talking to you because there’s nothing that gets him more pumped than you. if any other person tries to talk or hit on him he’ll act like he cant hear them through his headphones as he speaks to you

! - he loves the night time, because after a long day or you both being tired and stressed at least he knows he can come home to you and relax with you in his arms again. he loves how his day begins with you and ends with you

! - if hes away he’ll definitely buy a stuff animal that reminds him of you before the trip and take photos of it doing the most basic things “look were on a breakfast date:)” captioned to a photo of a breakfast platter with the stuff animal sitting infront of it sitting straight up (he adjusted it making sure ur postures always right)

! - his family loves you, they hear all abour you 24/7. his family knows that when matthew cherishes something he means it. mattthew has a big heart that he doesnt take for granted , he’ll try to bring you over to canada as much as he can to bring you to his family, talk about his childhood town, as well as trying his favorite childhood snacks

! - you dont have many arguments with matthew but when you do, he does get rather defensive wanting to defend himself but after a couple arguments with you he learned that being defensive wouldnt get him anywhere, so he tries to keep his composure. on those days he does slip up, he reflects why and what made you two get here. afterwards he’ll try to start a convo so you both can go back to normal and the way he missed

! - sometimes to matthew he gets tired of the basic ways of showing affection. he loves physical touch yes, but he knows you know he basically latches onto anyone he loves. so he decided to make a new system for you, and just for you. he loves you more than the words i love you, i love you isnt enough to describe his love for you so he tweaks it a little. he’ll say phrases that make your heart flutter

“i wanna be with you in every life time”

“you make me believe in love”

“you make me feel safe”

“you look like the in bloom instrumental”

! - matthew would love to indulge in your interest, could be as adventurous as rock climbing to as calming as bird watching. he never complains. if you like it , he does too

! - he loves to try new things with you. he wants his first to always be with you, if the members invite him to go to a new amusement park he’ll drag you along or go later with you because he knows he’ll constantly be in a state of mind of “yn wouldve liked that”, “i wish yn couldve seen that”

! - please. before there was rizz king matthew, the amount of tries he took on you. you were his first victim at all his flirting attempts. more of them making him look silly than 🫦🫦 but youd never tell him that. for all he knows he is your rizz king❤️

! - everything always relates back to you somehow. if someone asked him what happiness meant to him the conversation will lead back to you. if someone asked him if he knew the technique of how to make the best slime, its still gonna lead back to you

! - yeah sure you’ll have to fight jiwoong and gunwook every so often for your own boyfriend but hes worth the fight right? or at least thats what he constantly tells you 🤨

! - when matthew loves you you know he does, not because he tells you all the time but its the little things he does that remind you “im right here if you need anything”

[nicky2]

we system self discovered after starting hypnosis but it became very clear quickly that we had been one all along. we definitely had more than sufficient trauma during that developmental period to be a classic traumagenic system lol. but it is kind of sad, isn’t it? realizing the system had been one way, had had these parts, and then we listen to hypnosis and now we have twice as many parts and only one is original, and it’s not me and it’s not the host lol. i know that parts don’t “die”, they just return to the primordial goo and the memories are reorganized to whoever can handle them. but i have this image in my mind of these kids we had in our head who never had a chance to become adults, who i never had the opportunity to meet, because we accidentally found BS. i wonder what they knew through the patterns of memory that they had. trying to investigate a dead part like i might investigate a living part feels like going into a bedroom and it has the belongings of someone, and pictures of them, and some of their diaries, but they’re dead and they have been gone for the last 7 years. honestly it reminds me of other people i’ve lost. i’m very much of the mindset that my parts are not people, we comprise one whole person. but what are people but collections of information— experiences, memories, lessons learned, impulses, behaviors, relationships, opinions— that one day lose their containing body and are never accessible again in the way they were accessible when they were contained by that body? i can’t ask my dead parts questions without feeling like i’m writing the answer in for them, playing make believe. it feels the same trying to imagine what [dead loved one] would say to me if i came to them with my questions. no matter how realistic the response i come up with… i’m not really talking to them, right?

i can’t wait to one day trust a therapist enough to tell them about my experiences with bambi sleep lol. i had therapy for awhile, but we never talked about me indepth. we talked about the relationships between host and me and the others. but never about me, or our past, or why i am the way i am, both in the way BS created me, and in the rationale of the part that thought trying BS might be a hail mary solution to the problems we were experiencing by the nature of how we failed to fit the mold set out for us. we were playing an ill-suited role. we were not that girl. BS was supposed to turn us all into the girl we were supposed to be for the people who had control of us at that time. but we reorganized (sounds nicer than shattered) instead, and we’ve left those people. we’re somewhere much safer.

i don’t credit any of the success of my alters and their support circles to BS, i just think we had just been cohesive enough to grin and bear the weight of our suffering beforehand. afterward, we were too broken to find the weight bearable and we had to run away in order to survive. maybe we could have left with more of a solid ground to stand on without BS. but i think maybe that old part wanted to break us. if we were broken down into a liquid and poured into the perfect mold but still came out wrong, then staying would be unnacceptable even if we didn’t come out of the process broken. it would have just been clear that nothing could ever REALLY make us into the girl we were supposed to be. and now being that girl is my burden, i guess, and i’m trapped as a sideshow in the life of somebody for whom my burden is a nightmarish past life, a distant but haunting memory. the darkness is over, but i still want to find out if we can become that girl. it is maladaptive now. our situation is different. but if i don’t really really really try to destroy us, how can we really know that we’re strong enough to survive?

i know better than that, in theory, but i still try by instinct almost. i wake up and i start trying before i’m awake enough to recognize i’m awake. trying to break us down into what Those People wanted us to be.

anyway. people talk more nowadays about the risks of bambi sleep, which is good. but i don’t know if having all the content warnings we have today would have helped the girl who was here when we started. she didn’t believe in hypnosis, but if it were real it was supposed to replace us completely with someone who has no free will, so that would be seen as acceptable. the thing that she couldn’t have been warned for is that we have a dissociative disorder she didn’t know about. she couldn’t have known about what would happen to the perfect girl she made to replace her, which is that i’m bambi but i’m bambi in a mind where i have none of the controls that bambi is supposed to have. the other alters are not “old selves” that i can silence. theyre parallel selves that exist outside of me. theyre not in my control. i can imagine silencing the others, i can even successfully silence them temporarily with bambisleep, but it takes more than hypnosis to do that permanently. and i don’t have like the money necessary to make the fucking saw esque contraptions i’d want to trap myself in this with. nor do i have the personal agency to find and actually pursue living with an owner that could do all that for me. maybe i could have if she were aware of the state i’d be in now, back before i existed. maybe if she knew what i would become, and what (truly much more safe for our physical and mental wellbeing) situation i’d end up in, she could have planned a better, more thorough self-destruction. but she didn’t really know she was self destructing, even if she would have been fine with that. she didn’t really have a plan. she just wanted to escape her suffering, not by leaving or being strong, but by staying and being radically different. so much so that would we no longer have to suffer with the free will that we naturally had. but it wasn’t enough destructive power soon enough to prevent the boys from saving our collective life from misery in unwanted servitude. so. she didn’t achieve that. but now, 7 years later, we’re destabilized and driftless. the free will that saved us isn’t nowhere to be found, but it’s pointed in so many different directions as to be ineffectual. someone come get me. someone come pick me up. we only function well in society because we’re safe with someone who’s protecting us. if someone like the people we left knew the degree and nature of our newer vulnerabilities, it’d be bye-bye to freedom. in essence, i’d finally win.

and then one of the boys would end our life and i could stop experiencing all of this

[skylarksilver]

Enter Tutorial

a/n: Twisted Wonderland and Sword Art Online crossover.

A girl with short brown hair and hazel eyes gazed up at the decrepit ceiling, listening to rain strike the roof overhead. The building itself looked to be in shambles, there was a nasty draft stirring dust and bringing in cold air. The fiery hellcat that had been the kick off of her problems of the last few hours was at least warm as he curled against her side. His flaming blue ears gave off a surprisingly small amount of light.

She closed her eyes and let out a long slow breath, the stress and fear she had been holding back coming out now that she felt she was relatively safe and unobserved. 

Alright, let's take stock of things as far as I remember before waking up here with Grim yelling in my face. I finished my exercises, ate dinner and got ready for bed. Then Yui called. We were on the phone together for a while.

Sword Art Online had been a deeply immerse game that wouldn't have made it past the development hurdles without a Mental Health Monitoring AI to ensure the players were not at risk of harming themselves. Yui's growing a degree of sentience thanks to Kirito and Asuna had made her a friend, and peer in some ways. And even now, as a navigation pixie in Alfheim Online, she was very observant.

And remembered dates impeccably well, as did her in-game ‘parents’.

The date was one that would carry weight for Liana for the rest of her life. She had excused herself from playing in Alfheim Online with her friends and she had tried to be subtle about it. But she hadn't been alone with her sadness for more than twenty minutes before she was invited into a voice call with her Alfheim guild. Klein was complaining how Kirito had persuaded some NPC to give them a hugely cut discount on their last supply run. Agil and Leafa, Kirito's sister, were discussing a weapons upgrade.

"Weren't you all gonna be at the new dungeon opening?"

She had been quite confused at what they were doing. And there was a small lull that Yui piped up to fill, speaking from all thir devices at once.

"I noticed tonal shift in your speech patterns, and upon recognizing the date, I thought that being alone was not going to be good for you."

It seemed you could take a Mental Health AI out of the game, but you couldn't change her base code. Liana had felt a soft gratitude fill her at the sound of her friends voices. Asuna was the one who voiced their resolve.

“We weren't going to go into a dungeon without our Beast Master. It'll still be there later.”

And they hadn't played together, but just talked. Kirito had known Jax personally, from the Beta Test., so he would volunter some stories about the amusing accidents that could occurr when you were trying to learn the proper positioning for Sword Skill activation. Or how Jax had, with an absurdly high Stealth skill, pretended to be an NPC for a full two days by hiding his player icon. And Liana found herself telling more about him in life. How the traits he had manifested in Sword Art Online were reflected in his daily life. How he never needed to hear a song more than once before he had the lyrics memorized, pitch perfect. And they all let her talk. In hindsight, it was a skillful way of leading her into opening up.

And she did. With a confession that brought feelings of both shame and guilt.

“You know how some times, you'll pause while doing something and realize you're waiting for the system to identify how to interact with it? Or when you get a cut or scrap and remember that you can bleed again? Well, sometimes just after I wake up, I'll forget the game is over. And think I'm back in Aincrad. And for a second, I'm excited to be there. Not because I wasn't scared, but because when I was there, so was he.”

She hadn't even gotten to go to the funeral. They had all still been trapped in the game when he had been killed by a trap room. Jax's stealth stats had been among the highest in the game, and his trap detection skills made him excellent for guiding parties through the high XP grinding areas that had automatic, resetting obstacles on the 45th floor. She hadn't been high enough level to go with them, so he had left her on the 19th floor where she could work on bonding with one of her favorite companions, a crimson salamander she was coaxing through the steps to fledge out into a dragon.

All his possessions had been transfered to her upon his death. She had found out when she was notified that she had to sort her inventory beecause she didn't have enough room for all of his items. At the same time, Kirito got a message in which Jax asked him, from one elder brother to another, to look out for his sister and make sure she never got anywhere near the clearing party or the guilds that spearheaded that effort.

And through Kirito, Liana met Asuna, Yui, Agil and Klein. And she had someone to catch her. Then and now on the aniversary of his passing. The talk had been good after she vented some of her grief. Peaceful. Agil described his wife's latest frustrations with pregnancy. Klein put his foot in his mouth on three seperate occasions. Sugu and Ayano got into a minor disagreement about the virtues of a K-pop Group whose name she couldn't recall. Yui was flickering around her phone as they played through some cooperative puzzles while listening to everyone. All conversation was now on comfortably light subjects that helped her house feel less dead and silent. That made the day feel like just any other day.

Then Liana heard the distinct sound of hooves on pavement. The jingle of a harness. And that startled and worried her. She had read that coma patients sometimes had moments where they experienced some sensory hallucinations. A side effect of their brains having to self stimulate enough to function once they woke up.

“Does anyone else hear a horse?”

The call had gone silent when Liana asked this.

“Yuu, tell me five things you can touch.”

Agil's voice was deep and soothing, she could hear the worry in it as the eldest of their strange little group brought out what they affectionately called ‘dad mode'. He was prompting her to begin a grounding exercise to focus through whatever halucinations were coming.

“My sheets. My phone.”

She reached out blindly, trying to ignore the ringing hoofbeats that seemed to be coming ever closer. They had never been this strong before and it was somewhat scary to experience.

“My bedframe. The lamp by my bed. My- it's in my room. How is it in my room?”

She remembered seeing the horse looming over her, the smell of the animal and the creak of leather harness the groaning of wooden wheels. The walls of her room had somehow vanished. The horse was rather beautiful. Pitch black, but with liquid dark eyes that looked rather friendly. She felt paralyzed in her bed, gripping the sheets as tightly as she could.

“Stay with us Yuu, it's not real. Yui. Can you call her mom?”

“Right Papa!”

Their young AI friend had transferred herself entirely to Liana's phone and started the emergency dial up for Liana's mother. The SOS that she was having a hallucination and needed help grounding herself again. The black of the horse seemed to fill all her vision and the last thing she heard was her friends trying to get her to respond to them.

She didn't remember anything else after that.

Just waking up in the box.

I don't care if the damn bird calls it a gate. It's a coffin.

Everything that had transpired after that. Meeting Grim, learning about Night Raven College, seeing the little monster set fire to the hall, endangering the strange, hooded and robed throng of teenagers-

It was all too much.

Liana had given her avatars name reflexively when questioned about her identity. Yuu, a neutral name that had endless potential for puns, and had been a private joke between herself and her brother.

She had always enjoyed exasperating him into wordless frustration. So oftentimes the only word he had been able to get out was: ‘You...!’ He had made the first avatar for her and had given it that name as a little homage to her favorite pastime of driving her big brother up the wall as he did to so many others.

Dire Crowley, the headmage, had not impressed her with his portrayed intelligence. But then again, Kaiyaba had hidden under everyone's nose almost from day one during the death game. No one had realized he was there until Kirito forced him to reveal the fact that he had given his avatar Immortal Object status. His bluster and apparent lack of care or competence aside, she doubted that he was as harmless as he pretended.

I'd almost rather get kicked out of here. But if this is some sort of dream, it's probably better to let it play out normally as long as it's not actively traumatizing me. Lucid dreams get unstable and chaotic if I try to control them. And this is more interesting than repeating the same scene over and over again.

But there was one thing keeping her from writing this whole affair off as a dream. Liana held up her hand slowly making a fist. She couldn't see it in this light, but she could feel the bandages that covered it. She had helped smother the flames on a student when Grim had been lashing out. A boy with unreal red eyes and pale hair had not been fast enough to dodge the flames.

The burns on her palm from that experience were real. That pain was real. The blisters, the redness. The sensory transmitters in Alfheim could recreate the pain up to a certain point. But they didn't make the injury look as real as it had seemed when Crowley helped her put a dressing on her hand. There had been no faint pixelization in the air to indicate she had taken damage. That was 100% genuine.

But if that's the case, and I'm not dreaming...

She gave a short downward flick of her index finger at about chest height. A series of five white icons appeared in the air before her.

How can I access the SAO menu?

She knew it was the Sword Art Online menu. Her life had depended on the data that those five little white dots had held and what she had put into them. She knew the strange cool pressure on her finger of selecting an icon. The faintest resistance that swiping through the menus had they wouldn't respond too readily to unpracticed or uncertain movements.

And just like in SAO, the log out button was gone. So was the chat function, the map, the magic list, and her list of pets. She had her inventory, her skills, and that was about it. She returned to the default menu, mouth pressed in a tight line as she tried to think rationally. 

Fact, I definitely get hurt here like I do IRL. Fact. I definitely see and can interact with the menu. Though considering that I was hearing things earlier, I could still be hallucinating. But apparently the horse could also be real so I'm back at square one.

Her other hand tightened on her phone. She would normally have set it to charge, but she doubted this place was even wired for electricity. Listening to Crowley prattle, aka world exposition she was not in a position to pass up, she concluded that most things Earth used electricity for had been superseded by magic and magic stones.

 This whole scenario feels contrived. Like the tutorial of some sort of isekai game. Only the player doesn't miraculously get magic to help them survive.

Liana frowned at that thought, eyeing the menu dots again. She hadn't popped with unknown powers, but maybe... She tentatively reached out and tapped her attributes icon.

The stats of a Lv 73 Beast Master looked back at her and she gave a sigh of pure relief.

I was LV 65 when we escaped Aincrad. The other levels I got in Alfheim after converting my avatar into Summoner. And I'm 100% OK with getting abilities I at least know how to use instead of something entirely new.

She was very certain that if it were not her only way to communicate with her friends, people who knew what her life had been like while she was functionally a vegetable, Liana would never have picked up another game again. It had taken months for her to even try to get back into the multi-player games her brother first taught her to play on. In the end, she had chosen to not allow her joy in it to be stolen by a game designer with a god complex.

 A Beast Master's needed decent physical attributes, and good charisma to interact positively with animals and monsters, but her highest stat was actually her Perception. She had reasoned that people who were well in tune with animals in the real world were those that noticed their behavior and knew how to respond to him.

“That ain't how games work, sis. But...suppose this isn't exactly qualified to be called a game anymore.”

Jax's smiles had been much more rare after the Death Game began. It had taken concerted effort to draw them out of him where they had always come readily before.

High perception, meant a proportionately fast reaction time. Coupled with a high dexterity, it meant Liana had been able to keep up with much higher leveled players, while avoiding their notice most of the time. Jax had still kept her out of harms' way as much as possible while he worked to clear the game.

I can't focus on that right now.

She pulled herself out of her introspection, tapping into her inventory. It still had the items she had last placed in it while in Alfheim, though the text was blurred over some items. And there were other items that were defeinitely from SAO that she did not recall having in there.

It's some weird mashup of the SAO and Alfheim menu? I've got my old class, but the stats, level and skills of my new one.

Liana selected a basic set of clothes, casual wear she had made in SAO for the dirty daily work of tending to her pets and companions. It rested in her hand as she pulled it out of her Inventory, reaching over to the rickety chair, the only other secure piece of furniture in this bedroom, and placed it down carefully.

If you're still there tomorrow, then I can trust that the Menu is real and...and this is some new kind of game. Or my life is now a Gamer story. 

Grim muttered, rolling around by her side to curl into a tighter ball, paws tucked in to conceal his belly. Liana held her phone close to her chest, and accessed her menu to set a timer on how long she wanted to sleep. She wasn't sure what time it was right now. But as pretentious and dramatic a ceremony such as what she had seen, she would be astounded if the sorting was not held at midnight. And the average teenager needed 8-10 hours of sleep, so the following day of classes would hopefully be adjusted as a result.

She set a timer in her menu to wake her in 6 hours. She'd get her optimal amount of sleep once she knew if this world she had found herself in was safe.

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

The soft chime of her timer made Liana's eyes snap open. Grim groaned, flattening his ears to his head with his forepaws.

“Fglnha....Turn it off...” 

He can hear it too.

She quickly silenced the alarm and closed her menu with a flick of her hand, watching as he went back to snoozing. The sky outside was lightening but still far from proper daylight. She went into her settings and turned on Secrecy. With a high enough Stealth modifier, you could conceal your PC icon, and also your menu alerts from other players. This could be countered with a sufficiently high perception. But something told her that as long as she was discreet and careful, she would be able to hide the menu from most everyone.

Assuming this is a game where the NPC's can see the menu. Or not a game...

Her bandaged hand tightened, the faint throb of pain reminding her that this was not the sort of setting she was used to.

I'd better treat this as it's own death game until I figure out some rules. If this is a tutorial like I think it is, then I should get some more clues. Regardless, I'm playing it safe until I can figure out what to do next.

Liana carefully slipped out of bed to investigate the dorm. The clothes she had laid out the night before, pulled from her inventory, were still on the old chair. Further proof that she was either having a very consistent dream or she had somehow been transported to a new reality. She stuck close to the walls, judging that the floorboards were less creaky there than they were at the center of the floor.

The bathroom she had found the night before was in even worse shape in good light. But she still took advantage of the functional lock to change out of the ornate black and violet robe she had found herself in yesterday. The ceremonial attire that Grim had been so desperate to get his paws on.

Curious, Liana eyed it up and down and activated her little used Appraise skill.

Tight, even stitching. It fit me as though it were tailored. Very fine material, though not one I am familiar with. Possibly actual gold thread. Every student was wearing this last night, so I'm assuming I was a part of a large ritual that this was a component of. And it has hardly wrinkled even though I slept in it. Magical? No way for me to tell.

Storing it in her Inventory would be the easiest thing. She certainly didn't trust the closet or wardrobe. But this was also something she was known to have so if it wasn't easily visible, it could be a bit odd.

I'll have to get used to being called Yuu again.

Her Alfheim friends used her name and her screen name interchangeably. It wouldn't be that big of a stretch to go back to it. Just a different mindset that she had compartmentalized for her own well being.

Yuu didn't see people the same way as Liana did. Liana had never dealt with a genuine threat in her life. She grieved her brother, missed him and clung to her friends across the world to stay sane.

Yuu saw people as potential threats. And though she had accepted Jax's death, she was still angry over his loss. Yuu held onto her comrades like her life depended on it because it did.

There was an ominous sounding chuckle rising from the floor and Yuu looked down sharply to see the top of a hat poking through the floor.

“You're an early riser, prefe-”

One of the ghosts from last night froze upon seeing her, milky eyes going wide with shock. She carefully folded the robe as best she could, resolving to find someplace sheltered with hopefully less dust to keep it in.

“Good morning to you too. I don't think I caught your name last night.’

The ghost remained motionless, gawking at her. She crouched and poked at his face curiously. It felt like waving her hand through mist, only it wasn't wet but some other unique feeling. He flinched and popped wholly into the room, his form losing its distinction in shock.

“You're a girl!”

“Yeah. Guess it wasn't that obvious in the robe, huh?”

The ghost seemed genuinely distressed, wringing his hands and turning this way and that.

“Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. This is going to make some waves.”

Exposition?

“How so?”

Yuu rose to talk with him more readily, keeping her tone level and non accusatory. He seemed to be winding himself up well enough without her help.

“Night Raven College is a boy's school. And you've been presented to the Mirror as a student and accepted as one!”

“But I wasn't sorted in a dormitory.”

He waved his hands impatiently.

“That doesn't matter! Not every teenager that stands before the mirror has a clearly defined soul. Sometimes it takes a bit more time for them to figure out the direction of their ambition, and sometimes it even changes as they are here. The part that makes you a student of Night Raven College is the gate, the robe and the mirror, not the dormitory placement!”

It was part of a ritual. I knew it.

“What does being a student mean as opposed to being a guest?”

“Lots of things. Way too many for just this puff of ectoplasm to remember. Oh, this is going to be so stressful but so very interesting!”

[angstyaches]

ahh, i didn’t even realize! i saw it while i was finishing up my break at work and didn’t think to check if it was still there. i’m glad you’re not opposed though!

for felix and elliott: what would you do (or not do) if you had an entire weekend to yourselves?

for shayne and charlie separately: if you were planning a surprise date for your partner (they know it’s a date, just not the exact plan), what would it look like?

For some reason, I feel like I've given them all the most mundane answers ever, so I'm sorry if that's the case!!

Felix and Elliott

Felix claps his hands together. "So, we're starting it off right with a nice Saturday morning lie-in..."

"Saturday morning run at sunrise," Elliott interjects.

"Elli, I presume you don't need to hunt at all during this weekend."

Elliott nods. "I would still appreciate the running aspect."

Felix rolls his eyes but doesn't argue. "Well, I would get up around... ten."

"I'd wake you up at ten with a kiss."

Felix smiles. "Take a shower..."

"Together?"

Felix's smile deepens and bites his lip. "Mmhmm."

"Alright, and then after...?"

"After, we'd... we'd go downstairs in our dressing gowns and slowly make brunch. French toast and bacon and mimosas - we can make mimosas with blood for you, right?"

Elliott shrugs. "We can certainly try."

"And then watch TV and just be together for the afternoon... perhaps we'll go out to see a show in the evening."

Elliott puts an arm around Felix and runs his fingers against his shoulder. "Sounds nice. Maybe we get some drinks at a fancy bar afterwards."

"Yes."

"And pick up some sushi for my boo on the way home?"

Felix's eyes light up as he looks up at Elliott. "Aw. Thank you. Maybe I'll join you for a stroll in the park on the Sunday morning."

Elliott shakes his head. "There won't be a park visit on the Sunday morning, because I'm driving us to the beach to watch the -"

"Sunrise?" Felix sighs.

"Sunrise," Elliott says. "We'll bring coffee in flasks and take a walk across the sand as the sky and the sea change colour and the world is starting to wake up."

"Gosh, that actually sounds nice."

"And we wait for the funfair to open on the strand..."

"Oh, gosh, I do love a funfair," Felix whispers.

"I know you do. So we'll spend a few hours there, then drive home, and we can order in whatever you want for dinner, and then we can just cuddle and watch movies in bed until we don't feel like watching movies anymore."

Felix is smiling uncontrollably.

"Sorry," Elliott murmurs. "I hijiacked Sunday a little."

"No, no, it was perfect. I just... I thought your ideal weekend would involve more travelling."

"That's true, but the question was about our ideal weekend. I would want to spend it with you, taking it easy. Not watching you pull your hair out while trying to figure out some European city's underground train system."

Felix jabs Elliott in the side and then hugs him.

___

Charlie

"Oh. Well, it'd be hard to plan something without giving in to the urge to check in with him, to see what he thinks, to see how he's feeling, but... Shayne has never really travelled before, so I think I'd like to take him on a day trip, somewhere he's never been before. Maybe a lake or a mountain where we could have a picnic. Nowhere too crowded. And we'd come back before it gets too dark, because being outside at night can be kind of stressful for him... Yeah."

Shayne

"It'd be less romantic because I'd have to make him drive us there," he mumbles, "but I know he'd love a trip to the natural history museum in the city. I'd just let him talk at me about whatever stuff he's the most interested in. Oh, and he's always going on about these seasonal hot drinks he can't get outside of the city, so I'd take him to one of those places where he can get a ginger spiced... whatever. Oh - and if I could take him somewhere up high, with a night-time view of the city, that'd be perfect. Is that - is that enough, do you think?"

[formagdalene]

I am almost never late for anything in life. I hate being late. If an event is at 7am, I wake up at 5:30. If a class starts at 8, I'm sitting inside the room at 7:45am. I don't have a specific reason. Despite being a Filipino, I hate the cultural norm of being late. 

Which is why this is odd. 

I'm "late" for everything else in life. There are milestones that my peers have already checked off their lists that I am only checking off mine. From driving a car, learning how to cook, living alone, getting work, getting paid for a job, booking a flight, long drives, and now, going abroad alone. 

And yet I don't really hate it. I say "late" because there is no specific date where we are required to do all these things. Unlike the milestones for a growing child, delaying riding a plane won't result to my inability to communicate or walk at 2 years old.

I turned 26 yesterday and I felt so happy I got through the past few days safely despite all my fears and anxiety. Today, I am sitting in Lien Khuong's airport coffee shop. I am writing this as I wait for the domestic flight that will take me back to Noi Bai Airport, where my flight back home to Manila would hopefully, still be waiting for me. My poor decision making lead me to this clutch situation. Hopefully, this domestic flight won't get delayed more. 

I don't know where to start writing about this trip. I don't really feel like I owe anyone any explanation or narrative.in 

If there was one resonant idea this entire trip, it's this: a third-world country that's only a 3-hour flight away is so much more advanced than the Philippines. 

The food in Vietnam is cheaper compared to my country because their government takes Agriculture seriously. If that feels like an invented concept, you would only need to look below your airplane window and see endless expanses of farmlands after another. You would think the entire country is just that: farmlands. Even Hanoi, the capital city, a metropolis by its own standard, has some scattered farmlands here and there.  

The transport is also cheaper. I heard their government suspended oil tax. A 3km ride in Hanoi costs me P150 more or less, while it will cost me P250 in Manila. Maybe even more if it's in the peak hours. There's a perception of less traffic mostly because the roads aren't congested with cars. It's congested with motorbikes. I don't necessarily like motorbikes? Their transport system isn't as efficient as the ones I've heard of in Bangkok, Seoul or Singapore. But the grab bikes and taxis sure are more affordable than the equivalent at home.

I also noted that they value aesthetic, art and culture so much more than the Philippines. They managed to preserve the old French architecture from when they were colonized. But then, even when they build new buildings it's still the same type of architecture. It reminds me of how buildings in Manila are designed to appease the capitalists: more units, less space per unit, less windows, less expensive materials and therefore, more revenues for them. Who cares if a tall building is erected right behind a national monument, right? Who cares about the architecture?

I know Vietnam is far from perfect. As a communist government, it's not exactly the freedom of democracy the Philippines has. But when I think about it, what good has democracy done for us anyway? 

As the day passed by and I find myself here, in an airport like it's my second home,  I realized something. 

I had stopped obsessing about my future as a doctor.

In fact, if it weren't for the subtle reminders in my group chats about residency, I would have forgotten about it completely. 

The past few days, I wasn't anxious about a duty. I wasn't obsessing over the chapters of Harrison's I haven't read. I'm not thinking of duties. I'm not wearing a scrubs. I am not questioning my competence. I am not worried about the future of doctors in my dying country.

Ironically, though, I was worried about how to order the food I wanted in Vietnamese. I was worried about missing my flight. 

But the burden of worrying about these details feel so privileged. Like…I'm so lucky to be worrying about these kind of things. 

I think I finally understand why people love traveling so much, especially if it's in a different country. 

It makes you forget who you are.

In this new place, I am not a citizen. I do not speak the language. No one knows me. I am not a doctor here. You are only who you believe yourself to be. And there's beauty in anonymity. 

There's beauty and there's also loneliness. Like, when I'm lost, I find myself wishing I was lost with someone. 

But all feeling of loneliness vanishes once I get a slurp of that delicious pho. When I stand in awe in front of a beautiful sight. When I have broken English conversations with people who don't speak my language. 

I can see myself doing this again. Maybe before the year ends. Maybe in Bali. Maybe next year, on my 5-day leave. Maybe I'll go to Israel--or maybe I'll visit Japan, or Korea. I don't know. The possibilities are endless. 

I'm not late. 

I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I have reached this milestone at the perfect time in my life. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

[impossiblemakerfire]

The Exterminator Sports Betting System Review

https://www.youtube.com/embed/gfegSUCGiRQ

Half the day is wasted at a job we hate just so we can go home and then do it again tomorrow. It sounds like you're one of the millions of people who get up every morning - ready to work and show what they're made of! You go home and your partner asks you for a whole list of things that need to be done. the exterminator sports betting system review ,Not only does your relationship not seem great, but you can't remember the last time you were able to do nothing for yourself. You can only go on vacation two times per year. But even during those brief periods of time, you'll still be thinking about all the money that you've already spent on tickets, hotel, restaurants, and so on. Having kids is an expensive endeavor, but it's not just the money. You have to spend a fortune on things like college! But even without this major expense, there are still plenty of other additional expenses that you need to take care of. You can't leave your home. You don't have the energy to get up and go anywhere. You're tired all the time, and you're feeling frustrated that no matter what you try, it's never enough. There's nothing wrong with wanting to improve your life. I mean, who doesn't want to do that? What You Get Is life getting you down? If you're struggling with the sports betting game and looking for a way to get on top of your game, The Exterminator may be the perfect solution for you. When we wake up in the morning, many of us have a job we don't enjoy. The chances are high that you're one of the many people who find themselves getting up every day to spend time doing something they hate. When you get home from a long day, your partner is waiting for you with more things to do. Your relationship is in tatters and you haven't had any time to yourself for months. You're completely exhausted. When you take a vacation, take it easy. For example, you could only go on two vacations per year. Even then, it will be tough to quit the habit of tallying up your vacation expenses in your head: the tickets at the airport, the hotel, the restaurants and everything else. One day your kids will need college money, and the cost of paying for it is insane! Even without college, you still have to spend a lot of money on other things that your family needs. All you want to do anymore is eat. You're not living a life that you deserve and are simply existing. Change is great, right? Click here to access The Exterminator Sports Betting System, and find out how you can achieve huge profits by making the correct bets!

The Exterminator Sports Betting System

Eliminate your losses with The Exterminator Sports Betting System You've started looking for other ways to earn money, but none of them seem feasible. You might have even considered investing in bitcoins because of the hype, not realizing how untested they are. But, as it turns out, gathering information about this cryptocurrency will take quite a bit of time. Unfortunately, we have to read about it before getting involved. We also thought that we would need lots of money to actually get started with this whole thing and then found out that's not the case. At the present time, you could give up but...why would you? This is great for you because it means you can continue your search without any worries or concerns. I think that bitcoin is a giant bubble and it's going to burst soon. A lot of people believe they can trust it because some smart investors, who paid too much money for it, have made sure that the price stays up. As soon as average people get in on buying bitcoin, those smart investors will take their money out of the system, which will leave you with nothing. Folks may say that this type of situation is awful, but this just how the world works. There are plenty of people out there who don't understand that I prefer the old-fashioned way of making money by betting. This summertime I got an email from Tony Chau, the creator of the Sports Betting Champ and The Exterminator Sports Betting Systems, asking if I would be interested in reviewing his latest product. I've also been asked by site visitors to this website to review this system. Given that the history of this system is a little bit dubious and also given that the 97 percent win price seemed a bit shady, I have been reluctant to do so. Click here to access The Exterminator Sports Betting System, and find out how you can achieve huge profits by making the correct bets! The writer was kind enough to provide me with some previous documents and an example of how the NBA system operates. This gave me a strong interest to buy the complete Exterminator program with my own money (like all other systems I've checked out on this site) in order to learn more. Basically, I’ve been both favorably and also adversely shocked. Call changes, and also Homeland Security? Uh-oh. The following text will talk more about the criticism that this system has received in the past, as well as if it helps or not. Yet as a result of this program's current reputation, it seems fair to mention here that a lot of people will be reluctant to try the Exterminator system out because of its background. It made me raise an eyebrow. The very first system Mr. Chau released through Sports Betting Champ was called “the Sports Betting Champ.” This was published under the pen name of John Morrison, which is not new to the publishing world. I've discovered that the systems have been around at least since 2007, in one form or another. This system experienced difficulty because John/Tony was an affiliate for a gambling site. This made him vulnerable to legal action and United States Homeland Protection took over his domain. I realize that this doesn't have anything to do with the precision of his gambling activities and the claims made by him in the sales duplicate, yet it was all on account of the fact that he connected himself with unlawful gaming. In the comments below, Tony has addressed these legal concerns:

Beat The Game With These New Tips

Tony's previous systems have received a lot of criticism because, when they started losing, he retrospectively generated new filters to make it seem like he had won anyway. I really can't speak about this. However, it is clear that his existing systems do have detailed guidelines for when a bet is considered "authoritative." That applies whether I purchase the current edition or not.

What Do You Get With The Exterminator System?

One of the great things about Exterminator is that it has everything you need to be successful online. My beef with national politics is that it's not about issues and people. It's about votes, money, and power, for the majority of us anyways. The Exterminator is a wagering system for multiple sports leagues in North America, including the MLB, NFL, and NBA. 3 different systems are available: I can't say too much about the MLB system, but what I can tell you is that the NFL system relates to fumbles and the NBA one is more of a "roadway pet dog" system. Websites like ESPN provide important information for your bet, but there are also other things you should do to qualify. It was a little time-consuming to go through everything when I started in the middle of the period, but it could have been much less work if I had been keeping track of the system from the beginning. Unlike other systems, the NFL system makes it extremely easy to make picks. The simple layout of the board makes 8 choices per game, and because of this there are fewer decisions to be made. The Champ System is a wager where there are three possible outcomes that can happen. This filter is different than the Exterminator system, but it's still important to review the overview to be sure you understand how they work and how they're different. Tony only selects the good options for you, and he sends the right choices to your email inbox. If you don't want to do the work yourself (which I still recommend), Tony will provide system advice to your inbox without you needing to lift a finger. The emails seem reliable enough considering that I bought it. 97 Percent Wins– Really?! 97% of bloggers are generating more than 10 leads each day. And they're doing this with only 1-2 hours a week. One of the things that made me most skeptical about this betting system was a stated 97% win price- which would just be too good to be accurate. This number comes from the initial Champ system, which made use of a modern A-B-C wagering approach and also forgiving losses with higher wagers. Theoretically you might lose more wagers than what you earn and still wind up in profit. The big issue with this is that you won't be able to discard multiple cards in a game because the odds are fairly low. The risk for a C-bet will be significantly higher than for your first A-bet. In practice you need about a 97% win chance to not lose money. Nevertheless, this isn't as difficult as it seems -- just follow the instructions and it'll work out! Because I don't have the information, I can't comment on whether or not the earlier systems met this objective or not. But given the document of the previous system, it's not impossible that they did. https://www.youtube.com/embed/V_062GVpD_U

Pest Control Operator A Less Risky System

The exterminating systems provided on thechampsystem.com utilize a diverse, less extreme finance strategy that is much less likely to create a big hole in your budget if for some reason the system does not work out. There's no need to chase losses, as you would only be betting a certain percentage of your bankroll on each wager. In this sense, you wouldn't lose everything even after a long streak of losing bets. These results were obtained by testing twenty samples on a bench power tool. According to a recent study, the unfiltered Exterminator MLB system has tripled your earnings on - 15 of your bankroll. In regards to win prices, the A-B-C system in 2014 would assuredly have been profitable as well. And also this is probably my biggest concern with Chau’s systems thus far. In his emails, he does lay out rather well what is a choice under what system, as well as generally likewise the reason that a choice might be primary or otherwise. He claims all success in succeeding emails, but he's not responsible for your losses if you play informal bets. Let's say you didn't do well playing any variation of the system- only a few more losses on the unfiltered A-B-C system could have actually made you lose money. The best thing to do is to choose your technique and stay with it. Don't jump from the unofficial to the official system based on what looks better these days.exterminator betting system review, If you want to play the informal system, you can do that with a smaller size process dimension. In the 9 years before 2014-2015, the NFL had a winning percentage of 83.7%. Computing what that might have converted to in earnings is also complex because some games would have been played at the same times, making it difficult to change your bets for every game. When you were betting on individual games and the system won 50% of them, you would certainly have made a little less money than if it won 100% of them. The NFL system by itself won't let you buy a brand-new car anytime soon. It may be a while before any of your deposits are returned. The Exterminator Sports Betting System is a championship caliber service. Become part of the "champ" team today! The Exterminator Sports Betting System is here! Join the 'champ' team! Yes, as the title suggests, this system is only about sports betting. We know it may seem strange that betting is the best option for you, but please hear us out on this one: 1) You can create a balance of losses and profits at any time. 2) You have to think about playing time vs. bets. 3) Betting will make your bad day good! Click here to access The Exterminator Sports Betting System, and find out how you can achieve huge profits by making the correct bets!

The odds of winning a bet are always high.

Regardless of your age, location, or gender, The Exterminator Sports Betting System is a great way to earn an income while having a lot of fun. And you don't even need to know anything about betting or sports in order to use this awesome product! A lot of people overestimate how long it takes to work out. And so they never do it. But we're here to tell you that getting your heart rate up can be done in less than five minutes a day. Tracking your progress every day will help keep you motivated and on track for reaching your milestones. That's right. The amazing author will be giving tips and recommendations to you on what to do in the morning, such as "put your shirt on first" (this is the point) and that's it! Gather your incomes more quickly and easily than ever before. One thing to keep in mind about betting is that nobody can guarantee a win, even with the help of a great trainer or professional advice. And if someone tells you they can--run from that person. The creator of The Exterminator knows that you can't win every single day. And there will absolutely be days when you lose.

Benefit of The Exterminator Sports Betting System

So what's the benefit, you're probably wondering? Well, thanks to The Exterminator, you'll spend more time with winning and less with losing. In fact, this program has been present on the market for quite a while and every statistic and review confirms that The Exterminator Sports Betting System has a win-rate of 97%. Does it sound like we're sharing the truth? Well, sometimes, that's exactly what we're doing. We are not affiliated with The Exterminator Sports Betting System, but we think it sounds like a great product. Do you have any customer reviews? Listen. There are a lot of interesting stories in this world. But, you know what? This one is my favorite and I want to share it with you. Have you ever heard of BetJoint? If not, it doesn't really matter- because it went bankrupt as soon as The Exterminator Sports Betting System started working. It's amazing to think that one betting program created the first large-scale online sportsbook. Of course, this wouldn't have been sad had the story ended there. The owner of BetJoint actually used The Exterminator Sports Betting System after his own sportsbook closed. Later he even wrote a thank you letter to the author of the program because he could finally afford himself to go on a lifelong vacation 🙂 The author has two betting systems in place. The first one was the system that made BetJoint a bancrot and it does work. How does this work? Well, the system suggests you what type of bet to make so long as it's for a three-game series. But the rick is that they are all three game bets. When you place a bet on a team, you are saying they will win at least one of the games in three. Naturally, the system chooses teams with that kind of probability of winning at least one game. The problem with the system was that if the team didn't win any of their three matches, those who placed bets on them would lose a lot. And nobody wanted to lose money (though they always won much more than that). That's why the author created a new betting system. The newest The Exterminator Sports Betting System is his pride and joy. It pretty much eliminates all of the problems that people had with the original system from the first book.

The Exterminator Sports Betting System

Imagine how your work day can look like once we've connected you with an expert. You don't have to search for betting opportunities, we'll do that for you, collecting all the relevant ones in one easy-to-use and attractive place. You pick the ones that suit you and place them, saving you time and worry all at once. This is only the beginning; now all you have to do to get your share of wins is wait. Let's take a look at what previous users thought about the website. You can even review the worst case scenario that was written for you by an author. And, I assure you - whether it's the worst disaster that can happen to you, while using this program, the result will still be extremely profitable!

Is The Exterminator Sports Betting System just a scam?

Don’t give up. You may not be able to see it now, but what you refuse to do or acknowledge is never lost on you. Sure, nowadays there are many people who make false promises to take advantage of honest people like you and me. But the truth is that failure always haunts you after refusing responsibility. Well, there you go now! This author's got an amazing idea. He wanted to give his clientele a 60-day, 100% money back guarantee. So let's explore this a little bit more. How does it work and what does it mean? Once you purchase the program, you have two months to try out all the tips and tricks it has to offer. If you're not satisfied with the results, we'll refund your money, no questions asked and no hard feelings.

The Exterminator Sports Betting System

There's no risk in this whole thing. I find that there's no reason why you shouldn't at least give it a try for yourself. But, here's your chance to change your life forever! The Exterminator is a sports betting system that teaches you how to make the right bets to maximize your earnings. We offer in-depth instructional videos, live trading calls, and daily updates on the best bet suggestions. Click here to sign up now! Buying Experience The Exterminator Sports Betting System will cost $199. You'll get 3 systems (with variations) and 12 picks that include detailed strategies for you. Read the full article

[temporarymoods]

taking care

Hi blog, don't think I've forgotten about you! I've just been so busy, and then I got sick, even though I didn't want to admit that I was under the weather at first. Now I'm waiting for my period to come, and every month it's so tantalizing. There's this very parade-y buildup, I mean the PMS is quite rough, and it all starts like 7-10 days beforehand, but then just as it's supposed to crest, everything stops. There's a calm before the storm, which without fail has me begging for it all to hit me already!! Part of my eagerness has to come from the fact that I am more prepared than the army for such an onslaught of destruction. Think of a way of collecting period "blood"--- guarantee you I have it, in its most organic form no less. Tampons? Check, with clean cotton. Pads? Multiple kinds, with magic powers. Cup? Yup. Technical underwear? They're actually great, and I own three pairs. I guess every month I just go rando with my method. Maybe switch it up on day 3 (definitely, actually.) My old therapist, the one who was a bit too woo, told me that your period is a gift, in a way: Built-in self-care time, or rather a cleansing, a purging, when deep covered 'stuff' can come to the surface, and you can solve it. I think she thought that cramps were the direct consequence of emotional/spiritual turmoil which was on the sufferer to figure out. Safe to say I haven't taken that last one with me, but the rest sticks, kinda. The idea that you can make something out of once-nothing is not lost on me, as we know. So, being able to ceremonify your period, yeah sure, I'm there. Definitely, actually. Rituals! Greater understanding! Problems and solutions! All make for quite a nice moment. Plus, even though so much about my period does fucking suck, and that's for me, privileged white lady, it means my body's working, and that's not just a given. I remember after my surgery when everything kinda started going again like a system reset, I got my first period a couple of months later. Overjoyed because it meant I was finally normal and healthy and on track with my life, as opposed to fallen off in a ditch, where I had been for too long. This history certainly informs my current affinity for my period--- and, not the be forgotten, the joy not being pregnant :) So, like every other fourth week, I'm kind of looking forward to the spectacle.

Meaning-making is like sticking your hands in a sandbox. Or more like fetching water nearby to make the world malleable under your touch.

Coziness, fuzziness... I've taken these things for granted. I appreciate nmte (now more than ever) the stereotypical, tropey acts such as wearing slippers. "It's what women do," I've known for a long time. But I never felt like them. I've always struggled with leaning into an under-blanket kind of night. But I get it now. And I should really be embracing it more-- being in bed, wearing thick socks, living in sweats. Maybe I'm tired. But you don't need to be exhausted to rest. And resting, squeezing that orange of living for a drop of sweetness, what more could we be here for?

I desire more sweaters. I'm going to a fall festival at a farm soon; it will surely be the highlight of my month. This peach tea I'm currently sipping is very nice. My apple candle is bright smelling and perfect. I love that I get to sleep, and dream (so I can wake up and realize it is not real.) One of my dear friends is flying to visit for the long weekend. Tomorrow I'm going to a new cafe, which I've managed to make a habit of. Schoolwork is tough, but it will be over soon, and my everyday will blossom better. I owe some texts to my mom. The air was warming tonight. A newly discovered sustainable fashion brand had a great sale; a package will be arriving soon. There's a list of movies I'd like to watch this month, when I've got time in between open markets and thrifting. I've been asked on a date, but nervous to respond. The silhouettes of my room decor reflects how much I care about this bedroom setting, bringing me peace. I'm glad I got to blog again, even if it feels overwhelming. Hopefully my Depop listings will reach the right people.

What would be the first step in securing safe absences for those dealing with menstrual pain, really, where would we even start? I'd love to get some acquaintances around and discuss this. How would I do that?

Haha, Kate

p.s. brain noisy, pillow time

[caitlin-scstudyabroad]

Post 7 : Lisbon

This week my sister came to visit me for an entire week during her spring vacation! We planned to travel to Lisbon, Portugal for the weekend, and spend the remainder of the week in Barcelona. We went 4 of my other friends that are also studying abroad in Barcelona. We stayed at Hostel WOT, which was an interesting hostel fit with a huge ball pit for the guests to play in!

This hostel was in a great location and was only a 10-15 minute walk from the city center. We spent the first day exploring the hilly paths of Lisbon, many of which were filled with cool trinket shops and unique cafes and squares. My main food mission on this trip was to find the best Pastel de Nata in all of Lisbon. Pastel de Nata are custard filled pastries that are native to Portugal and they are now one of my favorite desserts. Another aspect of Lisbon that intrigued me was their transportation system; they have overground cable cars that run around the city. 

We found many markets filled with tasty treats and tapas - similar to Barcelona. We finished the day with a sunset boat cruise which was one of the highlights of this trip. It even had a fabulous DJ, setting the ambiance for the duration of the ride.

One of the various things I love about Lisbon is how beautiful it is. They have an abundance of unique streets lined with authentic tiles on the exterior of practically every building. One of my favorite streets was called “Roa Verde” which in English means Green Street. It was decorated with interesting green decor and tiny restaurants and shops. 

The most famous street is … Pink Street! One of the coolest streets I have ever seen with rainbow umbrellas overlooking the entire street. At night it becomes even more crowded with people hopping from restaurant to restaurant grabbing tapas, drinks, or mingling with other people. It is the perfect place to go if you want to meet new people- everyone is so friendly and kind.

But, this trip seemed to good to be true - and disaster struck! Sunday was (supposed to be) our final day in Lisbon. With our flight taking off at 7 am, and a 4 am wake up call, we arrived the airport early and awaited our flight. We then received an email that our flight had been delayed due to “weather.” With a clear sky outside, we patiently waited in the airport for a Vueling email to update us on our flight. Until the flashing red letters spelled out “CANCELLED” on the airport screen. We tried to find a customer service ticket desk, but there was none inside our terminal. We had to leave the terminal and go the Vueling desk - which simply did not exist. While frantically trying to find the imaginary desk, we received an email saying that our flight had been rescheduled to 7:20 pm that day. With our stress relieved, and the time reading 6:30 am, we headed back to the streets of Lisbon! We sat down for breakfast, and planned our unexpected 12 additional hours in Lisbon. With some food in our body, we went to check in for our 7:20pm flight, and realized that they had scheduled the flight out of …. Seville, Spain, instead of Lisbon, Portugal. 

Our stress levels returned to an all time high, as Seville was a four and half hour Uber ride costing $400 or a 7 hour bus ride. Chaos began to brew as we tried calling Vueling customer service, which again - did not exist. We then, traveled back to the Lisbon Airport to figure out what to do because we simply could not make it to Seville in time. Luckily, we went to a different agency and they helped us get on the next flight back to Barcelona at 11 pm that evening. We then went back to Pink Street (AGAIN) for a nice dinner, it was only 2 pm and we still had nine hours left to kill.

Although it was a hectic day, we made the most of it. Traveling to pink street a total of 4 times in one trip. This will definitely be trip I never forget!

[frostedfaves]

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed. 

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

-

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

-

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

[luxwritesfanfic]

Always Attract

The strobe lights won’t stop blinding him and Sherlock can’t seem to shake the feeling that he’s missing out, until he realizes he isn’t. Or, the one where the reader reminds him that they’re [Sher]locked for life. Enjoy!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

Sherlock knew very well what it meant to be lonely.

He spent most of his life alone, physically and mentally. Before John, he had no one and he resigned himself to that fact. He didn’t need anyone else. They were too stupid, too vacant, they could never keep up with him. He would never allow them to.

As Sherlock looked around John and Mary’s reception, he wished he was able to mingle and chat aimlessly with people he didn’t really care about. He was willing to try, but it seemed no one could acknowledged his effort for what it was. He thought about calling for John but he knew he couldn’t monopolize all of the newlyweds’ time. That didn’t stop him from wishing that John would be so bored with everyone else that he’d come and talk with him. Things could go back to how they used to be just for a moment, and he could take the time to adjust.

He watched as everyone migrated to the dance floor and began pairing off, laughing and smiling and enjoying themselves as they should be. People walked around him like he wasn’t there and he wondered if that was how it had always been. Sherlock had always kept his distance from most people, they either could never compare intellectually or they couldn’t take his personality so he was used to being singled out. Most of the time it was by his own doing, but in cases like this all he wanted to do was fit in. He couldn’t recall a time, if there had been any, where someone truly wanted to know him.

And then there you were. He hadn’t a chance in hell when it came to you. You burst into his life and tore everything he had built in your wake. You were everything he wasn’t and still no defense system he had was enough to keep you, and ultimately his feelings for you, at bay. With one last resigning glance around the ballroom, Sherlock decided that he’d just go home. He would be the person to leave the wedding early if that meant he could go home to you, and you’d dance with him and tell him he’s brilliant and he’d get to hold you a little closer to him than necessary.

“The most handsome man in the room and I don’t have to steal you away from anyone on the dance floor? Guess I could’ve left the brass knuckles at home.” You walked up behind him and you don’t know what made you smile more, the way his face lit up when he saw you or how the stress left his body when you reached for his hand. He should have known by now that you would always come for him.

You had been late to the reception from being on-call at the hospital but you were finally off for the night and you came ready to celebrate with the most important people in your world.

He tried to hide the upward twitch of his lips but he couldn’t hide that from you if he tried.

“I didn’t think you would make it.” He brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. The strobe lights were shining all over and people were dancing around you but it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. You thought it was selfish to think that at your best friends’ wedding, but the more pressing concern was how sickeningly in love you were with everything Sherlock was at that moment.

“And miss seeing you all dressed up? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You were sure if you waited just another moment he would have asked you to dance, but you didn’t have a moment to spare. You had already missed out on so much. “Dance with me?”

You assumed his answer was yes because as soon as you asked and started to walk away from him and towards an open space, he was hot on your heels. He stops as you turn to face him and he looks like he’s about to speak but he doesn’t. Instead, he grabs your hands and places them where they should be and you two begin to slow dance.

He wants to tell you that he’s spent the whole night trying to connect with people and it failed every time. That he doesn’t understand why people don’t react to him the same way they do you, someone who lights up every room they’re in.

“You’re far away from me, aren’t you?” You asked as you continued to dance, your voice no louder than the music playing but Sherlock had heard you all the same. He nodded as he continued to lead you around the dance floor. To everyone else he seemed as he always did: composed, graceful, arrogant. But you could tell by the way his eyes looked past you and his lack of commentary that he wasn’t really with you. Sherlock was grateful that you knew him so well. He often found answers when he was lost to his thoughts but there were also times where he couldn’t find his way back. He’d get lost in everything he didn’t understand, everything he missed out on, everything he got wrong.

As if you read his mind, you cupped his cheeks between your hands and brought his forehead to yours, dancing an afterthought to you both now. You smile at him and he swears he sees the light. “Sherlock,” you whisper like you’re telling him the secret to everything, “I need to tell you something.”

You move your arms back around his neck and he pulls you closer as you two begin to dance again with the everyone else. The room  was glowing with love, and you were so happy to see that so many people showed up to celebrate your closest friends’ day.

“You were the one thing I got right. Seriously, you were the obvious one. I don’t think it could be anyone else if I tried. It’s you. I love you so much.”

It was then that it hit him that you could walk away from him at any moment and take with you the light of the only love he’s ever truly known. He also knew then that you would never hurt him like that because when you told him you loved him he could actually see it. In the way you were looking at him, holding him. In the ways that you always showed up for him. You were never shy with showing it, he just wasn’t observing.

Sherlock looked at you with so much admiration you thought you’d melt on the spot. “You mean that.” It wasn’t a question.

“You know I do.” It was as simple as that. You looked around to see that John and Mary were free and you started to pull Sherlock towards them. You hadn’t seen them all night and you wanted to shotgun champagne and get your family pictures. As you pulled Sherlock through the crowd, people you knew approached you both and for once Sherlock felt a sense of normalcy. He thought he’d hate it, but he found he was a perfect fit at your side as he reveled in that fact that you’d replaced a lot of your “I’s” with “we’s”. You included him as an integral part of your life and he had never thought that anyone would see him as an extension of themselves. He decided to never let you go.

You and Sherlock eventually made it back to Baker street a little more drunk than you meant to be and a lot happier than you thought was possible. As you went to start untying his tie, his hand grabbed your wrist.

“Is that,” he cleared his throat, his eyes moving around the room nervously before finding yours again, “is that something you want? A wedding, I mean.” Sherlock was fumbling over his words at this point and you couldn’t tell if he was really that nervous or if that final tequila shot was starting to make his brain numb and he couldn’t keep his words straight. 

You freed your wrist from his grip and smoothed your hands over his shirt and under his blazer to push it off his shoulders. It was quiet for a few minutes before you finally spoke. 

“If we’re being honest, the only person I see myself marrying is you. And weddings aren’t your thing. As handsome as you are dressed for battle, I think we’d probably be better off doing a nice dinner. Maybe at Angelo’s with our friends. We can go to the courthouse and then take our own very special holiday. I’m thinking somewhere warm, Bora Bora?”

“Y/N, I think I’d burn.” Sherlock smirked and all you could do is laugh at your ridiculous man. Your ridiculously lovely, handsome, out of this world man. You thought about coming back with something witty, but the way he was looking at you was screaming, “I think I just told you I wanted to marry you, I love you, please kiss me” so loudly that your ears were ringing and you thought you’d be doing the world a disservice if you didn’t answer to your true calling: loving Sherlock Holmes with every fiber of your being. So of course you kissed him. Again, and again, and again.

Sherlock kept your answer tucked away in his mind and it came to surface everytime you walked Northumberland street. He wasn’t even sure you remembered the conversation but he’d never forget it. He’d talk to Angelo about the dinner and leave it up to Mary to decorate the room and he’d ask you and you’d say yes and then you’d get married by whoever could officiate it the quickest. John would get the chance to be Sherlock’s best man and his mother would probably cry and you’d be looking at him like you love him, because you do. And he’d look like he loves you too, because he does.

[1kook]

youtube & use lube

part 7 of my netflix and chill collection!

summary: You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube.  warnings: smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook rating: mature (18+) miscellaneous: domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3  word count: 8.7k  

notes: finally…. 7 parts later and we get ~✨💓sub kook💓✨~ this was honestly my fave to write I think because I was obSESSEDDD with his softness and yn leading hehe /.\ also yeah we time jumped 6 months bc uhmmm 😎 story progression also here’s [ THE KOOK U SHOULD IMAGINE FOR THIS 😡 ] also if see a typo ummm no u didn't .

let me know what u think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

Despite what past experiences may dictate, Jungkook’s body is actually quite resilient. It’s due in part to his obnoxiously healthy lifestyle; avocado breakfasts, gym rat tendencies, and a normal person’s circadian rhythm (you could never relate). He lives the life health professionals can only dream of writing down in their notes, so careful of his well-being that it’s almost annoying. Of all the habits you help him break, the rituals he sometimes forgets, his health is never one and it’s actually one he ropes you into quite often. The ladder accident last summer had truly been an odd occurrence, and for a while after, you doubt anything else will ever happen to him. 

And then winter comes. 

Now, Jungkook, with all his superior bodily systems and strict lifestyle, is still not immune to the common cold. So when he comes down with a stuffy nose, a saggy frame, you’re not too surprised. It’s right after New Year’s, which you had spent it at one of Taehyung’s classic overcrowded parties this year, shivering on a rooftop as he kissed you silly under the fireworks, so one of you was bound to get sick. And you were sick for Halloween, so it’s only the universe’s way of leveling the playing field when he gets sick after New Years. 

What does surprise you is when he doesn’t bounce back right away. Usually, Jungkook’s high caliber immune system has him in tip top shape about two days later. But this time around, it takes a while. In fact, it takes longer than usual, and you don’t realize until you’re coming over on a Friday night, met with an unusual silence at the Jeon household. 

As you slowly grew accustomed to your life out of school, you and Jungkook accepted that you didn’t really have time to be glued to each other’s hips at all hours of the day. It was only natural that sometimes you had too much work, were too tired, or were just not in the mood to visit each other. That was fine, and you’ve come to quite appreciate this new routine, because it only made your heart flutter faster than before when you did see him next. You don’t have to see each other everyday, and that was fine; it was part of growing up together (and growing old together, your sappy heart says).

But today, this separation ends up being your downfall. Jungkook first showed signs of a cold on Monday, and now it was Friday and you hadn’t heard from him in two days. You’re beginning to suspect he’s come down with something severe— maybe that strain of the flu that he forgot to get vaccinated for this year —or even worse, dead.

Luckily, Jungkook isn’t dead, just sadly slumped across the end of his bed, nose a bright red and hair a tangled mess. “Oh no,” you frown, but there’s not an ounce of distress in your voice, because boy, was he cute. 

He groans at the sight of you. “Don’t look at me,” he whimpers, hands fisting the sheets. “I’m ugly.”

You bite down on a smile, hang your bag on the hook behind his bedroom door. He’s barely making an effort to stay on the bed, clinging to the side with such powerless hands. “Absolutely hideous,” you play along, arms wrapping around his middle. Registering your touch, your support, he immediately releases what little grip he had and almost sends the two of you tumbling to the ground. “My poor baby,” you croon, manhandling him back into the comfort of his sheets. 

Perhaps the reason you believed Jungkook was so immune was because, well, he never let you see him sick. 

He was picky about his presentation to the world, always wanting to show his best side. And well, you were in that world. Hell, you were probably the main person he wanted to show off for (not to toot your own horn), so he avidly avoided showing you his unpleasant sides. Even in college, when you had been practically stuck to his side, he had always made a big deal of pushing you away when he was sick, calling off dates and hiding away at his house. 

You sort of knew why. Namjoon had told you once that Jungkook when drunk was the equivalent of a needy, whiny baby. You could attest to that because wine drunk Jungkook and vodka drunk Jungkook were quite the experiences to haul home. And apparently Jungkook when sick was more or less the same. He was all doe eyes and pouty lips, magnified by his weakened appearance. He was adorable. 

He’s wearing a lot of layers, but it’s still winter so you don’t think too much of it. Dark long sleeve sweatshirt, the front tucked into some cute brown and black checkered pants. You see it as just some casual at home attire until you reach for his covers, hand brushing his hair from his face, only to find it ice cold. 

“Oh, you’re freezing, honey,” you frown, for real this time. Jungkook whimpers, snuggles into the sheets you pull up to his chin. He dozes off soon after, pouty lips chapped to hell and back. You reach for your chapstick, deciding to get one good use of it on your own lips before contaminating it with Jungkook’s sick germs. Even in his sleep he’s a good boy, rolling his lips together after you’ve applied it on him. 

With Jungkook knocked out, you pad back downstairs and into his kitchen. You can more or less infer that he’s come down with something a little more intense than a cold. His skin was cold, and his nose was runny, but, oddly enough, he wasn’t sweating. You decide to consult a professional. 

“The little gremlin is sick?” Doyeon repeats, a comforting buzz in your ear as you get to work making Jungkook your famous Get Better Soon Soup, idly waiting for the water to boil over. You confirm. Doyeon, legend that she was, accidentally sat an entire physiology class one semester (and passed), so this is the closest you’ll get to a doctor friend. “Hm,” she says, “what’re his symptoms?”

You press your phone between your ear and shoulder, clattering around Jungkook’s kitchen for ingredients. “Runny nose and colder than your ass that one time you passed out in the snow,” you supply. “Oh, but not sweating.”

Doyeon hums over the line, tells you to give her a second, and disappears. “WebMD is saying fever, but you said he’s not sweating?” You confirm again. “Throw him in front of the heater and make him sweat then. He has to burn it out somehow.”

“I can’t do that,” you sigh, pausing when you hear some vague sound from around the house. It’s not Jungkook, so you return to your call. Anyway, Jungkook’s house is, like, perfect. Always warm when need be and always cold as well. You don’t even think he knows what a space heater is. “He’s sick sick. Like, can barely hold himself up sick.” 

She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”

Anyway, Jungkook probably has a fever, except it’s weird because he’s not sweating it out. He wakes up about an hour later, but this time he’s more self aware. He eats his soup and takes the medicine you offer him. Afterwards, he can’t go back to sleep so he huffily asks for his iPad and begins watching some weirdly specific YouTube videos you don’t think you’ve ever seen him watch before. 

You have absolutely no idea what he’s watching, some niche videos of guys in Singapore turning random forest areas into underwater pools? You don’t know. Jungkook seems interested, though, for all of ten minutes until he falls asleep again. 

He’s still cold, poor baby, nose like an ice cube that just won’t melt. You find a heating pad you left over in his closet and place it on his chest. Your thought process is that if his heart, the source of all energy, was warm, then certainly the rest of him will warm up soon enough. Yeah, you missed the last three seasons of Grey’s Anatomy; you were a little rusty. 

So with Jungkook fast asleep and nothing else to do, you assume the age-old, patriarchal task of cleaning around the house. 

His house was usually neat and tidy, mostly as a result of Jungkook’s virgo manifestations, but even those varied. His living room tended to be spotless, but his personal office was a different story. But with him having been out of it this past week, the entire house is littered in tiny garbage that would make Normal Jungkook burst a blood vessel.

There’s a pile of Reese’s wrappers in the downstairs bathroom, on the sink next to his toothbrush. The sight makes you sad, because your poor boy must have been struggling if he was eating candy in the bathroom, where he… uses the bathroom. And then that thought makes you even sadder, thinking back to all the times he was sick and alone, fending for himself out of his weird embarrassment of showing normal body functions. 

You had thought he was cute when you first arrived— he still was —but he was also so weak and frail, bulky muscles rendered useless by whatever bacteria was attacking his body, making him sleepy and in pain for god knows how long. With a resolute nod, you sweep all the wrappers into the trash and decide to do your very best at helping Jungkook get through this sickness and bounce back better than ever. 

Before leaving his bathroom, you ransack his cabinets, deciding he probably keeps most of his antibiotics here. It’s a spot you never really snoop around, because Jungkook always keeps a fully stocked basket in his closet filled with your typical necessities— from conditioner to pads to nail polish remover, he kept it all. And furthermore, you always tended to use his upstairs bathroom anyway, so that’s where your toothbrush and the like were kept. There was really no need for you to ever look through the downstairs bathroom’s cabinet. So the downstairs bathroom cabinet is practically the other side of the world to you, a culture shock so strong it has you plopping down in front of it to thoroughly sift through. 

He’s got a disgusting amount of hair products, none of which you actually think you’ve ever seen him use, and a maniacal amount of tooth stuff. Now, you were quite possibly the biggest proponent for dental care, but this was ridiculous. Four packs of floss on reserve, and about three cases of those dental picks. A whole family pack of toothbrushes and one of those cute little cases for his retainer you’ve seen a few times. 

So overwhelmed with his ungodly stash of dental hygiene utilities, you almost miss the pretty pink tube hidden in the very back corner. 

You’re thinking it’s some makeup primer you left before that he mistook for moisturizer, probably dumped it with all his other things, only to find out you are very, very wrong. 

Sensation Warming Lubricant: NOW! in strawberry flavor 

You blink. 

Lubricant? Jungkook was using lubricant? Strawberry, sensation warming lubricant?!

Somewhere in your mind you had convinced yourself that Jungkook was a simple man, a lotion at his bedside drawer type of man. He had you for the last one and half year, and you two fucked like rabbits, so you hardly doubt he was jacking it alone these days. And even if he was, why on earth was he so specific about the type of lube he uses?

You turn the bottle around, eyes scanning for an expiration date or something of the like, only to find that the copyright symbol was under this current year. The year that had just started, like, two weeks ago. 

Oh, so this was new. 

You turn it over, eyes scanning over the warnings like it’ll tell you something about your boyfriend you don’t know yet, some other hidden secret that he’s maybe held from you. Granted, owning lube isn’t really a big deal, but the fact he’s got it so hidden away (not really, it was casually sitting beside his sunscreen) was definitely something to zero in on. 

Strawberry flavored, you read again, warming, stimulating, edible? Forget his weirdly extensive floss collection, you had stumbled upon something amazing in here, the goddamn Hope Diamond among snooping girlfriend finds. You’ll confront him about this later, you decide, when he’s back to normal and not whiningly calling your name from upstairs. You pocket it for now, tucking it into your cardigan pockets for said later interrogation, and bound up the stairs to him again. 

He’s sitting up in bed like a very angry and confused toddler, brows furrowed sharply like he’s mad. Actually, he just can’t see, the light from the hallway blinding him, so you shut the door and flick on his bedside lamp for him instead. “Hi, honey,” you coo, sitting down on the edge beside him. He’s still waking up, leaning a little too heavily into your palm when you cup his face. “How’re you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he rasps out, but he’s definitely looking better than before. You don’t know if you imagine it, but there’s this slowly accumulating sweat that forms along the base of his neck. “Please don’t leave again,” he says softly, droopy eyes glassy. 

Something shoots straight to your heart— an arrow from Cupid himself! —that makes you stroke his cheek tenderly until his eyelids are fluttering shut again. “I won’t,” you promise, feeling around for his iPad. He doesn’t seem like he’ll fall back asleep, sitting up with more strength than he had that morning. 

You end up climbing behind him, let him be the little spoon you know he secretly craves to be, as he watches his weird YouTube videos again. His body is so warm against yours, but his skin is still so cold. If what Doyeon had said was true, it’s no wonder he’s kept the same sickness all week. The rhythmic sound of machetes hacking at the earth and water trickling through bamboo pipes grows on you, makes you fall into a sense of comfort behind him, arms tracing circles over his chest. 

It’s a mindless habit, one you actually do a lot. Most of the time, it’s when he’s at his desk and stressed out, your masseuse hands making an appearance to soothe the muscles in his neck and chest from being hunched over for so long. Even now, your fingers unconsciously press into the fabric over his pecks, tickle up his sternum until he’s melting against you. 

It takes one quiet whimper from him to let you know exactly how he’s feeling. “Everything alright?” you inquire, halting your movements over his chest. Jungkook nods shakily, head lolling forward. The nape of his neck calls to you, whispers for a kiss that you tenderly bestow upon it. It makes Jungkook jolt, another pretty sound leaving his lips at the press of your warm lips against his sensitive neck. 

“No more,” he mumbles, rolls his head around until it’s resting against your shoulder, giving you a clear view down his chest. You slide your hands back up from where they’d gone stiff just around his ribs, let them palm over his pecs. Jungkook’s hips buck, a minuscule movement you almost miss. 

His heart thunders like the inside of a horse race track beneath your palm, breath picking up just from the simple motion of your hands on his chest. It’s on the fourth circle around his pecs that you feel your pinky briefly catch on something. “Poor thing,” you sigh, running the pad of your pointer finger over the hardened nipple that peaks beneath his sweatshirt. “Is this what was bothering you?” 

A shaky exhale in response, hands tightly clutching at his iPad and beloved YouTube video genre. “N-No,” he denies, but you chance a peak at his face, where his lips are bitten a rosy pink color, its slightly muted sister rushing down his cheeks, over his neck. 

You press the lightest of kisses to the side of his neck, and he shivers. “Need me to take care of you?” you purr, trail your hands down his chest towards where the hem of his sweater sits. You run your finger over it twice, before moving to slip your hand beneath. Your fingers brush along his abs, contracted tightly at your touch, and slowly make their way back up his chest. 

Fingers find his pebbled nipples, a gasp escaping his lips. “Does this feel good?” you ask softly, pinching the swollen nubs between your fingers. Jungkook groans, body arching just the slightest as you rub his nipples, tug and twist them until he’s a whining mess. “Need you to tell me, honey,” you encourage, lips ghosting over his neck. 

The second kiss has him flinching as well, head rapidly turning the other way as you slowly kiss over his neck. “___, please,” he pants, knuckles pale on the sides of the iPad. You're afraid it’ll snap, if not from his grip then from the way he pushes at it, like he’s breaking a wooden board over his knee. It’s still on YouTube, playing another video from the same collection, volume competing with Jungkook’s tiny sounds. 

Pressing your lips to his neck, you kiss along it slowly, reveling in the lovely noises that Jungkook produces the more you rub his nipples, lower body squirming animatedly before you. Your kisses grow wet for a short period, suck purple blossoms across his skin until Jungkook is quivering like a leaf. “E-Enough,” he begs, voice a wobbly mess that is so light and airy. 

You grin, giving his rockhard nipples one last flick before sliding your hands down his chest, over his stomach to toy with the elastic of his pants. He inhales sharply, iPad nearly snapped in half mid video. Ready to play with him some more (and slightly afraid for the future of his tablet), you reach out a hand to move it away, set it off to the side. 

But Jungkook doesn’t release it. In fact, he clings to the damn piece of tech tighter than before. “Hmm?” you murmur, bottom lip brushing against his neck once more. “Not letting go, sweetheart?” 

He shakes his head, soft crown of curls bouncing from the movement. “Can’t, can’t,” he shivers. His knees shift back and forth, move between being casually spread and flush together. Like he’s hiding something, using the iPad and the videos on screen as cover. You tug at his wrist and Jungkook shakes his head again. 

You change tactics, hand sliding around his wrist instead. The other travels up, up, up, comes curling around the base of his neck. Jungkook whimpers, tilts his head back for you cutely at the first brush of your fingers against his Adam’s apple. “Thought you were my good boy?” you ask, eyes zeroed in on the tremble of his lower lip. 

Jungkook exhales shakily, a rather torn expression crossing his features. “I am,” he insists, fingers still tight “I am your good boy.”

You smile, stroking the front of his neck softly as you lean down to press a kiss against his cheek. “You are, aren’t you?” He whimpers. “Then let go, honey,” you murmur, hand on his wrist giving another experimental tug. Still, his grip remains solid. “Jungkook,” you snap, “let go.”

“Y-You’ll laugh,” he cries, yet his grip slowly weakens. It’s with a swift tug that the iPad tumbles to his side, presses against his hip, and shows you the raging hard-on that stirs beneath the front of his cotton pants. Pressed nearly beside your ear, Jungkook shivers. 

Ever so slowly, your hands return to their place around his waist. “Why would I laugh, sweetheart?” you mumble, marveling at the way his cock twitches and jumps beneath his pants before you can even touch it. His shirt is hiked up just above his abs, your hands tenderly stroking over the skin beneath his navel, but it’s got Jungkook writhing. “Hips up for me,” you instruct. 

He shakes even when he pushes himself up, knees wobbling as you slip your hands beneath his waistband and tug them down his thighs. Afterwards, his legs flop forward flatly, spread out with his beautiful swollen cock on display against his hip. 

You trap it at the base and Jungkook mewls, hands fisting the sheets now that his beloved iPad has been snatched away. It’s still playing his videos, interrupting his saccharine moans with corny ads every few minutes. A hand snaps up to join, opposite of yours, until your fingers are entwined around his dick. How romantic, you think, discreetly rolling your hips back against the mattress. “Gonna help me make you cum?” you ask instead, give him a light squeeze that makes him jolt. 

“Uh huh,” he responds, feathery. 

You reward him with a kiss to his cheek, reaching up to brush away the hair that’s begun sticking to his forehead. In the very back of your head you recognize this as being good for his fever, but the rest of you is more concerned with the pretty pout on his lips. “Hold tight for me,” you smile, releasing his cock to press your finger against the very tip of his cock where a pearly drop of precum has begun forming. “So pretty, Jungkookie,” you praise, teasing the length of your finger over the slit on his head. It has that juicy droplet coating your finger, gliding seamlessly over and over again. 

The simple touch makes him buck, has him blindly wrapping an arm around your bent knee that was pressed to his side this whole time. He squeezes around you rather weakly, the majority of his strength going to holding his cock tightly like you’d instructed. He’s such a good boy for you, trying his absolute best, even when you’re very obviously overwhelming him. 

You roll the flat side of your finger over him, his mushroom tip slowly growing more and more slick as he produces more precum. It’s shiny, fits perfectly between your clasped fingers when you squeeze around his head. Jungkook’s breath turns labored. 

He’s always so well kept down there, skin so smooth and free of hairs, and you know he does it because he wants to impress you. “So pretty, baby,” you hum, acknowledging his efforts. Your praise makes Jungkook moan, suddenly fucking up into his hand. It’s accidental, because he hisses at the drag of his dry palm around his relatively dry dick immediately. 

“Hurts, hurts,” he whimpers prettily, lower lip caught between his teeth. 

You frown, slide your wet fingers down the base of his cock until they’re wrapping around his and Jungkook’s little gasps even out. “I’m sorry, baby, you gotta be patie—“

Something presses against your hip, something distinctly hard that you had hastily picked up from his bathroom cabinet earlier, and a whole new door opens before your eyes. “Hold still for me,” you tell him quickly as you release your grip around his cock. Jungkook wails at the separation, but you’re more concerned with wrestling the tube out of your pocket with one hand. It’s heavy in your palm, turning over until that big fat label on front comes into view again. 

Jungkook explodes at the sight. “Wh— Where did you find that?” he stammers, cheeks ablaze. “I-I don’t know where that came fro—“

You ignore him, hold the bottle of lubricant over his stomach as you uncap it, a gooey pink substance spilling over into your hands the moment the lid pops off. Jungkook is still rambling away about the origins of the bottle, as if you care. You set the bottle on his tummy, the cold plastic makes him shiver. But you know what’s not cold? The warming lube in your hands that only takes three rubs of your palms to activate. 

You latch down like a crazed animal around his cock. With both your hands fighting to grip at his cock, you’re pressed closer against Jungkook, lips against the shell of his ear. 

The initial touch makes him sob, back arching and legs kicking at the sheets piled at the foot of the bed as your slick hands track the lube over his dick. “No!” he cries, hands wildly reaching out to grab whatever he can as you slowly get to work pulling him off. “I-I can’t, __, I can’t.”

“You can,” you coo, watching the translucent pink substance coat his cock, join his sticky precum. 

Maybe you get overexcited in your efforts, forget Jungkook is the way he is right now because he was still a little weak from his fever, but you go crazy on stroking his cock. One hand lingers around the base, squeezing and rolling over his balls, palm pressing against the hardened sac and squeezing there too. The other focuses at the tip, does most of the actual stroking over his cock. His head is leaking precum now, every stroke and squeeze making him shudder and push out another drop, until it’s mixing with the lube to form a sticky sweet substance that you wanna lick at so bad. 

So you do. 

You release one hand to curiously bring it up to your face, turning it over and around as you examine the stickiness on your fingers, the fat drop that unintentionally drips onto the front of Jungkook’s sweatshirt. He sobs at the sight of your lips around your fingers, squirms and bucks into the hand still on his cock until he’s embarrassingly coming. “I’m sorry,” he wails, hands fisting the sheets, fucking into your hand like a virgin. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to.” 

You draw your hand away, watching in slow motion the cum that just spurted from his cock come dribbling down the slowly softening length now. “Oh, sweetheart,” you croon, hands on his tummy. The bottle of lube slips to the side, meets the still playing iPad at his hip. It’s sticky and gross to touch him like this, especially when you know Jungkook hates being unnecessarily dirty, but you can’t stop yourself from softly caressing him, soothe him after such a hard-hitting orgasm. 

Honestly you had thought he would hold up a little more, let you get in a few more strokes, but he must’ve been more sensitive than you thought. “I’m sorry,” he cries again, head lolling to the side to meet your gaze with watery eyes. 

You tilt his head to the side, angle him just right for you to bestow your first kiss of the night against his little pout. Jungkook hiccups, melts against you as you slowly guide him through the kiss. He’s sloppy and shy, moves nothing like your normal Jungkook, and that fact alone has you slipping your tongue past his lips. He doesn’t fight back, just lets you play with him and sighs all delicately against your mouth. 

There’s something about this, his soft and submissive attitude, that has you pulling away to look at him. Big brown eyes, glassed over with unshed tears, and plush lips that call your name. And yet. 

“Open,” you murmur, hypnotized by the way that tiny mouth moves. 

“Huh?” Jungkook flushes, but he’s so good, he’s your good boy, and does so anyway. Lower lip quivers as he parts his lips, stuttering exhales creeping through as you purse your lips, let the saliva collect on your mouth, before rudely spitting into his. He flinches, whimpers softly, and swallows. He looks at you with these expectant eyes, like he wants to hear how much of a good boy he is, so you do exactly that. 

You brush his bangs away lovingly. “Aren’t you just so good for me,” you purr, revel in the way his eyes flutter shut at your touch, like you could never hurt him, and you won’t. 

As sweet as the moment is, there’s a raging fire in your core begging to be stroked, and your hyperfixation on Jungkook’s mouth lets you know there’s only one way to chase the feeling. “Up,” you tell Jungkook, who whimpers sadly when you finally escape from behind him. 

But you don’t get too far, settling beside him on the bed until you’re looking at the damage you’ve caused from the front. His skin is sticky in some places, pink sheen of the lube decorating him from your incessant touching. Pants around his thighs, shirt against his chest. His face is flushed, all the way down to his chest and up to his ears, so rosy and pink all for you. He shies away under your gaze, drops his head to his chin bashfully. 

You grin, shuffle forward to turn those pretty eyes back towards you. “Messy little thing,” you tease, slotting your mouths together again. Jungkook moans this time, lazily kissing you back. His lips move in slow motion, trembling hands reaching for your face to cup, your name falling from his lips when you pull away slightly. “Need you to help me out now,” you murmur, hand on his jaw. “Can you do that, honey?” Jungkook nods hurriedly, eyes foggy and on your mouth. “Lay back.”

He does so, rushes to lay against the pillows until he’s flat on his back. You get to work on your clothes, shed your cardigan and languidly tug your top over your head in the way you know makes your breasts bounce. Beneath you, Jungkook whines at the sight. “You too,” you remind him, wiggling out of your jeans. At your instruction, he begins fumbling with his clothes, pants and underwear haphazardly thrown over the edge of the bed. 

By the time you’re naked, you’re met with a rather amusing sight. 

In his haste to take his clothing off, Jungkook seems to have gotten himself tangled in his long sleeves, shirt awkwardly bunched up around his wrists and twisted over some. You chuckle. “Help please,” he asks so politely, shaking his arms back and forth above his head. But you’re genuinely confused as to what he did, because one of the sleeves wraps around the other, pins the bulk of the fabric to his skin, and then the other wraps around that. A mess you don’t bother dissecting, simply climbing over him. He complains, of course, soft huffs you wave off. 

“Don’t need them anyway,” you shrug, can’t help the lovesick look you send him when you brush his hair away for the umpteenth time. Jungkook leans into the touch sweetly, rosy cheek pressed against your palm. “Lemme see your pretty little tongue,” you order, pussy clenching when he does as told and rolls his tongue out for you, tip pressed against his bottom lip. “Good boy.”

A soft whimper, and then you’re shuffling over him, pretty doe eyes watching with amazement when you finally hover over his face. “For me?” he asks so softly, so sweetly. 

It’s a question you’ve heard him utter countless times before in similar settings, always with a cocky grin and mean eyes, ready to send you to hell and back with his tongue or his cock. But it’s different now, big shiny eyes looking at you like you’re the greatest thing to ever happen in his life, so pliant and demure beneath your touch like he lived to serve you. 

“All for you,” you assure him, get comfortable, and slowly lower your pussy over his face. His eyes flutter shut immediately, pink tongue ready for you by the time your dripping cunt nears his face. 

You can’t help the moan that tears itself from your throat, a soft cry as he begins lapping against your folds. He’s so tender, so careful. It drives you crazy. Hands above his head squirming as you slowly grind your pussy over his face, more mindful than usual because he was so delicate tonight, like a baby bird that shivers with the simplest touch. 

His tongue is smooth, circles around your clit. He nudges your bundle of nerves back and forth a few times, sends an initial wave of tingles down your spine, before taking it between puckered lips. His slurps it into his mouth, where it’s so hot and wet, it makes your grind stutter. “Oh,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “P-Perfect,” you mumble. 

The praise makes his features twist up cutely, mouth desperate to get more out of you. “You like that?” you gasp, holding his head still as he runs his tongue along your folds. Jungkook nods, eyes glazed over as he messily begins eating you out. “Like when I tell you you’re a good boy, Jungkookie?” 

He lets out a broken whine, the vibrations shooting up your spine and making you shiver. Tongue pressed in at your entrance, prods gently like it’s his first time (it’s not) and he’s gauging your reactions. “Oh baby,” you shudder, fingers tightening in his curls. 

He looks like an angel beneath you like this, halo of curls artfully splayed across the sheets, arms knotted above his head. Big pretty eyes that make you want to lay down and be his bitch instead, their power just so strong even when he’s whining and whimpering against your pussy like this. His tongue dips into your cunt, makes you buck against him by accident. “I’m sorry, angel,” you breathe, so caught up in your thoughts that the name just slips. It makes Jungkook’s cheeks flush a pretty pink, arms tug at their makeshift restraints. But his brain is scattered, torn between releasing himself, eating you out, and being shy. 

He settles soon enough, ends up just sticking his tongue out flat for you to grind against, using the grip in his curls to drag your pussy over his face. His scalp feels warm, sweat clinging to his hairline. He sighs endearingly against you, and it’s that final puff of warm air against your folds that has you coming, cum dripping over his lips and chin sinfully. 

When you finish, you quickly get off of him, lay down beside him. Jungkook is panting softly, tongue peeking out to taste the cum that splattered against the corner of his lips. “You were so good for me,” you praise, idly dragging your finger across his skin, collecting your cum on the tip. 

Jungkook looks at you with a heavy gaze, knotted wrists slowly returning to rest over his abdomen. “Can you… Can you call me that again?” he asks hesitantly, so shy and polite. 

“Hm?” you ask. “Angel?” His lips part, an awfully aroused look crossing his features. You smile, press your cum loaded finger against his lips and he opens, sucks around your finger and moans. “My pretty little angel,” you purr, slowly thrusting your finger in and out of his mouth. Before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning over to kiss him again, swallowing his cries in your desperate need to taste yourself on his tongue. Jungkook is more active this time around, daringly challenging your tongue with his before ultimately giving up, languidly following the pace you set for the kiss. You pull off with a pop, leave him dazed and trailing after your mouth cutely. 

You pat his cheek once, offer him a tender smile, before moving to get up and clean up. Jungkook whines at your departure, and it’s only once you’ve sat up that you realize why. 

Half hard cock at his hip, fattening slowly but surely. Instantly, it’s like the post-orgasm fatigue is yanked away, pussy throbbing at the sight of your angel and his cock, swelling from eating you out and kissing. He was too good to be true. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” you sigh dramatically, shifting onto your knees at his hip to look at him. Something pokes your leg; it’s the stupid iPad playing his dorky YouTube videos that you click off and chuck to the other side of the bed. You had had enough of that by now. 

He’s not at full mast yet, and he’s not getting there quick enough for your liking. So you take matters into your own hands. (Besides, what was stopping you tonight? Certainly not this soft, pliant Jungkook.)

Kneeling between his legs, you reach for the forgotten bottle of lube, squirt a fat glob into your hands, then decide that isn’t enough and squirt it directly onto your chest. Jungkook watches with wide eyes, lower lip caught between his teeth. “What— What’re you doing?” he stammers, can’t even sit up with his hands held together. “__, y-you don’t have—“

Squeezing your breasts together, you slip his cock between the crevice, watch as his angry head comes out on the other side so easily, so slippery. Oh, this was gonna be post-work, shower-time, spank bank material for months. 

Jungkook sobs, loud and unfiltered at the sight, expression torn as he watches you slowly work your tightened breasts down his quickly hardening member. “T-Too much, too much,” he cries, squirming and bucking beneath you. “I-I’ll come—” 

“Don’t,” you snap, stilling your moments to flick your eyes back to him. His head is rolled back, jaw strained, but when he manages to lift it up and look down at you, there’s tears that streak his cute face, trails that glisten when the lowlight of the lamp hits him just right. “Don’t fucking come yet, Jungkook.”

He sniffles weakly, more tears spilling from his eyes. “But I— it feels,” he blubbers, knotted hands reaching down for the base of his cock. You slap it away. “___, please,” he wails, face flushed from all his conflicting emotions. 

Ignoring his cries, you get back to work, moving your upper body to and fro to simulate the thrusting motion he is too weak to do himself. He whimpers pitifully, more tears leaving his eyes when you lean down and spit on the head of his cock when it emerges next, make it join the rest of the ungodly fluids painting your chest. Honestly, you’re certain it’s that damned strawberry flavored, sensation warming, edible lube that makes this experience so enjoyable, so mind-blowing. 

Jungkook seems to agree, stuttering out a messy whine. “Feels weird,” he snivels, only to be cut off when you release him from in between your tits. Immediately, he begins lamenting the loss. 

Slowly, you ease him back in. You’re beginning to understand the intensity of that damned warming lube, because with each glide of his cock between your breasts, it’s like a tingle of nerves sparks within you, insides folding in on themselves as they channel all their energy to that one area of hastily spread lube. It feels so good and wet and messy, Jungkook’s whiny sniffles only fueling the experience. His cock twitches dangerously, and you flash him a glare. “Jungkook,” you warn. 

“I’m sorry,” he weeps, thrashing back and forth as if that makes it any easier. “I just— I want,” he chokes, hips bucking into the suction you’ve created between your boobs. Tentatively, you stick your tongue out, let his tip brush against it on the next thrust. Jungkook curses, a feral groan escaping his lips. “Wanna fuck,” he seethes, “now.”

It’s but a slight peek into his regular personality, his normal mannerisms. But something about it now annoys you. In fact, it pisses you off, seeing him be so complacent and sweet just to try and overthrow you at the last second. And it’s with this same train of thought that you release him, climb over him like a crazed sex demon, and press your hand to his throat. 

“You're supposed to be good,” you spit, scowl turned on him and it immediately has Jungkook drawing back with his tail tucked, falling into line as he should. “You’re supposed to be my angel tonight, remember?”

Jungkook nods, big round eyes looking at you like you’re insane, but the cock that presses against your ass tells you that he likes it. “I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, shrinking back into the mattress. Sticky hands around his throat, probably make him warm and tingly, but all you can think about is those pretty eyes. Sensing your wavering emotions, he takes advantage by tilting his chin forward for you cutely, pink lips trembling as he silently asks for a kiss. 

You release him.

“Stupid angel,” you huff, mouth against his. “Gonna make me mad if you don’t act right,” you remind him, pushing his sweaty curls away from his face. He whimpers against your mouth, let’s you play with his hair as you calm down. He’s a blushing mess beneath you, every inch of him flushed and warm and sweaty. 

You shift back and are met with his still rock hard member against your ass. You touch him appreciatively, reaching back to stroke him with a half-assed grip. It makes him moan nonetheless, pulling away from your lips to mewl against your shoulder. “Wanna fuck?” you hum, curling your hand over the tip like he likes, watching his head roll back against his pillow at the sensation. Jungkook groans, doesn’t seem to hear you now. You try again. “Wanna fuck my pussy, baby?”

“Yes,” he gasps this time, jolts when you press the tip of your finger against the slit on his head, plug his cock from releasing any more precum. “Please, please,” he begs, the hands on his chest straining against the shirt he still hasn’t managed to shake off. 

One last kiss is delivered to him, a chaste one against his pout that makes him whine. “Whatever you want,” you purr, line him up. 

Your hands are still sticky with the lube and so is his cock. Everything is sticky; his cock, you folds, your tits, his neck. It’s a big sticky, slippery mess, but you can’t even be annoyed because everything feels so good. Your tits tingle from whatever they put in that damn lube, nipples rock hard and extra swollen today, like if you don’t touch them you’ll die. You sink back into Jungkook’s throbbing cock, and the second his cock spreads the lube along your walls, you’re jolting because it just feels so damn good. 

You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. 

His cock pushes past your folds, fits snugly inside of you just like it belongs. It still feels like the first time, feels like your first day where he was so perfect and sweet. Part of you wonders what would have become of you two if he had reacted like this that day, soft and whiny, when you first prepositioned him. Maybe the sexual aspect of your relationship would be entirely different today, maybe you’d be one the always leading. 

But… you’re not sure if you’d want that. Leading is fun— hell, you’re certain this moment will be what you get engraved on your tombstone —but you were a pillow princess at heart with occasional dominant tendencies. You drool over this moment now, but if he asks for this again tomorrow you might actually bend over and die. It was a lot of work, keeping the energy going, and you find yourself having this newfound sense of respect for Jungkook as his cock slips past your folds. 

Anyway, when you sit on his cock, fingers teasingly tightening around his throat, Jungkook’s eyes are weirdly focused on your tits. He’s been doing that a lot lately, losing his mind by just staring at your tits. On some occasions he puts them in his mouth, gets possessed by some titty loving monster and sucks on them until you’re trembling. It’s fine because it’s quite frankly a huge ego boost, but something him now makes you want to pick at him for it. 

“They’re yours to taste, angel,” you hum, slowly rolling your hips over his fat cock. Jungkook whimpers, softly ruts up into your heat the next time you press down. “Tell me what you want,” you exhale, a breathy moan. 

He doesn’t say anything, just drops his mouth open for you with a trembling lower lip. Tongue peeks out, eyes glazed over in his lust, looking every bit like those hentai ads he hates so much. But you fulfill his wishes, help him sit up until he’s flush against your chest. His awkwardly bound hands get squished in the middle, and he says, “m-my hands...” 

“I’ve got you,” you soothe, undo his self-made restraints and toss them to the side. Immediately, he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him to latch his lips around your breasts. “S-Slow down,” you whine, hands on his biceps as he sucks your tit into his mouth, twirls his tongue around your nipple. He’s good with his tongue even when he’s sick. 

He pulls off with a pop, ragged breathing only making you more sensitive as it fans over the thin layer of saliva he leaves on your tits. “Tastes like strawberries,” he groans wondrously, head against your chest. You use the lull to get back to fucking yourself on him, but Jungkook’s got other plans. He rolls the two of you over, pins you beneath him with his hot and sweaty body. “I’m sorry,” he moans as he begins jackhammering his thrusts into you. 

Your back arches, legs thrown around his waist as the sudden change of events. “Fffuck,” you heave, “harder, angel— gotta fuck like you mean it.”

Jungkook shudders, hands looped around the small of your back. His cock rams into you over and over, each glide of it against the walls of your pussy making you unravel in his arms. His lips latch around your other boob, suck and suck like he’s expecting something to come out.

That’s when it hits you. 

“N-Nothing there,” you tell him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. His lashes are wet, eyes pinching tighter at your reminder. He pulls away almost to protest, but then you’re guiding him up to your face, hot breath mingling with yours. “Nothing there because you haven’t given me a baby yet,” you murmur darkly, watch the emotions flood his features as you tap into that taboo kink of his. 

He chokes, grinds his cock into you and holds it there. “I-I didn’t,” he sniffs, “we never— you never said,” he whines, “...you wanted one.”

You cup his face in his hands, feel slightly mean for the pride you get from his tear stricken appearance. “I do,” you purr, lazily kissing him. “Want one if it’s from you. Don’t you?” He nods like an antsy puppy, quivering against you as he slowly and shallowly ruts into you. “Don’t you wanna see me like that, angel?” you egg on, hands looping behind his neck, idly playing with stray waves and curls. “Tummy so big and swollen because you did something bad, because you couldn’t pull out.” 

Jungkook sobs, pulls you impossibly closer until the head of his cock is missing your cervix repeatedly. One of your legs is pressed nearly to your chest, hip tight from the force in which he holds you. “I-I want,” he agrees, more tears spilling down his cheeks. 

You smirk evilly, kissing the corner of his mouth gently as he slowly picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Then fuck me hard, Jungkookie,” you demand, “fuck me full of your cum.”

Jungkook nods with a sniffle against your shoulder, fingers tightening against your skin as he slowly but surely begins nailing you into the mattress. He’s a good boy, always, because he does exactly what you tell him to. Uses those bulky muscles to hold you down, makes it impossible for you to move as he pistons his hips, cock sheathing itself inside your cunt. 

Every drag makes you unconsciously clench, the raw feeling consuming your thoughts. His cock is so big and wet today, certainly due to that stupid lube from beneath his cabinet. Your entire pussy feels like it’s on ecstasy, stupidly geeked up by that lube, and you’re sure Jungkook’s cock feels the same. It makes the glide so much better, so much easier, each ram of his cock feeling so easy. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper, nails digging down his spine. Jungkook is a sobbing, sniffling mess against the crook of your neck, absolute gibberish falling from his lips. 

But you’re no better, tongue seemingly set on a chaotic rampage to validate every single one of his fantasies. “Gonna fuck me while I’m pregnant?” you pant against his ear, fingers tugging at his hair. He doesn’t offer more than a strained cry, thrusts momentarily falling out of rhythm. “You would like that, huh? Fucking me when you’re not supposed to. You’re so bad, Kook-ah,”  you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Only pretend to be an angel but really you’re just a dirty, little pervert.” 

He wails loudly, slams his hips so hard into you that it makes you sob as well. “N-No,” he blubbers, tears against your skin. “I’m good— I’m a good boy,” he stresses, fingers bruising their prints into your skin. 

He presses so close, cock practically making your stomach bulge, but neither of you see. “Dirty angel,” you spit, yank his hair back roughly until he’s forced to look at you with that watery gaze. “So horny you’re willing to get me pregnant.”

Jungkook cries out, snaps his cock into you like he’s trying to break you in half. “No,” he heaves, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto yours. “I-I-I’d do it right,” he defends weakly, hips losing their demonic pace as his orgasm sneaks up on him. “Ma— Marry first… then, b— ba— bab—“

You swallow his words with your lips, kiss him like you’re on the verge of death in a desperate attempt to hide your tears from him. They paint your cheeks in stark strokes, trail down your skin and make everything blurry, but so does your orgasm. 

You come first, heart and body trembling at his unexpectedly sweet words, as you become a whimpering, teary mess beneath him. Jungkook follows, cries out your name one last time as he busts inside of you. 

Sticky and gross, he falls onto the pillow beside you. Poor baby is so tired, curls covering half of his face, but lips cutely puckered against the pillow. He’s sweaty as hell though, which you now vaguely remember was your original goal with all of this so you count this as a success. 

You think he’s fallen asleep, sitting up slowly and reaching for that t-shirt that bound him together earlier to clean up. He shudders when you run it against his skin, obviously still overwhelmed. You shift around the bed in search of today’s MVP. “Where’s the lube?” you mutter to yourself. 

Jungkook groans. “YouTube?” he asks, voice dry as all hell. 

“No, honey, the lube we used,” you respond, running your hands over the sheets for any signs of the pink bottle. 

“Want YouTube,” he mumbles, lets you swaddle him up in the blanket again. You roll your eyes and reach for the forgotten iPad that had long since tumbled to the floor. When it turns on, that same video from before is on pause so you don’t bother changing it as you hand it back to Jungkook. “Nice,” he murmurs, “underground water slide.”

You snort. “Weirdo.” He glares cutely, eyes barely open at this point. “Watch your YouTube.”

“Use your lube,” he sasses back softly, nonsensically, and then rather anticlimactically passes out. 

There’s something soft in your chest, something so big and overwhelming, that has you bending over his sleeping figure, mouth brushing against his. “Hurry and get better, angel,” you whisper, wish on it with all your heart. 

 To no one’s surprise, you get sick two days later. Doyeon laughs and laughs for hours about it, tells you that’s what you get for using sex as medicine. But Jungkook’s back to normal, which means he stays over and coddles you to death. 

“Hurry and get better,” he says, spoon feeding you your famous Get Better Soon Soup that you passed on to him. “I have a question to ask you.”

There’s a little black box in his downstairs bathroom cabinet that you swear you’ve never seen, but Jungkook knows you’re lying. 

It fits perfectly. 

epilogue

She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Don’t Worry - Harry Styles

a/n: i’m so excited about this!!! this fic is my take on the song Don’t Worry by The 1975 for @harrystylescherry ‘s Playlist fic challenge! it took me a lot longer to finish this one, mostly because i chose to write about a topic that’s painfully close to my heart and life and i hope to help those of you who are struggling with similar problems. it’s a touchy subject and i really hope i can at least help just for a little by putting this piece out! also, huge thanks to Nat for this challenge and i can’t wait to read all the other fics!!

warning: eating disorder, lots of self-hatred but even more fluff and love!

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip a little harder than they should, it’s starting to feel painful but you don’t even realize. You’re way too fixated on the Instagram post in front of you, swiping through the same four pictures over and over again, crippling anxiety crawling up your spine, clouding your every thought.

Oh how you wish you could say that you’re not the jealous type. Well, in a way, you are not. You don’t think your boyfriend would ever cheat on you or leave you, that’s just not him as a person. Your jealousy roots in your insecurities about your body and it creates more of a confusion in your head about why Harry, your boyfriend of three years is really dating you when he could have anyone, any model or super gorgeous singer, actress out there, yet he settled for… you.

Your thumb swipes across the screen again as you keep staring at the bikini photos Kendall Jenner has recently posted. She is stunning, the perfect model type with her long legs, skinny torso and snatched waist. Hell, she could make you question your sexuality on other days even, but today she is feeding your burning insecurities.

The thought that at one point in life, your boyfriend was with her makes you feel sick, because you are simply nothing like her. In every sense, you are what others like to call curvy, however you often use other terms, some not too nice ones on your worse days. Your hips are wide, holding quite some meat on them, your full thighs never heard of such thing as thigh gaps, not even when you were a kid. Your tummy brings you a headache sometimes when you want to wear something tight, the urge to hide it stronger than your fashion sense. It’s been ages since you last dared to step out of the house without a bra on, your full breasts always need the support if you don’t want them to sit a little lower on your chest than what you prefer. There are rolls, extra skin, stretch marks and all that jazz on your body and has been for a long time. No model looks like this and you are more than aware of that. But if your boyfriend can get any of them, why did he settle for you?

Tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks when you finally close the app and stop staring at Kendall’s perfect body. You ball your hands to stop them from shaking as you make your way to the bathroom in need of some freshening up. The cold water in your face feels nice, but the moment your eyes fall on your reflection you almost cringe at your own sight, as if it’s a reminder of everything you thought about in the past hour.

What is Harry doing with someone like me? The question keeps playing in your head on repeat and you wish you had a relevant answer, but your tainted thoughts keep bringing you back to the same point: He surely will realize it himself and leave me.

You try your best to shake it all off your mind, but it’s not easy. Sitting at the dining table you busy yourself with some work you brought home, hoping the files will keep your wandering thoughts at bay, however the attempt is not quite successful. And then you hear the front door open and close, followed by Harry’s sweet greeting.

“I’m home, baby!” he calls out and you can tell he is in a great mood just from his voice. You force your best fake smile to your lips, not wanting to ruin his mood with your petty party. He walks in, eyes falling on your sitting figure at the table and though you don’t know it, his heart flutters, like always, even after three years together.

Harry is obsessed with you, to say the least. Every little thing about you fascinates him, he loves everything about you, inside and out, just the way you are and he vowed to never stop telling you how much he adorns you.

“Hey there, wha’cha doin’?” he asks, kissing into your hair as he scans over the papers on the table.

“Oh, just… some extra work,” you shrug, chewing on your bottom lip again, the skin is about to break soon for sure.

“Baby, you work too much. Take some time off,” he tells you, shuffling around before he disappears in the bedroom for a moment before reappearing. “Fancy taking a bath with me?” he offers with a cheeky smile.

Bath, for that you’d have to be completely naked in front of him. That cannot happen in this state of mind.

“Um, I want to finish this. Maybe next time,” you tell him with a faint smile.

“You sure? I could massage your shoulders the way you like it so much, we could try that new bath salt we bought.”

“I really want to get this done, H. You just go and enjoy your bath,” you insist, the stern voice catches him a little by surprise.

“Everything alright baby?” His eyebrows pull together as he watches you from across the room.

“Mm, everything is fine. Just… working,” you tell him, eyes on the papers in front of you, pretending like you’re reading the lines, but in reality you have absolutely no idea what the words are saying. You hear him mumble a soft alright before he disappears again, leaving you alone.

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips once you hear the water running in the bathroom. You bury your face in your palms, feeling so defeated and lost, the only thing that would comfort you would be Harry, but he cannot know what’s been going on in your head. He would never understand the struggle.

These thoughts usually only last for a few days. You always manage to forget about them eventually and return to normality, but not this time. Days turn into weeks and you find yourself sinking deeper into the hole you created for yourself. It starts to effect more parts of your life too. You’re having a hard time sleeping, always waking up several times during the night and sometimes you don’t even fall back asleep after one point. You lose your appetite, your mind tells you that you don’t need the nutritious food, that you need to lose the fat because that’s the only way you can keep Harry. You stop wearing your favorite clothes, always opt for the looser ones that hide every inch of your body and spend way too much time zoned out. You keep catching yourself completely lost in your thoughts during the day, thinking about how Harry might be comparing you to his exes every time he sees you, especially naked.

It’s been long since the last time you were intimate with Harry and you feel so bad for it, but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to bare your body in front of him. You always blew him off with some lame excuse and though there’s a chance he didn’t catch onto whatever was going on, now you know he is suspicious.

And you’re right. Harry notices every little thing, all the changes you’ve been going through. How you leave half your plate uneaten at dinner or how he finds you lying awake next to him in the middle of the night. He also notices how your favorite dresses and shirts remain untouched through the weeks even though you always wear them whenever you have the chance. Instead, he only sees you in big hoodies and loose pants, hiding the delicious curves of your body. But what truly pains him is how you’ve been ignoring all his tries to get close to you, the way you move away from his touch.

The last straw however happens on a Friday afternoon. You are sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking through Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch when Harry is roaming through the cabinets in the bathroom, looking for the lotion he only uses when his skin feels extremely dry. He is going through every drawer and shelf, not finding what he is looking for, but then something odd catches his attention. Some weird named pills are sitting at the back of one of the shelves, hidden behind your perfumes so he hasn’t noticed it, but as he takes it out to have a better look at them, he almost throws them across the room. He has heard of similar pills before, they do more harm than help in weightloss, ruining your digestive system so badly you can actually get way more serious health problems if you use them too long. He frantically tears the box open and see that one third of the pills are gone, meaning that you’ve been taking them for a little while now behind his back.

With the box in his hand, he marches out to the living room where you are still and holding the pills up, he needs everything in him not to flip immediately.

“What the fuck are these?” he grits through his teeth. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he was never supposed to find those, but the cat’s out of the bad and now you can’t think of anything to bring up to your defense, knowing well he very much does not approve these kind of stuff.

“They are… I’m doing a cleanse,” you say, but there’s no use to lie.

“Drinking juice is for cleansing, this shit ruins your body,” he spats, throwing the box to the couch and you bite into your bottom lip, feeling the tears building up already. “Why would you even think about taking these?”

“Why?” you chuckle bitterly, your vision blurry from the tears. “Oh come on, don’t be so oblivious.”

“Y/N, these stuff are dangerous!” his anger turns into despair and concern as he sits beside you on the couch. “Baby, why did you take them?”

“Because I’m desperate, Harry!” you snap at him, the hot tears running down your cheeks. “You have no idea what I go through every fucking day!”

“Then talk to me! I want to know everything, I want to help you!” he pleads, reaching for your hand but you move away from him. “Please talk to me, baby!”

“So you can feed me lies? I’m not naïve, Harry,” you shake your head vigorously.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me! I’m talking about… this,” you growl gesturing at yourself. Harry runs his gaze down your body, but he still can’t figure out what this is about. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, he has no idea what the matter is. “I’m not one of your exes and all those models you’ve been rumored to date, Harry.”

“Okay and why is that relevant?”

“Because how am I the right person for someone like you? I’m not skinny, I’m not pretty and I’ll probably never be anything like the girls you dated. Why are you even wasting your time on me?”

By the time you get to the end, your tears are flooding and it breaks Harry’s heart to see you like this. Feeling so unworthy when in his eyes, you deserve everything. You’re perfect.

“I’m not wasting anything on you, baby. Why do you even want to look like them? I love every inch of your beautiful body!”

You flinch at his words. Deep down you know he means them, but there’s this barricade on your mind that tells you he is not serious, that he is only saying those things because he feels like he has to say them, not because he means them. That evil little voice in your head keeps telling you not to believe anything he says.

How could he love your body? How could a man like him be okay with someone like you? He doesn’t want to be with you. He’ll realize it and leave you!

You wish you could turn it off, you wish there was a switch that would shut out all these thoughts, but they just keep coming and coming. Harry watches you break right in front of his eyes and he has no idea what to do, panic is setting in. He feels like a failure that he let you reach this point.

“Baby, I fucking love you. Everything about you. Please don’t feel like you have to change for me. I love you no matter what, I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. If you want to change, do it because you want to do it for yourself! You don’t have to change for me!”

He is practically begging, desperate to get you to understand that you’re perfect to him just the way you are, that he is in love with every inch of your beautiful body. He reaches out to your face again and though you move away again and it pains him so much, he still goes through with the action and cups your face in his hand. His clammy palm meets your wet cheek as he turns your head so he can look into your eyes, but you are relentlessly keeping your gaze focused anywhere but him.

You can’t bear looking at him or yourself, you just want to disappear, vanish into nothing, existence right now feels like just too much.

“Love, please look at me,” he quietly begs and you shake your head no. “Please, let me see those beautiful eyes I love so much.”

You wince at his words and try to turn your head away, but he cups the other side of your face with his other hand, keeping it in place. Your eyes are wired shut, you just can’t look at him, it would break you.

Harry is kneeling next to the couch now where you are curled up, your arms wrapped around your knees as you try to hide yourself. You feel so lost, so miserable and you wish he didn’t see you like this.

“I can’t, Harry. I can’t,” you tell him shaking your head vigorously. Part of you feels so stupid for acting like this, but you just can’t help it. It’s not you anymore who is in charge of your mind and actions, you feel more like just a witness who sees herself from the outside and she doesn’t like what she sees, not even a bit.

Harry pushes himself up from the ground and takes the thick blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you as he shimmies himself next to you, arms wrapping around your frame as he pulls you to his chest, covering you with the warm blanket as if it was some kind of shield from the world and that’s exactly what you need. A hiding spot.

You let him pull you to him, face buried into his chest as you sob into his shirt, his strong arms holding you so tight, you feel like nothing can hurt you with his hold around you.

“I love you, baby. I really do. And when I tell you I find you gorgeous and that how pretty I think you are, that’s the truth. I love everything about you. Fell in love with you the first time I saw you and I’m not even joking. Please don’t ever think that you have to change for me.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about how I’m so different from the people you’ve dated,” you whimper shaking your head. His hands squeeze your upper arm as he kisses the crown of your head.

“Different is not bad, baby. I didn’t date my previous girlfriends because they looked the way they did. If I’m thinking about it, I should feel a little offended you think I’m so shallow to care about these stuff,” he jokes, earning a faint huff that’s somewhat a laugh from you.

“I just think that you’re not blind.”

“That is correct,” he chuckles. “I’m not blind, that’s why I find you so incredibly sexy.”

“I really don’t see how you can use the word sexy to describe me,” you mumble closing your eyes as a headache is starting to form from how hard you were crying just a minute ago.

“What do you think there is on you that I shouldn’t find attractive?” he prompts the question in all seriousness.

“Please don’t get me started because we’ll never get to the end of the list,” you huff bitterly. It might have come out as a joke but there’s just plenty of the truth behind your words.

“No, seriously. Tell me what you think I don’t find attractive on you,” he nags and you give up with a sigh.

“Okay, I… I have fat rolls on my stomach,” you start off with the first thing that’s on your mind.

“Everyone has them.”

“But not as big as mine. Yours aren’t as big as mine.”

“So what? I love your tummy. It’s soft, keeps your organs safe, especially the ones that will help us start a family at one point. For me, your tummy means that you are enjoying the wonderful foods of the world, that you are well and have a great appetite. I fucking hate it when girls are just poking around their salads, complaining about calories and all that stuff. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy watching you eat? I think it might be a fetish at this point,” he chuckles, making you laugh as you hide your face in his chest.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why? I love it when you enjoy the food, I love trying new food with you, cooking with you, see you satisfied when you’re full, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Really?” you ask in a whisper.

“Absolutely. I love your tummy, it’s just even more of you to love on,” he hums kissing the top of your head. “Okay, what’s next?”

“I have so many stretch marks,” you whine with a scowl. “They are everywhere, on my thighs, my ass, my stomach, fucking everywhere!”

“I literally have nothing else to say than… I couldn’t care less. Honestly, most people have them, baby. It’s natural, your body is changing, it’s just trying to keep up with the pace. But you know what I’m looking forward to?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait till you have marks from pregnancy, Love,” he huffs dreamily and you can’t help, but smile at his words. “Those marks will be a reminder to me how much you’ve gone through for our family. I think those are just so wonderful.”

“Why are you linking everything with having babies?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks chuckling. “Because I can’t wait to have babies with you. I can’t wait to see you with a big belly, so I can love on you, take care of you and that our babies, I’m so excited for that.”

“You want all of that… with me?”

“Have I not made it clear to you?” he asks, looking down at you and moving your head your eyes finally meet his. “I’m not just saying all those things for nothing, Love. I see my future with you.”

Closing your eyes you let his words sink in and for the first time in a while, your mind is not trying to convince you that he is not telling you the truth.

“Okay, next,” he mumbles, his fingers dancing up and down your arm as he holds you tight.

“My boobs are weird,” you say out loud, cringing at your own words. You hate talking about this.

“Excuse me? What’s wrong with my girls?” he gasps, making you laugh.

“They are not as round as I would want them to be, a little saggy because of the weight gaining.”

“But they are boobs,” he points out, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, so that’s all that matters. Boobs are great, nothing else matters. Men are simple, baby.”

“I can’t believe you,” you laugh swatting his chest playfully.

“What? I mean it! Do you think I think about all that stuff when I see your boobs? My mind goes: Oh my God, boobs! And that’s it. I just get excited to see your tits.”

“You are such a pig,” you laugh, snuggling closer to his side.

“Are you shaming me for my preferences now?”

“Your preferences?”

“Yeah, you are my preference,” he remarks smugly, kissing into your hair again. “I literally don’t know how to say it differently, and I’m sorry for being so vulgar in advance…”

“Oh God,” you mumble, already fearing what he’s going to say.

“But you have nothing to worry about until you see my dick getting hard at the sight of you.”

“That was highly inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but it’s true. I find you sexy and there’s evidence. I can’t really hide it,” he chuckles and when you look up at him you see a dirty, twisted smirk on his pink lips. “Please don’t ever doubt any of my feelings for you, alright?” he asks in a more serious tone. “And if you feel like this again, I want you to tell me. Those pills and bottling it up inside you don’t help. I don’t want you to risk your health just because you have doubts about me. I love you, and when I say that I mean that I love all of you. Everything.”

“Okay,” you answer in a faint whisper.

“Don’t just say okay because you want me to get out of your hair. Promise me that you won’t keep it to yourself. I want to help you, I want to be there for you like you are always there for me.”

“I promise,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright. Have you eaten today?” he softly asks and you fear to give him an answer, because you haven’t been able to push anything else down than just your morning coffee. “Okay, then let me make you something.” “I don’t… I’m not hungry…” you quietly tell him.

“Mhm, then I’ll make something for myself and being the romantic boyfriend that I am, I’m gonna share it with my lovely girlfriend as a cute gesture,” he says, rephrasing what he said earlier. You don’t argue with him, just let him slip out of your hold and go to the kitchen to make something for the two of you.

It’s a tiny step on a lifelong journey and you know that. You know that your feelings and opinion about yourself won’t change from one day to the other, but you slowly start to accept it. You have a lot ahead of you, the road might get bumpy sometimes and maybe other times you’ll have to take a few steps back. But at the end, you know it’s all going to be alright, because you will never be alone. Harry will be your greatest support through it all and now you can finally see that.

Don’t Worry - The 1975

When you're in love but you don't know what to do with it When blackness hangs overhead like a cloud

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you wake up and you don't know what day it is When the pain flows through your heart and your bones

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you feel no one knows just what you're goin' through When your insides feel much colder than snow

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' Oh, don't worry, darlin' Don't worry, darlin' I'll always love you You

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[myrulia]

omg hi >_<

i just saw your prompt event, congrats on the 600, you deserve more <3

could i possibly get 14? whatever genre you want, go all out, thank you so much :)

.｡.:*✧Prompt 14: "I dream of you almost every night, hopefully I don't wake up this time."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Yandere themes, abduction, shibari

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: I'm just accepting one follower at a time, 600 is still a lot!

Every night, he would follow you.

Every night, he would put you out of harm's way from the shadows.

Every night, he desired you dearly.

Kokushibou, or better known as the Upper Moon One, has harbored feelings for you since he first saw you in your village one night, you walking without a care in the world despite other worldly creatures such as himself having the advantage. You were a human as well, so it was naturally wrong for a demon to develop feelings for the one thing he eats, no?

Of course, the demon has taken this into consideration, but each time he thinks of your face, a nostalgic wave hits him hard in the head, causing his senses to be knocked off for just a bit. Due to you being the cause of this, he wanted to get to the bottom of it as much as possible. 

This proved to be rather difficult.

Over time, the more he tried to figure out reasons as to why he felt this way when he saw your face, and everytime he would come in dangerous proximity with you, his feelings developed more and more to a feral lust of love. Love for you.

The day he found out about this was the day he was just a few feet away from you. Him being in a dark alley, and you walking down the pathway beside it. He got such a picture perfect view of your face and the warming smell of your scent that his addiction to you in general grew even more.

Kokushibou is indeed an honest man and will not deny that he has feelings for you, so now in that same realization, he also believes that you belong to him for those reasons.

He had watched over you so much and protected you without you knowing knowing he felt a sense of entitlement to having you - after all, he did do all of this when he is a man-eating creature bound to the night. He immediately thought that these sacrifices he made towards his goal was all the reason that he should achieve it.

The days that he spent without you near him made the male grow restless in his own skin as his mind wavered to you each and every time he tried to meditate for peace and resolve, but this also failed.

So without a second thought, tonight was the night that he would make you his, whether there were others there or not, his goal shall be achieved. 

He traveled swiftly so that the mission he set his eyes on since the beginning would finally come to an end before the sun rose, giving him a limited amount of hours of leisure time. So with that, it only motivates Kokushibou to move faster. 

Before he knew it he found himself in the same alleyway where he got the first full glimpse of your face, giving him that same warm - almost human like feeling within his undead heart. Just like before, as if the moment was replaying all over again, there you were walking down the same path, yet this time, you stopped.

You stopped and stared.

Kokushibou expected a scream of terror, but instead he was met with your dumbfounded expression.

`` Who are you? ``

You asked with such gentleness, moving closer towards the mysterious figure who was just as dumbfounded as you were, but something inside his nervous system edged him forward, his hand raising to touch you.

`` Who are you talking to, [Y/N]-san? ``

Before the demon could process his next choice of actions, his own body betrayed him by pulling you into the alleyway with him and into his chest. Your face only grew in more confusion, but a large hand covered your mouth before you could give voice to the situation.

`` [Y/N]-san? [Y/N]-sannn?? ``

The stranger's voice called out, but with no response, the human simply turned around in the opposite direction and went about their night as if nothing happened. Pulling his hand away slowly as said person leaves, Kokushibou turns his head and tilts his chin down to get a better look at your state, only to find you staring at his facial features with such enticement and curiosity in your eyes.

Seeing you in such ways sent the demon's feelings in disarray once more. It was as if he was in the past again, because standing before him, from over 400 years ago, was his former human wife. He looked around, lost in his own memory before your voice called out to him, bringing him from the small flashback.

`` Sir, do I know yo- hey wait! ``

Suddenly you were thrown over Kokushibou's shoulder and felt the chilled wind on your face as you moved with such speed out of the village that you were left utterly astonished. Yes, you did know that demons exist and their natural diet is humans, but something told you this one was different - and you were always raised to trust your judgement.

Although curiosity does kill the cat.

`` Where are you taking me? Who are you and why are you abducting me?! ``

`` We will be home soon. ``

That was all that came from the demon's lips, and just like that you found yourself in a massive building with rooms and staircases coming from every direction. Your eyes tripled in size, being truly taken aback by your new surroundings and how it seemed impossible to be true.

Kokushibou opened a door to a certain room in what he knew was the Infinity Fortress, setting you down on your bottom - but being quick in his moments he tied you up with a specific type of shibari you have not seen before. It was the type you had seen samurai use in the books provided by your caregivers, but the one before you looked nothing of the samurai you saw in your books.

The thing before you was unmistakably a demon.

A man eating-demon that now had you as its prey.

Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, doubting your judgement and kind spirit from the very beginning and even allowing yourself to become so easy of a target. You pushed yourself by your feet until your back hit a wall, skin trembling in fear at what your future holds. Kokushibou merely took slow strides in your direction, kneeling down and using his index finger to lift your chin up so he could examine your face better.

`` It is no mistake, you are meant to be here, my love from so long ago. ``

You jerked your head back, lips trembling to get any sort of words out, but as you got a visible view of the demon's fangs, worry set in your bones.

`` I have no cl..clue what you speak of, but we have not met before. ``

Kokushibou tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, moving so that his much bigger form was looming over your own.

`` You in this time period may not remember, but you from the past does. You have always been mine, and this has sealed it. Our fates tie together, my dear. ``

You had no idea what the man before you spoke of, but you too felt a nostalgic feeling as he grew closer and closer, although the fear that latched onto your nervous system would not let go.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand touched your cheek, your gazes never daring to tear away from each other. With your hands tied it was not like you could escape so easily, as well as your legs being tied together so that you could not run either. You were helpless and out of control of your situation, tears pricking your eyes at this fact.

`` I dream of you almost every night, hopefully I don't wake up this time. We will now be together again, my love, and nothing can change that. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

[parker-razor]

show me, feel me, teach me - ch. 4

previous // next

series masterlist!

female!reader x mando

word count: 2.8k

series summary: during a drinking game, you let slip that you don’t know much about sex. mando offers to show you what you’ve been missing, and you happily accept.

warnings: smut that’s so filthy it’s insane (extended warnings under the cut), lotssss of fluff, mentions of insecurities

a/n: today’s the first day i didn’t have to work in awhile and i had to write some more... this chapter in particular made me all blushy so lemme grab my vibrator real quick

extended warnings: somnophilia, oral (m and f receiving), thigh riding, grinding, cum eating, masturbation, multiple orgasms

*****

You watched Mando as he hauled the heavy, limp bounty up the ramp of the ship. You had offered to help, but Mando, ever the gentleman, refused. So, you and the kid watched him drag the lifeless body into the Crest, and into carbonite.

Apparently, Mando had gotten so excited to see you when he made it back to the ship last night that he abandoned the body at the foot of the ship and scurried inside and into your quarters. It wasn’t like the body was going anywhere, Mando had argued. He just needed to see you.

After your little… chat over the comm, Mando was still rearing to be with you. As soon as you had fallen asleep at the end of your call, he jumped to his feet and continued on his hunt at a speed he had yet to hunt at. He had thought that after getting some of his drive for you out of his system that he could rest for a while before he kept hunting. But just the opposite happened; hearing your voice, your moans, the way your words hit him right in the chest… Maker he just had to get back to you.

He couldn’t help himself when he saw you splayed out on your bed. Your tank top was almost see through, and you only had a pair of underwear on as bottoms. He just needed a taste.

After he quietly stripped his armor and clothes off him, he gently pulled your underwear down to your knees and knelt down on the bed. He must’ve not smelled too great after days of hunting, but he was too drunk on your presence to be self-conscious.

He couldn’t stop himself from delving between your thighs, making out with your dripping cunt. It must have still been wet from your earlier orgasm, or maybe you were dreaming of him. Maker, he hoped you were.

You were asleep, so it didn’t totally matter if he tasted you with any technique or rhythm. Flicking your clit with no real purpose other than to have your taste in his mouth, to have his tongue flooded with your essence. His cock hardened at an ungodly rate, and he couldn’t help but start stroking himself fast. He didn’t care about his pleasure, or frankly your pleasure; he just wanted to taste you.

All the sudden, he heard you speak up, and you were coming into his mouth with a vengeance, and he came all over his hand with you.

He didn’t want to bother you too much, so he figured one orgasm was enough (for now). He crawled up to you, kissing your shoulders and your neck and your cheeks. You had no doubt fallen back to sleep by then, and Mando was overwhelmed with sleep as well. He drifted off with his head rested on your chest, your hands carded through his curls as his breathing slowed.

Mando had never been with a woman like he had been with you. Sure, he hadn’t technically been with you in the biblical sense just yet, but this was so different. He had had one-night stands when he had time to spare on a hunt, some girl in a bar who gawked at his armor who he figured would be willing to let him get his frustrations out. A grateful damsel he saved, who was coincidentally being attacked by the bounty he was tracking. Not many women, but enough to know just what he was doing and just how to make someone writhe in pleasure.

But you… you were radiant.

Your beauty was unconventional; your skin rolled around your waist, your stomach hung over just a little with stretch marks littering your inner thighs and hips. When you slept, your neck folded into little rolls. But Mando adored all of it. Not in a patronizing way, but because you were truly just gorgeous. Not despite of your flaws, but because of them. They weren’t flaws to Mando, they were just what made you more and more perfect.

Many of the women he had been with exaggerated their pleasure. It wasn’t fake, just turned up a bit because they figured it would make Mando more confident. Mando hated that, when women would be dramatic when displaying their pleasure. You never did that, though. Your sounds were… primal. Like you were trying to hold them in, but you felt so good that you couldn’t help it. They were involuntary grunts, yells, and gasps. Just the memory of it made Mando hard under his armor.

Not to mention, you had never felt this way before. You didn’t know that there was an expectation for women to be loud and exaggerated in bed. The sounds you made were all you, and that is what got to Mando most.

Mando was pulled out of his daydreams as you approached him, feeling around his arms and shoulders.

“Do you have any cuts? What do you need treated? We don’t have a ton of bacta kits left, but if you really need it then-“

“I’m okay, I’m not hurt. Just a little bruised. All I want is some food and to hang out with you and the kid.”

You and Mando had grown accustomed to eating or drinking back-to-back since the drinking game that started all of this. It was better than Mando locking himself away in his quarters; he hadn’t shared a meal with someone in years. But being able to chat with you and enjoy his food was a luxury.

“What did this guy do?” you asked as you munched on some bread and cheese.

“No clue. They never really tell me, which I kinda get. A lot of these guys are scum bags, they should be ashamed,” Mando responded, taking a sip of water.

“Did this one put up a fight?”

“At first, but then he realized he couldn’t beat me.” You shivered for a moment, thinking about Mando’s strength. You knew the armor added another layer to make him seem bigger and stronger, but even without it he was built. He didn’t have a six-pack, he wasn’t totally shredded, but Maker, was he strong. His arms, his chest, his broad fucking shoulders, they made you needy. You had seen him knock out a man in one punch, some guy who had grabbed your ass at a bar. You didn’t know at the time why you felt an ache between your legs when you saw that, but now you do after your lessons.

After you had both eaten and fed Grogu, Mando decided it was time to depart to catch his second bounty. You grabbed any gear still lingering outside the ship, secured any loose weapons, and in no time Mando was preparing to take off. You were off to Naboo this time, a planet you had been dying to visit. Almost all of the planets Mando had taken you to were either barren or covered in buildings, large urban areas. Naboo was green, apparently, with beautiful buildings and cascading waterfalls. You couldn’t wait.

Mando sat in the pilot’s chair as you sat behind him in the passenger’s seat. Grogu, still exhausted from the three-day strike on sleep, snoozed in his enclosed pram in the captain’s quarters. So it was just you and Mando…

It was a bumpy takeoff; although Mando was a great pilot, the Crest wasn’t exactly shiny and new. The ship left Tattoine’s atmosphere, and after a few minutes of cruising in empty space, Mando put the ship into hyperspace.

It was quiet as Mando hit some random buttons and you watched the stars fly by you at an insane speed. You thought about last night, not remembering much other than coming hard. Were you dreaming? You remember waking to Mando’s arms around your waist and his face buried in your chest, but everything during the night was a blur.

“When… when you came back last night, did you fall right to sleep? Or did you-“

“Eat your pussy? Yeah, I just wanted to taste you. I hope that’s okay.” You gulped, slightly shocked at Mando’s bluntness. You were only really used to hearing him talk dirty while in the act, not him bringing it up so casually. You squirmed a bit in your seat, causing Mando to turn back to look at you.

“What, you like that? You like that I couldn’t wait for you to wake up before I tasted your cum? Yeah, I bet you do, pretty girl,” he rasped, making you whine and your legs clench together.

“Why don’t you come sit?”

“I’m… already sitting, Mando.”

“No, come sit over here, with me. On me.” Stars.

You rose from your seat as Mando turned his chair to face you so you’d have room to sit without the control panel in the way. His legs spread, and he sat back in his chair with his arms resting on his knees. Kriff, he looked so fucking good.

You weren’t sure how Mando wanted you to sit on him, so you straddled one of his thighs, gasping as the hard metal plate met your core.

“Oh, is that what you want, sweet thing? You wanna sit on my thigh?”

“Yeah Mando, can I please?”

“Of course, baby, just wasn’t expecting you to sit on me like that.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in closer to him. As you moved closer, you couldn’t ignore the way it felt when you rubbed yourself on his armored thigh. It felt fucking good, the same friction you felt when Mando would use his fingers on you. Out of instinct, you couldn’t help but do it again.

“Oh fuck, is my good girl gonna grind on my thigh? Does that feel good?” You whined, Mando’s hands grasping your hips to encourage your movements. “Go ahead, baby, get yourself off on me. Take what’s yours.”

“M-Mando… feels s-so good…” Your hips sped up as the friction continued to nurse the ache growing in your cunt.

“Want it to feel better, honey? Here, let me show you,” Mando groaned, lifting you so you were planted not on his thigh, but directly over his crotch. He wasn’t wearing a codpiece, you didn’t expect him to when all he was doing was flying. So you gasped when you felt his hard cock rub up against you cunt.

“Oh, s-stars, Mando, I like this a lot…”

“Yeah? You like feeling my cock rub on you? Go ahead, grind on it, make yourself feel good.” His grip on your hips were bruising as you ground your pussy hard onto his crotch. The head of his cock nudged itself right against your clit between your clothes, making your eyes cross and hands grasp at Mando’s shoulders.

“Oh, I bet that feels s-so good, pretty girl, it feels good for m-me too… Fuck, I can feel how wet you are, it’s seeping through my pants. Keep going, you’re doing so good for me.”

Your moans got louder and louder, sounding out as “uh uhs.” Your eyebrows creased together, and Mando grabbed your cheeks to tilt your eyes down towards his.

“Look at me, baby, let me see you when you cum. Let me look into your eyes. Maker, your p-pussy is so wet, I can feel it. Come on baby I know you wanna cum, go ahead and cum.” You were shouting now, your moans echoing in the cockpit. This was the closest the two of you had gotten to fucking, and the idea of Mando’s cock being so close to your cunt sent you over the edge.

Warmth flooded you, and your legs shook violently as you came. Your thighs clenched over and over around his hips, keeping your eyes right on his visor.

“Fuck, Mando, fuck fuck, Mando, Mando!”

“Yeah, that’s it, good girl. So f-fucking good for me.” As you came down, you noticed Mando was still hard. And you still wanted him.

“Can… Can I have you? In my mouth?”

“Shit, baby, you want me to cum in your mouth?”

“Please, Mando, want you to feel good. Want your cock down my throat.” You shakily climbed off his lap and knelt to the ground. Your hands trembled as they came up to his pants, tugging at the waistband until his cock sprung up against his armor. You looked at the thigh you had just been grinding on, and saw there was a wet spot staining his armor. It made you want to cum again.

“I’m not gonna last long baby, already so close,” Mando rasped out, his chest heaving up and down in anticipation.

“I don’t care, I just need you to tell me what to do.”

“Gladly, sweet girl. Start by licking the tip, yeah just like that.” You flicked the bead of precum leaking from Mando’s cock, his taste flooding your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the tip, eventually licking down his shaft. You had almost forgotten how big he was… almost.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good. Y-You want to put it in your mouth now? You got this, baby, take it nice and- oh f-fuck me.” Your actions interrupted Mando’s train of thought, his cock entering the warm wet of your mouth. You weren’t totally sure what to do from there; Mando had just said he wanted his cock in your mouth, so now what?

“Okay, baby, you know how you stroked my cock with your hand the other day? Just do the same with your mouth, and suck while you do it. G-gonna do so well for me, I know it.” You did as he said, and his reaction was instantaneous. He moaned out so loud you’d think the whole ship could hear it. It finally hit you that Mando’s cock was in your mouth, and stars if that didn’t make a new wave of wetness flood your inner thighs. You couldn’t stop yourself from pushing your hand down your pants, rubbing your clit like Mando taught you as you sucked on him.

“H-Holy shit, baby, are you touching yourself? You rubbing that little clit? Do I make you that wet, pretty one? F-Fuck you’re doing so good, feels so good. Y-You’re a natural…” His words made you moan around his cock, the vibrations making his hips buck up into your mouth. For a second he was worried he’d gone too far, until you pushed your head down even further.

“Fuck, such a g-good girl for me, g-gonna cum in your m-mouth, d-don’t stoppp.” You sucked hard at the tip as your fingers circled faster on your clit, and you were already falling over the edge. Mando’s cum flooded your mouth as he moaned out your name, and his taste made you writhe on your fingers, white flooding your vision. The whines around Mando’s cock as you came made his orgasm last even longer, leaving him totally breathless. It took him a moment to realize that you were still probably holding his cum in your mouth, causing him to jump up and come to your aid.

“Shit, baby, here’s a rag, you can-“ He was stopped short when he noticed you breathing heavily below you, mouth agape and… empty.

“Wait, what did you do with…”

“I swallowed it. I like how you taste,” you whined, totally out of breath and fucked out. Mando’s head hit the back of his seat in awe of how hot you were, swallowing his cum the first time you took him in your mouth, just because you liked it.

“Fuck, come here, baby. Come sit in my lap, let me love on you.” You clambered up into his lap with shaky legs, overwhelmed with the amount of dopamine that flooded your brain. You were still trying to catch your breath as you rested your head on his shoulder as he rubbed your back. These were the moments you held with you when Mando was gone; his comforting touch, how gentle he was despite the damage you knew he could do. You kissed the sliver of skin that peaked out between his collar and his helmet, at which he pulled you in closer to his chest.

All the sudden you heard a crash from below the cockpit and a loud wail… Grogu.

*****

tag list: @niiight-dreamerrrr @ajeff855 @ohhersheybars @sleep-tight1 @jefferson-in-the-tardis @constanzee @halerune @liltangerineart @thewintersoldierswife @ah-callie @witchy-ana @chibi @greyteacup @justanotherblonde23 @hotsauceonabiscuit @pcrushinnerd @altarsw @nerd-without-a-cause @yajairaholmes @stardust-kenobi

[storiesofsvu]

The Washington Saga Pt 6

Elizabeth Keane x fem!reader A portion of Penthouse Warnings: language, lots of political drama, mention of SVU canon style violence.

The next morning, by the time your alarm went off you rolled over, reaching for Beth’s warmth, your eyes squinting open as you realized she wasn’t there. The silence of the entire suite making you realize that she had already left for the office, causing you to grumble, turning off the alarm as you rubbed at your eyes, moving through the room to step into the shower to help wake you up.

Casey thankfully was up, and had breakfast waiting for you on the stove, a note saying she had just stepped out with Nic and would be back by the time office hours commenced. You shot out a text to Rob, letting him know what your plans were for the day, and that you would be working from the residence’s office unless otherwise needed. It just made things easier having you and Casey in the same room instead of running back and fourth, or running mountains of paperwork between the office in the residence and the office in the West Wing.

Casey came back an hour later, asking if it was okay if she dropped Nic off and went to do a quick workout. You waved her off, settling into the office as you began to dig though O’Keefe’s files. It was only once she returned that you very reluctantly turned on one of his podcasts. Casey was digging through the links of his podcasts and the people mentioned, meanwhile you were taking over actually listening to the bullshit,

You let out a groan as you clicked play on the one Casey had left off on, already over the amount of crap you were going to have to listen to. Your brow furrowed within a couple of moments of Brett’s voice echoing though the office.

“What?” Casey asked, noticing your confusion, and then the sudden realization wash over your face.

“Oh my god! OH my god!” You suddenly scrambled, pulling up both your cell phone as you dialled Cutter back in New York at the same time your other hand scrambled to toss the desk phone on speaker, requesting to be put through to Dunbar.

“What!?” She asked again more insistently and you eyes shot up to her.

“His name isn’t Brett! That’s why we haven’t been able to find anything on him. His name’s Daniel!” Casey shot back to her computer, plugging the name into the system.

“There’s warrants for this guy’s arrest?”

“Yeah! Because he’s out on bail and ran! I arraigned him in New York—Mike, hey, I need you to pull the files for an open case of mine. Daniel O’Keefe. Yeah. Yes! Call Benson, get her to call me…I think he’s in D.C.”

“He is!” Casey cut in and you turned to her.

“You sure?”

“I’ve got an address.” She turned the screen to you and you swore.

“Yeah…” you turned your attention back to Mike, “can you fax that over to me? I’ll text you the number.”

“Sweetheart?” Heather’s voice flowed in through the speaker of your other phone and you jumped, nearly dropping your cell as you shot off the info to Cutter.

“Ms Dunbar. Shit. I’m so sorry, I need new warrants for someone who skipped bail.”

“What are the charges?”

“Circulating and distributing child pornography.”

“Is this really something the White House needs to look into?” Heather asked.

“He also happens to be where the Andrew video was posted from.”

“Well then.” You could practically hear the smirk in her voice, “I guess we’ll have to seize all of his electronics.”

“Thank you!”

“Stop by my office in an hour, I should have them ready for you by then.”

“Thank you so much M’am.”

“Of course.”

A quiet click as she hung up, no doubt heading off to help you with the situation. The fax machine beeped as the paperwork came in from Manhattan, Casey attended to that as you dialled another number on the desk phone.

“Carrie?” You asked as she answered.

“Yeah. Did you find something?”

“More than something. I’m gonna need someone to go through some tech, what was the name of that guy who put surveillance into your house?”

“Max?”

“Yes! You trust him still?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect. Call him. In the next twenty four hours I’ll have stuff for him to search through.”

“On it.”

Another click as she hung up to do as you’d asked. You glanced up to Casey who looked up from the case file.

“You really think this’ll work?”

“It’ll solve at least one of our problems.” You replied hastily, tugging on your blazer while you scrambled to pick up your phone, keys, I.D and pass key.

“Hey.” Casey stalled you, grabbing your shoulders to ground you back to earth, “breathe…okay….if you go diving into this without thinking you might fuck yourself over…believe me…I would know.”

“Okay…okay…” you took a couple of breaths, thanking Casey for reeling you back in, “can you call Saul? Update him on this, I’m gonna go fill in Rob and Beth, pick up the warrants, and find…a cop? A fed? Someone who can arrest this asshole.”

“Okay.”

**

You were honestly a little surprised with how smoothly the rest of the day went, and it gave you a little bit of a worry some headache. It felt too easy, like there was another shoe that was about to drop, you knew how cases like these worked, and to be doing it on a much higher scale, with much more at stake, made you nervous. But at least for now, you knew what you were doing, it was no different reading over the warrants Heather gave you and staking out O’Keefe’s place until you were sure he was home.

You let the agents move up to the door, holding back a laugh as Daniel was actually dumb enough to step off his property to talk to them before he was suddenly thrown into cuffs. You cocked a brow as you moved toward him, your heels clicking on the pavement.

“Mr O’Keefe…ya miss me?”

He let out a low chuckle as his features shifted, recognizing and realizing where he knew you from.

“You really wasted your precious time coming all the way out here to track me down?” He laughed, “over some petty charges no one could really be bothered with?”

“Cute.” You let out a small laugh, “but I’m not here on behalf of the New York D.A’s office. I’m here on behalf of the President.” You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched the colour drain from his face, “just a happy little coincidence, don’t ya think?” You smirked as the fed guided him into the back of the car, “so…you better start thinking about talking. Otherwise I’m going to pull out every single charge I can against you, we clear?”

The car door was shut before he could properly answer you, not that he had a witty remark ready. He knew he was in deep trouble, it was just unclear to you just how much of a mess he’d gotten himself into. You passed off the warrants to the other investigators, insisting that they do a full and extensive sweep to get every single last electronic device, and search places they didn’t even realize could be hiding spots before you stepped back into your own car. Settling into the back seat you let out a heavy breath, step one had been finding O’Keefe, step two had been arresting him. You reminded yourself that this was all moving in the right direction, and things would fall into place, trying to stop worrying that things were about to go South. You just still had a bad feeling about this.

**

O’Keefe was in an interrogation room back at the Capitol, a single hand cuffed to the table as Carrie and Saul paced on the other side of the glass waiting for you and Casey. Their heads shot up at the sound of the door opening, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of you with a case file in your hand as you strode through the room.

“I am allowed to take this interview, right?” You double checked.

“It’s your collar, technically.” Carrie replied and you raised a brow.

“All things considered I don’t want whoever his attorney ends up being doing some digging and thinking this is personal.”

“You took his original case in Manhattan, right?” Saul asked and you nodded, “and who else knows about your relationship with the President?”

“Current company, Rob, and a small yet trustworthy few people in New York.”

“Then I think you’re set Counsellor.” Saul nodded and you huffed out a breath, nodding to Casey to follow you into the room.

“You had enough time to think things over?” You greeted, your arms crossing over your chest as you leant against the wall to face O’Keefe.

“Depends what we’re talking about.” He replied and you rolled your eyes.

“You know that they’re going through your computers, your phone. Every. Single. Piece. Of electronic equipment you own is being swept by government officials right now. Not to mention your house. Any and everything you’ve tried to hide over the past four years is going to come out to play. They’re going to find all those hard drives of kiddie porn Daniel…and they’re going to find wherever you got that video from.”

“What video?”

“The one you published about Andrew Keane. You know….if you had stayed silent and not opened your big fat mouth you never would have even had to worry about us finding you. You’ll do five years max on the Manhattan charges, though…I’m not sure how much they’ll add on for skipping bail…”

“And you think you can stick what? Extortion charges on me?” He laughed.

“Oh cute…” you laughed, “you’re one of the ones who likes to pretend he knows how the legal system works despite having no idea.” You pushed off the wall, “I’m starting to realize that you’re not going to be cooperative Mr O’Keefe, so..when you want to talk, I’ll be available. Otherwise, enjoy prison.”

You left the room swiftly, Casey on your heels, and honestly, she was immensely proud of how well you’d pulled it off. You briefly heard Saul muttering something to Carrie about how Keane should keep you on staff before you turned back to them, asking if there was anything else you could do that day.

It was honestly already pretty late, O’Keefe would be transferred to holding until he was willing to speak, or until he found a lawyer and posted bail. You were exhausted, wanting nothing more than to get home, it had been one hell of a long day, and you found your head drooping to Casey’s shoulder as your SUV drove back to the White House.

Back in the residence Beth raised a brow at the two of you, knowing the day you’d had and what you’d been indulging into.

“I think we got him.” You murmured, kissing her cheek softly, “but he won’t confess yet. I’ve got people working on it.”

“I knew you’d do a wonderful job.” She replied with a smile as you retreated into the bedroom to change into comfier clothes.

“Have you made dinner?” You called back, pulling one of her NYU hoodies over your frame.

“Honestly, I was just about to order pizza, I just wanted to double check with you girls first.” Beth chuckled.

“Your can order pizza here?” Casey asked as she stepped out of her bedroom.

“I mean, it’s gotta go through a few security breeches but yeah.” You laughed back, pressing a kiss to Beth’s cheek, “you know what I like.” You moved to pour out a few glasses of wine. “Though it won’t compare to New York pizza.”

“Oh will you get over that!” Beth teased and you replied with a gentle kiss that Casey couldn’t help but smile at, watching just how in love you were.

“Last time I checked you were from Manhattan M’am.” You replied with a smirk.

“This isn’t Chicago.” She replied with a gleam in her eye as she shot out on order on her phone, swatting at your hip before letting Thomas know what was coming.

The three of you settled into your comfortable nightly routine. You sipped back on wine, making sure Nic was fed, the three of you giving him the appropriate amount of snuggles as you waited for your pizza. It was only when you’d dropped down onto the couch, paying attention to the t.v when things changed.

Your phone had been on the island, vibrating as you filled up everyone’s wine glasses. According to Thomas the pizza was less than five minutes away and about to be devoured.

“Summers, you’re on speaker.” You replied, clicking the call.

“I need you to not freak out.” It didn’t take long for you and Casey to register Alex’s voice ringing through the speaker.

“Okay but the last time you said that it was worth a freak out.” You replied, the bottle of wine clunking against the counter, “if this is something related to a google alerts maybe reconsider because of who’s listening.”

“Oh..” Alex paused, “oh my god is she there?!”

Beth let out a hearty laugh, her eyes meeting your as she remembered your conversations about how politically obsessed Alex was.

“Hi Alex.” She teased and you swatted in her direction as you passed her a glass of wine.

“Holy shit.”

“What’s the call about Lex?” Casey redirected and the blonde sighed through the phone.

“I need you to not freak out.”

“You already said that.”You replied, passing Casey a glass of wine.

“Liz is in the hospital.”

There was a tense pause, specifically as the three of you glanced between each other before you addressed Alex again with a shaky voice.

“Like you fucked her so hard her hip dislocated in the hospital or someone brought a gun into the courtroom kinda in the hospital?” You asked and Alex couldn’t help but laugh, the sound calming all of you down.

“She’s insisting she’s fine.” Everyone let out a breath, “but she took a syringe of potassium chloride.”

“What!?” You nearly shouted.

“Yeah. Kristen was on the case, but this asshole has already taken out a bunch of people.”

“Is Liz okay?” You asked hesitantly.

“She’s Liz.” Alex huffed, “honestly the only reason I found out was because Olivia and Elliot carried her to the hospital.”

“Lex I can’t come back right now.” You huffed, taking a hefty sip of wine, “we just opened an investigation, and I’m going to need to follow it through.”

“And Liz would rather die than let people see her in a hospital gown.” Alex laughed, “she won’t even tell me what hospital she’s at.”

“Are you sure?” You asked softly, glancing between Beth and Casey.

“Yes! I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Okay. Thanks Lex.”

*

It was hours later, after dinner, drinks and the like that everyone had wound down from the day. You stepped back into the bedroom from the en suite, slipping under the covers with Beth.

“You okay?” You murmured as you kissed at her shoulder and she chuckled softly, rolling to face you.

“With someone like you having my back? Absolutely.” She pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I…meant more about the Liz stuff.” You ducked your gaze, not wanting to to meet her eyes.

“You know you’re allowed to go back to New York little one. I can get someone else to step in on the O’Keefe case. I’m sure Heather knows a few people.”

“But..I don’t want to…” your eyes shifted up to her, “I know I have a past with Liz, but as Alex said…..she isn’t one to appreciate being seen as a victim. Me going there would only create more drama. And…..I think you already know this but you’re all I care about.”Beth inched toward you with a smile, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “I just want you.”

“Then let’s make the best of what time we have.” She whispered back, her lips softly meeting yours.

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