#they are very demanding haha I don’t think about them for a few months and they pop in my head like HMMM

[blorbosexterminator]

Noo I was so looking forward seeing the twins again for the Berlermo Blockbuster I thought they would win 😭 😭 😭 But they will return another time, right? No pressure, I just miss them and happy for every opportunity to read about them even if just as cameos like the toy aliens in Roccinan's fic 😆

The twins sadly couldn't hold up against the allure of period drama gay quiet tragedies with three lines of dialogue total.

But yes! They absolutely will. I was working on the sequel and the Swan's Symphony just came up and pushed it aside to no fault of my own haha but the sequel, whenever it'll appear, is certainly one of my main WIPs and will see the light one day. The Swan's Symphony just greedily stole all my attention, and because both of them happen to occur through the framework of heists, it's difficult for me to write two heists without wanting to die LMFAO.

But I miss the twins just the same (and so, so happy to know that you still like and want more of them! Truly!) and since the Swan's Symphony will probably not be over soon, I might collect the small scenes and write more of them that I have in mind, that occur between the twins being 10-11 in the original and 17 in the sequel. The 7 years in between leave me some good space to write little fun stories of their everyday lives, holidays, small heists, and general shenanigans haha.

The Toy Story cameos were incredible. It killed me the moment they appeared and imprinted on Martín. That's exactly what he deserved!

[sminiac]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡ Bad Miracle | Day 24 of Piwontober !

⋆ Ex Bf!Choi Jiung x Reader

Event hosted by my beloved @kisseobie & @sxfterhearts <3

Prompts — Seduction, Against a wall, Somnophilia.

Contains — Alcohol consumption, saliva consumption, slight exhibitionism, oral, porn with plot, sex in a vehicle, very heavily ‘Nope’ referenced, Jiung being kind of pathetic.

💌 — This is quite a lengthy read which is genuinely my bad, I got so carried away, I just love Jordan Peeles brain. If there’s any consistencies pretend there isn’t, I’ll be making tweaks here and there to this even though it’s already posted, I was just worried abt getting it out haha, thanks :b

“So…slutty Jean Jacket it is?”

Of course Jongseob happens to string together his most unpleasant sounding set of words and absentmindedly spews them out at you, precisely summing up your biggest internal struggle.

It’s like he’s petulantly flicking salt into the gaping deep seated wound of guilt that hollows you out.

Despite your torment, it still eats at what’s left of you for subjecting him to even more of your off-putting behaviour that’s only worsened over the past few weeks leading up to the party. Unknown by him, you’ve been fighting with the same question the entire ride out, it’s been sitting in your mouth, warm and heavy like a bad bite you just can’t swallow.

Maybe you deserve it. Fortunately Seob’s tolerance for your fret without a readily available solution to wash it down, disinfect you of the bile, is astounding—gold medal deserving, even though your plastic display case now feeling more like cardboard box because of your ex’s absence.

Seob is already frequently withdrawn because of his jobs demanding schedule, leaving him socially deprived, added an unhealthy addiction to energy drinks that only makes his screen induced migraines worse.

Funnily enough, with the proclivity for being a cloistered insomniac he possesses the biggest hatred for being alone. Impromptu hangouts are a norm, or—were a norm, especially the late voluntary hours you spent with him watching over the dingy looking bookstore that smells heavily of dried glue and mildewed paper. You haven’t been there in a while, but you didn’t mind how often you were staring at the same ‘Employees favourites!’ end cap that have held the same boring books for the past handful of months that he’s been collecting the same boring bi-weekly cheques.

It’s a different kind of bonding, what the two of you do, one where you don’t feel pressured to constantly entertain the other, which is why there’s a remarkable lack of awkward tension now.

It’s normal for Seob to be spacey once trapped in that busy head of his, full of silent yearning for a position in the lively music store that’s just down the street from his, even with what little room his discontent leaves up there, he doesn’t lack the critical thinking skills that it takes to figure out the foundation of your ulterior motive, which he assumes was the very thing that led to your sudden call for a ride after being so steadfast in your refusal to attend a party that you know fully well he’ll be at.

The fact that Seob grudgingly agreed to your company for the ride here doesn’t mollify your stacking inhibitions anymore than the culpability thats balling up in your throat, keeping your tongue tangled and barred in its enclosure, a strange thing he implicitly feels inclined to shoulder too.

A finger adjusts the strap of your wings that uncomfortably dig into the soft part of your underarm, its already a struggle conducting the sexy inwardly it doesn’t help that he sounds so dejected talking about your version of the large horse hunting saucer.

Flowing light with each sway of your hips the white mini skirt you hunted for is hugging nicely at your hips, while silently you endure the tedious task of having to pull up the thin cheap-feeling socks every few meters you walk, which isn’t something you have to explicitly express your loathing for anyways, he could already tell by the third yank.

But, you look good, even with the excessive effort and inconveniences, you know you do.

All of your details, even down to the pair of red lace panties that shape you in just the right places, is for the sole purpose of what you’re walking into now—your secretive plan, which, if you outright ask Seob, is inherently a horrible idea, but even in all of its horrid glory you still pursue it tirelessly for the sake of having the smooth voiced male to yourself for just another night.

Dead set on getting your turn one last time, the intemperate lengths you went to for your costume would make sure of it. You’d make yourself a spectacle if thats what it takes to have him back in your optics.

Indiscriminately walking out from the shallow line of trees that taper off in thickness the further you come from the main road while actively sexualizing angels of all things, right in front of your squeamish, personification of virginity looking friend is the most anticlimactic, shameful culmination of what is —notably one of your more desperate attempts yet— made to somehow, some way, successfully seduce someone, and subsequently not how Seob envisioned his night out. Never has he ever seen you in something so indecent, so vile in the most watered down, gentle of words.

All of this, for what? Closure? He doesn’t get it, your intentions, the enervating process of breaking up only to then come back? Yeah, all of that and still somehow having the profound drive to do whatever it is you’re up to. He doesn’t fucking get it.

Fictitious or not you believe that somewhere past his denial and shaping of resentment there’s a sliver of him that supports you, in a: it’s just dick, do it! Way.

Besides, you could always do much worse than sleeping with your ex.

Your eyes are still focused on his location and nothing but. Zooming in, flicking out and refreshing the map that Jiung’s idle avatar sits on like some psycho stalker. You’ve been like this, acutely anxious and insufferably inquisitive ever since he parked his mom’s vehicle off the side of the dark secluded road when your map had suddenly gave out and stopped working due to the abrupt cutoff from service, it was in Jongseob’s opinion undeniably foreboding to how the rest of your evening was going to play out, but keeping a handle on his lips would probably be for the best.

With two vodka seltzers already settling into his system that you bravely shotgunned together in the front seat of the silver mini van, he’s already so dreadfully bored that not even his oncoming buzz is enough to make this enjoyable. He sighs a loud antagonizing breath, looking off his shoulder to see the small scattered twinkling mix of orange and purple hues starting to leak through the bushes, a muddled, faint sound of music and drunk laughter following.

Usually he’d be anxious to get to your destination but all he can think about is being home—getting plastered in the safety of his own cluttered room, with you, in comfy pyjamas and within the range of expensive fast-food delivery services instead of having to worry if some asshole with beer induced confidence is enough to get you to strip of that tiny fucking skirt, because when you’re drunk he’s convinced you were a track star in your past life, he hates sports, and he hates a floating drunk just as much as the talkative ones.

“You hear me?” He tsks, pinching at the cheap pair of wings on your back and tugging on it. His fresh bi-coloured hair that you did by hand sweeps with the motion of his suddenly weighted head, falling to the side of the dirt path that you walk, studying your face in the cool toned glow of your screen.

Hoping to catch a glimpse of Jiung, you’re too focused on tapping through the few stories people have posted to care for the small feathers he accidently rips out, leaving a bald spot on your right wing.

You swat his hand away, still cradling your phone. “Slutty…bad, yeah i know, you despise me. But it’s…fitting, isn’t it?”

God, he thinks, if only it were that easy.

He watches as you slide up out of the app, and then promptly tap it back open again, eyes rolling for the umpteenth time tonight “What? The sexualization of a territorial slaughtering alien? You can’t be serious.” Hands stuff further into the pockets of the baggy denim that hangs at hips, a thick braided chain hung off the loops of his waistband, clanking with the dramatic rise.

Who does he think he is? Acting all high and mighty. “You’re the one who speculated that Jean Jacket found OJ worthy of mating with, this is all your doing, boy. And, arguably, your costume isn’t even really a costume but I’m not saying anything about that.”

If you were to ask the rest of the friend group who has all taken a sudden, unexpected interest in the 2022 sci-fi thriller movie —that in your opinion is more of a psychological-thriller than horror— they’d make quite the defensive argument about it, the same way you expect Seob to with his half-assed take on Angel Torres.

“That’s insane, so you want to mate with Intak? ‘Cause that’s what I’m hearing. If you’re so interested I can go grab him for you, or…would you rather take a ride on the cowboy?” He says it to be annoying, he didn’t mean it literally, but whatever he intended or didn’t the offer catches your attention.

Big unsure eyes peer over at him as you hug your phone close to your chest, which he already knows is your only source of heat that’s preventing stiff fingers and chattering teeth. Another thing to roll his eyes about.

“If it saves a horse. You wouldn’t mind finding him from me?” The question comes with an abrupt pause, your feet just as uncertain as your tongue. “I- well shouldn’t we, i mean, how do you think he’d feel if i showed up with you? He was never fond of how close we are, so, should I walk up by myself?” If only you knew of how badly Jongseob wants to call you out for your stupidity right now, to slap your pretty face with both the flat surface of his palm and the back of his hand like they do in the cartoons. Before his lips can even move with the ghost of an insult, an unexpected laugh beats him to the sheer hilarity of your unnecessary complexities. “Wow- no? Thats fuckin’ pathetic, Y/N, I was being sarcastic. You seriously need’ta calm down, you’re not even a virgin and you’re acting like this.” A heavy hand of his reaches out, grinning in a way that makes his tooth poke out from behind his lip as he pats heavily against your shoulder, causing your winged frame to shake.

“No ‘m sorry, that was really harsh. Oh, you feelin’ it yet? ‘Cause I think i am..” At the same time he asks you both come to a sudden stop at the expansive clearing. The lights brighter, the music louder, a blazing fire maintained hot and tall to the left of you.

How did you not realize you were already here? How long ago did the effects of the two cans you knocked back start to kick in? Or, did it kick in?

“Y/N, Seob, you made iiit!” Shit.

Intak, the not-so-chalant ‘OJ’ tries to scoop you up in an awkward three-way hug, just barely do you manage to step back in time to not get lassoed in by his long orange sleeved arms. Obviously a few shots deep he doesn’t seem to notice that he’s only cradling one of you as he sways back and forth, babbling loudly—something along the lines of being glad he has other people to drink with all while leaning his entire weight from one foot to the other and nuzzling the the top of his forehead against Seob’s.

Keeho and Taeyang, a very well decided fit for ‘Emerald’ and ‘Antlers’ are a few paces back, red solo cups in hand, sharing an unfaltering run of giggles over what you assume is Intak’s tendency for being overly affectionate and Jongseob’s constant susceptibility to it. You break off from the two emotional idiots, finding company with the other two who are at least not swaying and going on drunken tangents about how much they love each-other.

Keeho announces loudly, “Y/N, sexy Jean Jacket! I like it.” While wrapping an arm around your shoulder, unhesitant about inviting you in as he’s always done, sticking you right between him and Taeyang who shuffles away a little with a genial smile, allowing you more wiggle room.

The three of you make short conversation, bonding over detailed stories of the two in front of you that were actively wrestling; trying to see who would hit the ground first by aimlessly swiping at ankles. They went at it for a while, Intak’s boyish laughter and Seob’s shrill cackle entertaining you until you started getting so cold that it became a struggle for the sound to come naturally. By the time they calmed down, dry mouthed and winded, you’d finished off the last of Taeyang’s drink that he offered somewhere between Seob doing this and Intak doing that. Unsurprisingly you were the first to offer grabbing sodas and a special refill in thanks for Taeyang’s generosity, it was an unsuspecting card that you pulled, but Jongseob knows you aren’t that considerate, you haven’t even seen Shota yet, a presumed highlight of your night, your personal paparazzi.

You don’t hear the slurred, sputtered out complaints as you quickly make your escape under the poorly strung Halloween themed lights that dangle from one low branch to another along the perimeter of the barren landscape, especially by how quickly the bonfire draws you in like a moth, your motionless body gone cold from standing for so long—you figure that’s where it makes the most sense to be, plus, better scoping ground.

The boys wouldn’t mind a few forgotten minutes as you settle on top of a tree stump. Surely they could wait for you to warm up before returning.

This isn’t a place you’d typically be comfortable by yourself, it only sinks in as you settle. Couples aggressively make out across from you with their tongues and cheeks contorted by the heat, an uncomfortably loud game of beer pong on an unlevelled table that happens just a few feet away, and the boring’s who are only lively when there’s pictures being taken, bright and fast.

Beyond the fires hot flickering light, there’s an old barn, big and dark—much too big to be overtaken by the fire, notably ominous looking from the distance it sits at, something about its unwelcoming nature intrigues you.

We are a creature of habit, even the unforgiving ones, aren’t we? You lean forward, letting your cold cheeks warm in its embrace, squinting, trying to make out any little detail you can from being this far out.

“Y/N?” A masculine voice calls. It should be disgraceful the way you know exactly who it is as soon as the first syllable of your name is pronounced, but you don’t have the spare time to linger on it.

He doesn’t wait to see your face before he proceeds to silently crouch down at your side, coolly granting himself the pleasure of your company without the need of clarity, it almost makes you question how he’s so comfortable and certain of himself for doing it, granted that of in itself is quite the rabbithole.

A colourful can occupies his hand as he bends in his red blazing-like suit, floral embellishments decorating the blazer, sporting a smile under his cowboy hat, white hot teeth the glint of your very demise. “i knew it was you.” He finishes suavely, body planting in your direction but his chin rests on his shoulder, only allowing you the right side of his cheek and jaw.

Spot on, you think. He couldn’t be more like Jupe even if he tried.

An arm is propped to the side of your thigh to keep his rocking weight stable. Eyeing what little he’s lent to your field of view, theres a lingering smile of your own, wondering if he’d also move it closer without a word.

“God. ‘Knew it was you’ don’t tell me you’re a stalker now, Jiung.” It’s endearing, really, your wit smoking off your tongue and he’s only spoken a few words, he loves how you don’t cower under his towering height because of its persistence. “Are you?” Seems your skin has thickened in his absence, too.

It’s sharp, the sensation of his teeth digging into the delicate internal flesh of his lips, pursing them tight as his defined adams apple bobs in his throat. He’s humoured by you. “Mmh not quite. I, can be though, if that’s the kind of thing you’re into now.” You don’t see the way his eyes flicker towards you under the bone white suede of his ridiculous hat, brows raised in a subtle sign of expectance on your end, then again, you can’t see it.

“Is it?”

Your head shakes, an airy almost bashful laugh filling in your wordless mouth, its a different timbre in comparison to the girls he’s encountered previous to your arrival who were fervently nodding as if he had just asked if they wanted a treat when he was dropping vague hints to the unraveling of their revealing costumes. Your wet lips glisten in the available light, smiling that pretty fucking smile he can trace in the cold wrinkles of his pillowcase. “Like.. roleplay? Never thought about it, pervert. What’ve you been getting up to since I’ve been away?” His laugh is fuller than yours as it abruptly escapes, but it’s a shared emotion nonetheless, even if you loathe the way he shares it with you so easily.

“Man, you wouldn’t even believe. Speaking of, do you…aghh, no- never mind.”

You twist, but his position only hardens. A sour ringing in your gut at the implications of his activities. “No, oh my god, no, you can’t do that? Do…i, do i what?”

Out of habit he start toying the silver ring that sits on his ring finger, a swipe of his pink tongue running against the corner of his mouth. It’s stupid, even he’s wondering where the overbearing amount of confidence came from that prompted him to even think of asking you such a thing. But he never learns. Does he? “Do you- i mean, are you into…that kind of stuff?”

A chill crawls up your back, dispersing over your skin, dancing on your spine. “Well, i mean- that’s an awfully personal question, considering we aren’t…” Jiung backs up a little bit, his arm shifting away from your thigh as if he didn’t expect for you to remember that you aren’t dating anymore. “—No yeah, it is isn’t it? You’re right I shouldn’t uh- you shouldn’t answer that, i mean, you don’t need to. Obviously.”

The drinks you’ve kocked back are really starting to build off of one another, so much that you don’t even try to hide the entertainment you consume at his expanse. A laugh makes him feel lighter. “Obviously…I was joking, you already know what makes me tick, right? Don’t get your incredibly red suit all dirty about it.” Panicked, Jiung lifts his arm, looking along his elbow to see a few smudges of tree pitch dragging along his sleeve. “Shit,” he murmurs, desperately attempting to rub it off with dry fingers. “was expensive too.”

The curved brim of his hat is full in your vision, a desperate shake to his frame as he fruitlessly tries to lessen the stain. “Spit on it.” You thoughtlessly suggest while crossing your leg over your other, attention fully diverted from his panic, because thats the pleasure you have of doing now.

Jiung stops suddenly, the top half of his face that’s still well hidden from the angle lowers further from your sight. Utterly clueless he eyes at what little skin you’ve exposed to him. Generally speaking the expanse of your soft looking legs isn’t a lot, but with a sex drive as high and responsive as his, Jiung already feels the switch of pressure in his lower region flip.

‘Spit on it’ he thinks, trying to subtly adjust his waist out of view. Do you know how insane you have to be to say that around him and not mean what he now so badly wants it to mean? His short nails drag over the sticky spots along his arm, redirecting his attention to the ground, for your own sake, for his. “I don’t think that’ll work.” He utters.

This is humiliating, he’s the one dressed as a cowboy yet here you are doing the wrangling, and you don’t even know how good of an arm you have.

His thighs tense under the tightening fabric, fighting the sudden urge to move in a way that’ll satisfy his stirring cock. He can’t fuck his ex-girlfriend, thats not something he does, that would be…deplorable, he’d be despised by your shared mix of friends, but fuck, he’s never wanted to see what those buttons on your shirt would reveal if he were to rip them free, would Seob, the more protective of them all even notice if he took you right in front of the orange light? Would he keep watching if Jiung made you messily fuck yourself on his cock? Your finger taps on the crown of his hat, “Your mouth dry?” You ask.

Jiung’s lips part, but then decidedly shut again as he nods. “Yeah, uhm, really dry, is there any water? ‘m not feeling good.”

Honestly, you should’ve known that the host of the party would’ve had it somewhere you’re not even supposed to be, and that all of the drinks were hidden in the barn so it wouldn’t look suspicious coming to the property with heavy coolers and kegs. The water was left behind thinking it wouldn’t be important enough, nor worth the struggle of trudging through sharp dead grass to retrieve it.

You set out towards the ominous building, a quieter volume than you assumed is shared in the passing stroll, the few words that you do exchange are fluid, amiable in short, and enough for you to successfully rock your weight into every divot in the hard-to-see ground. Your ankles have a much easier time when Jiung intently takes your arm around his, making you hold onto him with an assertive hand, you feel the way it effectively causes your dilapidated barrier to crumble under his touch, the frail support beams of your silence that you’ve been silently trying to uphold comes crashing down just as fast as he links into you.

He knows just as well as you that it’ll only lead to more of your mutually fruitless efforts to be squashed underfoot, but neither of you speak on it, instead you step a little harder and you hope a little less that your backup walls manage to persevere through his wrath. Unsure of if this is right, if you’re allowed to cling to him like this, any lick of your self restraint being wrapped up by a frail splitting string, intent on squeezing you in two halves. The small unfurling existence thats been covertly living somewhere inside of him starts to crack when your attention evolves into something vast, the same one that bloomed in the heat of his bed, seeking to be bathed in your pouring praises.

There’s always been something about you, something infuriating, something nauseatingly enticing about the way you patiently tend to his almost-aching cock with such a weightless attention compared to the borderline fret that others may have felt about getting him to reach his peak.

But tonight, he would leave different.

Even as you’re smoothing his pre-cum down the curve of his erection, his unopened bottle of freezing cold water discarded at his feet, your eyes find other things to admire.

Your head is in the clouds and he’s losing to what’s above.

Struggling with the knowledge that the space you occupy is unrestricted area, Jiung fights with the unimpeded sounds of soft fuss that burst from his mouth.

You don’t notice. Or, maybe you just don’t care. “It’s pretty tonight…clear, you notice?” The slightest amount of pressure is appended to your already taut fist as you wetly stroke him down to his base, pace notably far too lackadaisical for his taste, however he still finds some form of joy in this, almost exciting in a way, how you build back into the motion of things, running a finger over his tip ever few returns you make to the head. Despite his prior grievance you do manage to press slightly against his balls with the established speed of your milky glide, a guttural sound initiated by both the coursing zip of twitching pressure and the lack of increase in speed.

After having made a sticky mess of your palm it comes up to circle at his tip, grooving so sensitively against his continuously drooling slit that it admits an additional series of whimpers to escape, some he manages to catch before they drawl out, others he has to physically stop himself from letting free by digging his teeth into his red swollen lip. “Shit, been too fo-fuck! Focussed ‘n you.” Normally, he can pull out a minuscule reaction with that one, but it’s as if his piteous response drifts right past your ears. Continuing to drag long boring strokes absentmindedly you mutter back, “That’s sweet Ji’.” dismissive of his tactics, you look like you’re speaking more to the air and not to his face as you deftly slip the small silver hooks from the top of your corset. “‘s not!” He cries, emotion tightening in his face, trying to evoke some sense of empathy into you, any little sliver you have to offer.

Unsuccessful, you hum to yourself in a hairsbreadth of contemplation, “I don’t feel like putting you in my mouth tonight, y’know. ‘m sorry if that’s what you were waiting for.” It isn’t sincere, he knows you don’t mean it when you take your attention away from him to briefly peak your head out from behind the shed. “Aren’t listening to me…spent s’long, so much ‘f my- fuck, time. Hn’ you wont even pay attention t’me.”

Being on the furthest side from the lights makes for quite the struggle to scan the field, to see if anyone has managed to stray away from the group, you worry for your reclusiveness. Before you can get a good thorough look Jiung weakly rests an unsteady hand on your cheek, curling along the structure of your face as he silently pleas for a minute—just another minute added to his time spent with you, its all he needs.

Narrowed in confusion your eyes find him before the rest of your body cares to follow. “What?” You coax, bland of confusion, or even a genuine interest at all. Still he’s persistent as ever about his goal tonight. To get a word out of you at the very least was successful but nothing to feel exultant about, there’s still a large nagging part of you thats unvanquished, and there’s not a chance he’s backing out now when he’s so, so close.

He swallows, an expression on his face that would be poignant to anyone, except you. “Listen please. Just want you to make me forget where we are, or- shit, who i am to you- if i matter or not. I’ll take it.” He looks pained as your slowing motions come to a gradual halt, letting out a strenuous needy groan, but you can tell in some sick way that he’s savouring every bit of his torture, like he’s ready to spew the words ‘thank you’ any second now as you run your thumb against his sore slit.

His cock stands upright, so wet and heavy that it bobs a little even with the scant movement of his hips and no support of your hand. He’s so pretty, so much that you could chant it in a never ending string until your words blur together and no longer sound real, so pretty and so stupid. The pressure is ripped away, only returned so you drag the pad of your index finger up the side of him so painfully slow.

“You will, huh?” You ask,continuing to trace him. “Whatever i give you?”

Greedier than time, firm in his belief he confirms “Everything.” via burnt throat. “Give yourself to me, need you t’use me if thats what you need.”

“You’ll be quiet?” It’s a gentle ask, as soft as the breeze that makes him shiver just the same when he feels it.

A nod once slowly, twice, and then it becomes so fast. “Everything?” You ask again, bold—unsure of if that’s the kind of question he’ll willingly answer a second time, if it’s something he thought critically about the first, but the feeling of hearing him say it is so satisfying you can’t help wanting it a second time.

It’s funny, someone like you not expecting someone like him to drop everything for just a strum of your time. He has nothing, absolutely and completely nothing to lose. Jiung’s been looking for a pleasant sounding being all his life, and this whole time a symphony was right under his nose.

With not even a waver in his voice Jiung replies, steadfast on his decision for a second time: “Everything.” With equally as much conviction on his tongue.

Fingers work fast at your panties, tugging them down and off. Jiung watches, choked with words, his desire, feeling whiplashed by your pace and the contrast of lace. He’s overwhelmed, but fuck does he enjoy it. The underwear is as good as forgotten when he drags a large tantalizing hand along his stomach, a habit of his that’s known of, he likes the way his nerves tingle, how the feeling goes straight to his cock, it reminds him of the time you made him explain to you in thorough and jaw achingly explicit detail how he likes to fuck himself when you’re away, the way you squeezed your thighs tight when he mentioned the parts that weren’t inherently sexual, but were a habit of teasing. Is it bad to wonder if he stills does it the way he told you? Even though the underwear is an extremely flattering cut and colour, you couldn’t possibly care any less when his fingers reveal the set of butterflies underneath his crisp button down, finger tips dragging over the sensitive lines.

The light touch of your own fingers quickly guide his cock between your plush thighs, “Pretty, whadda’ they mean again?” he can feel the heat you put off before the both of your faces are screwing up at the sudden feel of each others differing temperatures. You don’t really care, he knows you don’t. “Being pretty isn’t enough?” Jiung can feel the brittle air dispel from his body as you reach a hand down to better separate your sticky folds over his dick in addition to a soft rocking motion. Immediately catching at your sopping hole when he shoves forward, you catch the way his chest squeezes in with a depriving inhale of air.

It feels like he’s just been punched in the gut, hands dropping to your waist to keep himself held back against the wood wall, a deep groan unfolds in his chest, shooting up his throat at the haze of pleasurable tingles. “Love that you don’t really care, know you don’t, fuckin’ love it.”

You’re ridiculously soft, and so fucking hot that it almost hurts from the effect of the frigid air, he can’t believe this is what you’ve been keeping from him, that he allowed it to happen. He should not be as gone as he is without even being inside of you yet, but god the thick warmth of your arousal coating over him is so heavenly as you start moving, finding refuge in you from the cold. “Can’t…can’t keep…” he struggles, unknowing of what it is exactly that he can’t do, but what ever it is you’re greatly overestimating him if you continue to keep grinding your slick pussy on him like this.

Mortifying, that’s what it is when his head is thrown back, unable to watch you inconspicuously rub yourself along his length, coupled with getting an ear full of your muffled sounds of pleasure. Taking the opening of his neck you lean in, tongue dragging against his skin before pressing light pecks to the wet area. You move so fervently that he can feel his tip poking out and brushing against your skirt on the other side—dragging along his dick, the stitching in the front soaks up your remaining fluids.

He’s able to catch quick glimpse of his drenched cock with a certain swift bump of his head directly against your clit, but even in his sputtering pleasure he refrains from watching all too closely, even when soft, more audible sighs start billowing out of your pretty mouth. “Y/N, baby plu-please…‘m not as strong willed- fuck, ‘s you think i am.” He tries his best to keep his lower half still, open for you to use—his twitching erection pressed snug under you, between, but the rest of his body unapologetically has a scorching drive of its own.

Not in the softness of his bed but he so badly wishes that he was. He can’t grip at the wrinkled sheets or fist at his pillows, the only surface keeping him held is the damp wall that you can hear the scratch of sewn sequence in the shape of a flying saucer grazing against.

Compared to the wreck of a man pressed in front of you, the pleasure you feel isn’t immense or head spinning-ly good, but, witnessing, feeling the way you have him acting makes up for its lacking amounts. “Ohh, Jiung, already know you aren’t.” The feigned empathetic lilt you speak in comes naturally, your eyes soften, a gloss to them that he’s familiar with being in his own even though his friends swear he has the metabolism of a pig.

He’s so incredibly drunk on you, absolutely wasted—fascinated beyond belief that it’s possible.

Everything feels like its slowed down, he vaguely notices the way your cheeks push your lower eyelids closer to your irises, a sharp devilish smile tensing your muscles as you simultaneously nudge his dick back with the very tip of your index finger, nestling him right under your weeping cunt, your walls tensing with the expectancy of a welcomed stretch.

You’re fucking drenched, fluctuating in excitement as you lift to the tips of your feet, then sink back with a long muted breath as he coasts inside with a huffed “Fuck…”

Nodding his head profusely, in semblance of chanting ‘good, good, good’ as he heels his body forward—out, cold hip bones pressing fluttering kisses against yours. He pauses from the sense of embarrassment augmented by your scrutiny as you sink him deeper, yet it’s still such an addicting feeling to be under, he needs more but can’t bring himself to fall under his orgasm so easily. He spasms, hesitates plenty, all the way until he’s completely bottomed out.

“Please, let me…” your body finds balance with manicured fingers pressed into his shoulders, an aching arch closer to his chest. “Let you what?” You wrangle out through a tight chest, your lips find his, speaking directly against him, into his mouth. “Don’t be coy, jus’ lemme’ fuck you already Y/N.” His head slopes slightly to the left, looking at your lips under his heavy eyelids—already waiting for a kiss that he can only hope you’ll be willing to spare.

He noses at your cheek in waiting, sharing with you his stuttering breaths as he presses a warm peck on the side of your mouth, refusing to kiss where he wants without his call of permission being uttered. “Be good, I will, make you feel- good.” The fasten of your arms around his neck is swift, a further proof of your allowance, “Really good?” You raise, urging his head straight and back.

He feels the hat lift from the back of his warm head, the change in air amplified by the sweat that clings to the roots of his hair. It pops off, but he’s buzzing in delight much too greatly to care. He slides the words out, “Really good.” with a mouth full and wet as you reach for the broad crown of white, fingers hugging as you lift it over to your head.

“Go on then.”

Almost instantaneously he’s grabbing your hips, planting a solid foot and expertly moving from his place to fit you between his chest and the barn. Hushing your small surprised gasp once he’s certain you’re stable, a chaste kiss against your brow bone as a damp palm wraps against your outer thigh, he moves it up, out, opening you so he can press further in as they drive forward, canted in his haste. “Wet—s’fucking wet my girl.” It’s a reflex to bury himself inside of you, as much- as far as you can handle and stilling once he can’t nudge himself any further. Every inch of his figure is effected by small shakes and straining twitches, choppy voice narrowly escaping as he palms at your neck, feeling, covering as much of your skin that his hands are capable of with a tight grasp of your thigh in his other hand, he needs you everywhere. Watches the process of your mouth falling slack, taking everything in, feeling the tender depth he reaches even at such a difficult angle, your fiery brain can’t even begin to comprehend how much more of you he’d be able to reach if you were in a different angle, one more accommodating, and promising of pliability.

“Focus, shut up ‘nd focus!-”

A small significantly heavier jump of his hips has your nerves shot to hell, but you hold yourself tight, even a sliver of composed is enough to be convincing. He works out of you in short, taking a fingers width worth of himself out, then giving you added an additional width of two in each return. The feeling is good, it’s filling after being starved for so long- a hunger strike if you will, but it doesn’t succeed in bringing you any closer to your orgasm. “Thought you said, you’d make me feel good.” You huff in a thin unconvincing voice, frustrated. His head descends to your shoulder, thinking that he’s welcomed when you let the slope of him in, that this is his claim, that there’s no more ground another person could cover that he’s not already been.

Nails sharp and hot scratch at his scalp in the motion of your joints closing around a clump of hair at the back of his head.

“disappointing.” Floats straight to his ear, its invasive, vibrating inside of his head like a frantic bee.

A startling moan rips from his hold, the kind where you know it was large and full of bass to start with but not strong enough to uphold up its weight, like helium spewing from the volatile confines of latex. Whining frantically, his eyes snap shut as he digs his face further into you, damp flesh pressing into damp flesh, the wet sticky sound of his cock repeatedly plunging into you from the rutting at such a loose impatient pace. The sight is indescribable, the rocking of two bodies, moving as one, feeling as one, yet the brains that keep you moving are so incredibly different from each-other, disconnected in emotion by light years, steps, miles, planes apart, but physically the closest you’d ever come to be.

His jaw is wrung slack, drool pooling out with his tongue lax over the edge of his bottom teeth. Globs of the tepid liquid drip as his thrusts flatten out into timed punches, it leaks down your clavicle, sticking to the curvature of your collarbones. His meek sounds jointly purged by your body as he slips the opening of the corset further apart, impetuously tugging further so he can get a proper hand on the soft skin.

Small unintelligible sounds are made in the back of his throat as he presses the centre of his palm to your breast, squishing the tense of your nipple into it. “Ji’,” he hears, restlessness distinct in your voice, coaxing, hoping for something more. Heedlessly Jiung’s arm, fingers that you’re so desperate to feel under your skirt, disappear from your sight, feeling as he brigs it to the side of your ass, resulting in an even greater awkward position for him to be in with his height, but he can ignore the strain he feels in certain pints of his neck and back for the way you start pressing into his hand, a struggled whine leaving your mouth with the offer of your chest to his touch. “Oh, you like that.” A squeeze to the supple round of your ass evokes a heaved sigh as he presses a cold wet kiss to the base of your neck.

The meek stimulation to your nipples isn’t as effective as your clit being played with, a vitalization, but not a slake to your insatiable thirst. A dry swallow, the pleasure all fizzles and intertwines the same even in its marginal amounts, you can’t bleat about it, the intentional squeezing around him becomes close to incessant because of it, begging that he continues with the teasing pinches as his hips oscillate with a steady reoccurring flow into yours.

From the sole feel of your body confidence daringly creeps up over his shoulder, pink tongue drawing the essence of it back in.

A silent indecipherable moment shared as he looks to you before leaning in, eyes flitting as he laves against the neglected bud, further covering you in him as the muscle retreats, curls back, cradling the secretion of saliva into the bend of his tongue before his lips pucker, letting gravity take over as it dribbles it out across your tit.

Brushing back his tussled hair, wanting a look of the glassy liquid as it departs from the warmth of his mouth, your body moves without the need for communication, fruitlessly drying to grind against his pelvis, but he’s got so much more ground. Your hand moves rashly against his mouth, index finger accepted gracefully by his tongue, an unhesitant thing—dancing against the digit.

Jiung—already so dazed, retracts back outside of you, leaving a few inches of himself in for a fleeting moment. The empty space he leaves behind aches for his return, but the sight of him readily taking a second finger to join your other mitigates any measly discomfort.

“Tell you i like it, ‘s that mean you wont touch on my clit for me?”

His lips tighten, tongue licking up against the appendages, trying to shake his head, lidded glossy eyes stare intently at your face.

“You know I’ll touch you all you want, just tell me.”

“Shut the fuck up, keep moving.” A tempting beckon for him to return back to the heat between your legs is made, small barely noticeable spots of dark over the thigh of his red slacks, how could he resist knowing of the mess you’ve made? He reaches down, skirt bunching around his wrist as his middle finger straightens out from its curve, running directly against the spot that has your entire body tensing.

A continuous slide is maintained as his thrusts quicken, full, unceasing.

The deep all consuming indication of his approaching orgasm falls into the unwonted rhythm of yours, frantic muttering and endearing whines that you try and fail to retain behind those pretty lips of yours.

It’s predictable, he thinks, the reckless abandon of your body trying to meet the movement of his own, craving for the throttling nudge of his cock to hit that special place you’ve been dreaming of.

Shallow breaths shared in a silent race. Jiung can feel your arousal starting to cover more of his finger, the dwindle in volume of your noises and the succumbing weakness in your legs. “Hol’ on pretty, mmnh—‘m gettin’ there,” he pants, your hip is far past the point of discomfort but the pain only punches your orgasm closer. “wait f’me, you can wait, huh? Know you fuckin’ can.”

God, you know you sound pathetic when a headlong “mhm!” Is tumbling from your restraint, and he adores the feeling of your body curling in on him, whether it’s subconscious or not, how you grip him so tightly, and beg for him to keep fucking you through your orgasm because once you’re stampeding through the crest of it qyou can’t keep a sensible control of how you sound or the way you move.

The obscuring blanket of fog on the windows collect into small droplets, he’s closer to believing that with each prolonged close of his eyelids that the small action spurs them to spill, allowing what’s left of the outside world a glimpse in through the thin clear streaks.

Hands abandon the secure hold on his flimsy shirt that drapes haphazardly off your backside, once spotless, now defaced by nature and your recklessness.

A lingering smell of sex hangs over your heads in the confined space, it should be repugnant, concerning the way he inhales the balmy scent so greedily, but on his own accord he justifies it in the sense that no matter how much he resents its existence, everything about you is so addicting-ly cruel—sweet with an overthrow of bitter that he yearns to internalize. You’ve always tasted, smelled all the same in compelling amounts.

Jiung can’t bring himself to be worried about his primarily bare frame being seen when his dick sheaths up into you so easily in frail minor strokes. The repetitive movement of his body leads his natural musk to emanate a heavier trace behind on your skin, the softer notes of his amber cologne crushed along the obsessive pull and hold at your back, frantically trying to keep your jelly limbs solid against him.

Stained shirt is gripped tighter in his fist, softening a whine by plunging it into an exhale as he hoists your body further up his thighs. The sheer amount of unpredictability of the situation arouses a flurry of tingles to surge from the bottom of his stomach, resistance starting to dwindle as you steadily crawl out of your hot slumber, thinking of the varying ways Jongseob would react if he conveniently showed up.

Jiung likes that someone could easily peak in and catch the both of any minute now with the recent influx of spilling people that exit from the property.

The paced rut of his cock drives him closer into overstimulation, having forced himself to still the past 2 times the unwelcome pressure of his peak pulled him to the top, you asked of him to wait, the request still vivid in his head, ‘until I wake’.

He’s doing himself absolutely no good, the steer of your weighty hips in his hold revitalize the entirety of the moment you asked him so sweetly to take care of you when your stamina was proved to be inadequate for the stretch of time he’s capable of keeping you busy in the back of the cold vehicle—knocked out with the remnants of your request still drowsily hanging onto your lips not too long after you snagged the keys from Seob’s pocket, your top clasped one hook off from the other.

The sudden flatten of your knees holding out on the seat gives him a better advantage, as well as a little bit of a scare. His clammy palms migrate to your ass, feeling on you as you press up for him, keeping yourself still so he can properly fuck into you from below. “J’…” you hum, voice barren and small, the middle buckle under your leg digging against your bone.

A hand massages at you, drawing light against the expanse of your soft skin. “I know honey, hn’know—shit..”

2:13 was read the last time he checked his phone, the feeble sound of yelling from the party starting to lose it’s vibrancy, to it now being 3:00 am with little to no noise, and his phone battery on the cusp of giving out and plunging the screen into indefinite darkness—something he’d normally be worried about, furthermore, try his best to avoid, but the way your breathing gradually softens on top of his chest as your body wakes to full responsiveness, telling by the squeezes around his length that its just what you asked for, it makes the significance of his trivial concerns so unusually minuscule.

His eyes clamp shut, swallowing down his discomfort from the lack of space he was meant to endure. “S’good, you’ve always felt s’fucking good, sweet girl.” He shifts again, caressing the back of your head, anchoring you through his stammering thrusts.

“Thirsty.” You groggily complain, slithering a slow hand between your bodies, pussy twitching from the praise, aching to be touched. Jiung was fearful of the sore throat that he knows you wordlessly suffer from now, it always does after you drink, your hoarse squeaks evidential as you trace messy circles over your puffy clit. Body far more awake than you feel.

He didn’t think to take any water before the two of you managed to slip by the boys, and there’s sure as hell not any sitting in here. “Poor baby.” Inwardly he takes the flitting time to mull it over, but realistically there’s not many options to begin with. Well, except for one.

He doesn’t hesitate when guiding your head back down to level with him, his flicking his chin up as an indication for a kiss, to which you cluelessly comply. He’s a little stunned that you meet him halfway, the mobility of his lower body unceasing, but that doesn’t hinder the process of his tongue invading your mouth seconds after he’s finally able to properly press his rigid lips against your soft pliable ones.

Expertly he shoves a wad of his spit onto your tongue, another peck left at the corner of your mouth as it disperses over the muscle before he curtly tips back. “Swallow.” He husks, sealing you off, parting from his offering.

He leans back onto his forearms, folded up blazer pushed beneath his shoulders, leaving you leaned over, wet lips holding the additional liquid inside. You let it slide to the back of your throat, gathering, he waits to see the movement in your neck so he knows that you’ve swallowed it.

When you do, the peak of his 2nd orgasm starts breaching his senses almost simultaneously.

The body of the van rocks in his urgency, sweat beading out from his hairline as it squeaks, empty cans at the foot of the front seats rattling. “Good, baby?” His face pinches, struggling to punch the words out. “Good Ji’, so fuckin’ good.”

The feeling of his quickly approaching orgasm is unworldly, yet the nagging palpability of your current circumstances looms equally significant in vitality. “Jongseobie…‘s gonna be so—so mad at us.” He worries aloud, glancing down at the dark outline of your hips that starts straying from the tempo he set, the wet sloshing sound of your cunt recklessly sucking him down intense to his ears. Your sporadic grinding against him is relieving to see. You’re close, within the same nearing distance that he is, aching for the final puncture at your thinning endurance that’ll snap you slack. “Making a mess, all over me ‘n the seats.”

What a time to finally have some consideration for your friend.

Instantly he feels the leverage you use to pitch your upper body upright, holding the top of the headrest as you meet his thighs with short bounces. You can only dream of reaching over to muffle his irrelevant noise with a hand, trying to focus on the creeping sensation that starts strumming at your nerves, one that makes your legs feel fuzzy, and causes sweat to drip down your back, it’s far more pleasant of a feeling when his mouth is shut.

Piqued by the sound of his voice, you huff back an unconvincing “We’ll deal with it-” as your head lulls back, allowing yourself to fall into the dark of your eyelids, letting you forget about what’s on the other side of the van, and exactly how you got here in the first place the faster you rub at your clit. “Jiung,” you whine, spasming and restless.

“Yeah baby” he struggles out.

You shift, hold straining around the headrest, around his cock in the same, slippery finger ruthlessly sliding on your clit.

“Need- shit Jiung, need you to shut the fuck up already, make me come.”

Fuck, it’s ridiculous the way you ask him of any little thing and he’s jumping to get it done. Jiung doesn’t take your demand lightly, a thoughtless account as his foot presses onto the carpet floor, the piston of his hips deepening out with the aid, pressing his length into you as far as he can reach, the unforgivingly lewd mix of your fluids ringing at the plinth of his cock—sticky against what’s managed to leak to the underside of your legs, you feel its thick consistency spread further from the shared pace that has you unraveling overtop of him in the matter of minutes, sinking from the muffled sound of his voice.

“Love—love you, baby, please, please say it back.” He blubbers pathetically, convinced by no one either than himself that you’re just as deep into this as he is, that’s this is just as emotionally charged.

“Come back, come back t’me…missed this pussy s’fucking much- god, fucking miss you.”

He can’t comprehend the second his own climax hits, it’s a blur of flesh and liquid, the stiffening of your body, the aggressive shaking from your waist down.

Your spent body melts down on top of his, a shared exhaustion sinking into your bones.

Fingers rub softly against the small of your back, unwilling to move even if the cramped position makes him ache and numb in certain points of his limbs. You hardly move, and for a fleeting moment he’s able to take it all in, the stillness, the quiet, the ambience that resembles the warmth of your relationship, clumsily fucking in places you shouldn’t, disappearing on weekends and not a singular trace left behind of where you went.

This is us, he thinks, painfully convincing himself into believing it utterly and completely, that this is leeway back into your old affairs. But the truth, it couldn’t be more clear, you’ve known it long before the door slides shut.

Tugging at your skirt, you smooth yourself out as you step away without a spared glance back, keys pressed into your palm, wrapped by your fingers. You’re content, satiated even previously being in the face of your unremitting constraint, you got what you came for, throughout the time it took you to get it, maybe you didn’t succeed in becoming the spectacle you thought yourself to be among everyone else, but with the spoken covet of your presence in his life again, you sure as hell felt like it.

Hefty footsteps thump closer to you at a concerning pace that slows you down. Flashlights swing along the ground, with the lack of it you can’t tell exactly who is running down the path—concerned by the urgency in their pace until the figure comes to a sudden out of breath stop.

Jongseob bends over, his sandpaper tongue striking the roof of his mouth.

“Cops were called, we gotta go.”

[perfectprettypisces]

Polar Opposites • B.R.B • Sneak Peek

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x OC

Synopsis: Coming up on his mid-thirties, Rooster feels like he should be married by now. But with every woman he dates, the simplest thing can turn him away. So when Phoenix’s picture-perfect cousin comes crashing back into her life as a runaway bride, he thinks it must be fate. 

Warnings: lowkey sleazy behavior

a/n: new series? idk i may or may not make this a series or just do a couple of parts but Phoenix is my fave character so i had to make something with her involved :) also, yes, this first scene is almost identical to the first scene of Friends haha (also before anyone asks, this will not be a love triangle between Phoenix, Rooster, and the OC)

It’d been a long day at the beach with multiple games of dogfight football and Penny had been gracious enough to open the doors to The Hard Deck a couple of hours early for Maverick and his squadron to wind down. 

Coyote and Fritz were aimlessly throwing darts at the dartboard while Payback and Hangman played against Bob and Fanboy in a casual game of pool. Rooster sat on top of the bar, locked in a conversation with Halo and Phoenix with Penny occasionally adding her two cents in. Yale, Harvard and Omaha were long gone, opting to head back to the their places to shower and take a well-deserved nap on their day off.

Rooster’s beginning to envy them the further he gets into his conversation with Phoenix and Halo.

“That is the stupidest reason to ghost someone,” Phoenix scoffs, rolling her eyes when Rooster looks at her incredulously.

Phoenix had asked him about the woman he’d been seeing the past couple of weeks, forcing him to begrudgingly admit that he’d ghosted her just a few of days prior. He wasn’t proud of it, but in his defense, he had a good reason.

Or so he thought.

“I think it’s perfectly reasonable, thank you very much,” Rooster defends.

“Ghosting a girl just because she thought Air Force pilots and Navy pilots were the same thing is not reasonable,” Halo chides.

“Yes, it is,” the rest of the guys chorus from their respective spots.

Rooster tips his bottle to all of them in thanks.

“Bradshaw, this is, like, the third girl in the past two months,” she says and Rooster can tell she’s trying her hardest to hold back a judgy tone. “For a man who wants to get married so badly, you sure are picky.”

“Nothin’ wrong with bein’ a little picky, Phoenix,” he says, coming up from behind Phoenix and tossing his arm around her shoulder. He points his beer bottle at Rooster. “‘Specially when you got options like ol’ Rooster here.”

Rooster has to resist the urge to cringe at Hangman’s choice of words. Sure, he was trying to defend him in his own slightly twisted way, but it still didn’t make him feel any less…sleazy.

“You’re a sleaze,” Phoenix responds, nudging his arm off her shoulder.

“Need me to ring it?” Penny asks, gesturing to the bell while eying Hangman threateningly.

Phoenix smiles gratefully but shakes her head, turning back to Rooster. “All I’m trying to say is you’re never gonna find ‘the one’ if you keep dropping girls the second they do or say something weird,” she says. “What about Kristen? She’s cute and you even said you could see it going somewhere.”

He had said that. In retrospect, Kristen was a good choice for him. She was a nurse on a base, so she was incredibly understanding of his demanding and somewhat unpredictable job. She never pressed him when he would shut down at the mention of his parents and as douchebag-y as it sounded, it didn’t hurt that she was good in bed.

They had been on a handful of dates a few months prior and things were going well. He didn’t exactly have a good reason why he never asked her out again after that

Rooster just shrugs. “I don’t know, Nat,” he says truthfully.

“Y’know, Phoenix, if you’re such an expert on relationships maybe you should find Rooster a wife,” Hangman teases.

Before Rooster or Phoenix is able to come up with a retort, Maverick’s voice cuts them off.

“Uh, Phoenix? There’s a woman here looking for you.”

The confusion in Maverick’s tone has Rooster and everyone else’s interest peaked as they all turn to the entrance of The Hard Deck. Maverick beckons the stranger further into the bar and into everyone’s line of sight. Rooster can practically hear everyone’s jaw drop, his included.

This was probably the most stunning woman Rooster’s ever laid his eyes on and based off the expressions of everyone behind him, the sentiment was shared. Her hair was done up in a complicated looking updo, the stray pieces coming free that would’ve looked messy on anyone else only helped frame her sharp features. Rooster could only assume she had makeup on from the way the color on her eyelids made her eyes pop, though he’d never be able to tell without it due to how flawless her skin looked. The only flaws Rooster could make out were the slight mascara tracks beneath her waterline and the small pout that adorned her perfectly glossed lips.

The real kicker was her attire. She would’ve already stood out with her hair and makeup, but the wedding dress sealed the deal for sure. The silky white dress fit her like a dream and looked way outside of any of their price ranges, which made the dirt that laced the bottom of the gown seem infinitely more comical. The white heels she held in her left hand looked equally as expensive as the dress, but not nearly as expensive as the diamond that adorned her ring finger.

Everyone turned to look at Phoenix in shock, like she’s magically poofed this woman out of thin air at Hangman’s request.

“Damn, you work fast,” Halo mumbles.

[rookrecurring]

I don’t know where you’re at with this question or how often you’ve been asked it, but how are you doing these days? What have you been up to? I did a triple take when you started posting again and it’s good to see your art again! I hope you’ve been well.

—longtime RMR fan

Hi! This is such a kind message, I appreciate you checking in. I feel like I've been offline for so long that I'm always surprised to hear anyone remembers me or Red Moon Rising at all, haha. I've received a few emails here and there from former readers over the years which I've replied to, but I think it's probably time to say something more public in case anyone else has similar questions.

I tried and completely failed to keep this concise - sorry for rambling all over your relatively simple ask, but the long and short of it is: I'm doing pretty ok! Life is confusing and difficult! More under the cut!

In all honesty, I burned out very badly while working on Red Moon Rising. The tipping point unfortunately coincided with the Kickstarter for the print version (way back in 2017), but in retrospect it was a long time coming.

Shocking no-one, webcomics basically pay nothing and I was treating it as a job on top of the commission and freelance work I was paying the bills with, and in the end it just kind of crushed me. I became very overwhelmed with the work required to get the comic ready for print in the time that followed, so I never quite gave myself space to recover from the burnout because I felt such an obligation to fulfill the Kickstarter - people had paid good money for this and I wanted them to receive the books they had been promised.

The good news these days is that the Kickstarter is more or less all the way there. My publisher has been an absolute saint this entire time, checking in with me about the work without ever being demanding or pushy, and a few months ago a box arrived at my flat with all three volumes (consisting of the first 300-ish pages) of Red Moon Rising in print.

It's hard to be ecstatic after such a tiring journey to put it all together, but I'm proud of what we made. I can't overstate what a great job I think my publisher has done and how kind they've been to me - they received a lot of flak from people about the massive delays and never once threw me under the bus or pressured me to work harder or faster.

Regarding RMR's future: the website is currently down, but it shouldn't be for long. I've had some help from a friend recently (a recurring trend that I'm very grateful for) and the site should be back online soon more or less as it was. Pages, commentary, comments, everything.

However, the comic will remain on semi-permanent hiatus - never say never, but for the moment I've moved on.

I'm sure this isn't a surprise considering the last page was posted six years ago, but I hope it's not too disappointing for anyone. I always thought I would come back to it sooner or later, but I still feel like I need some space.

-

On an even more personal note, it's been a crazy few years. I think everyone has had a difficult time recently what with the… well, everything. I've been through a lot of health problems, some very difficult housing and financial situations, and I also came out as gay and asexual to my friends and family, and now to anyone who happens to be reading this.

Fortunately I have no horror stories regarding this last point, everyone around me has been beyond supportive and kind. I think the main takeaway I have from this period of my life is how amazing my friends are. I could probably fill this post to the character limit talking about the lovely people in my life and the numerous kind things they've done for me. I'm in a very good place right now thanks to them.

So in a post-Kickstarter, post-RMR world I'm at a bit of crossroads these days. I feel like my burnout has finally more or less faded and I've quietly been up to all sorts of small things.

I spent a lot of this year learning Japanese to an intermediate level (mostly through watching hundreds of episodes of Super Sentai shows in pure Japanese), something that didn't occur to me I would ever be capable of until I started doing it

I've been composing more orchestral music and sending it to like two people

I did a game jam!

I picked up Python programming recently and am trying to create a program to act as a music composition aid

I speedran learning Blender last year for a job application and made exactly one (1) piece using it that went so well I'll probably never draw a building by hand ever again

I've been playing a lot of DnD and other tabletop RPGs and made quite a bit of art related to those that I never posted anywhere

My biggest freelance project of the year was doing all the art for a friend's board game project that I'm cautiously excited about - it should be seeing the light of day some time next year

Basically I'm approaching some sort of critical mass of "uhhh maybe someone on the internet might like to see what I'm up to if I actually posted it" and now I'm confronting the scary emotions of once again being visible online. Yet another friend has offered to help me set up some kind of art stream in the near future and I think I might actually work up the nerve to do it.

-

Compared to 2017 the internet now is obviously a very different place and it's quite intimidating to step back into it if I'm being honest. It feels like there's much more pressure on Cultivating A Brand™ and I can already tell I'm going to be completely terrible at it because that pressure to be a consistent Content Creator™™™ totally smashed my brain in before and I'm not interested in going there again.

On the other hand, I appreciate that someone who is interested in seeing my handful of bird drawings one month might not also be interested in seeing my Tokusou Sentai Dekaranger fanart the next. I don't really know what to do about that except post these things anyway, because otherwise they're just piling up on my hard drive.

So that's it, really! My life is a lot more stable these days and I'm tentatively planning on posting more stuff here and possibly other places too. Thanks again for the ask, and sorry for the impromptu novel!

[youngpettyqueen]

✨🌈🎉 for the fic writer game, please!

✨ “What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)”

Probably leave your roles at the door. I have a lot of love for that fic and compared to some other stuff I’ve written it didn’t get much attention. I get why it didn’t- genfic in general doesn’t do as well as shipfic, and there isn’t really a lot of demand for Margaret and Radar content, but it’s one of my fav things I’ve ever written and I wish it got more attention to reflect that

🌈 “is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?”

what remains, which might be surprising cause it’s so short! I really struggled with both the beginning and the ending. I’d been trying to write that one for months, but couldn’t figure out how to get it going. Once I did, I couldn’t figure out how to end it

Originally it was longer. There was a lot more insight into Hawkeye and Radar’s relationship from BJ’s POV, and him thinking on how few people Hawkeye had left from the beginning. It felt very long-winded and tacked on just for angst’s sake, so I ultimately cut a good 500 - 1k out of the fic and ended it at short and sweet. I think the fic is a lot better for it, and works better as a short, insightful scene rather than a longer story proper

🎉 “how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)”

I celebrate every single one haha, I’m not shy about giving myself credit and validation. I write all of my fics for me first and everyone else second. I’m very much a “I wrote this for me but you can read it too” type of fic author. It’s why I don’t feel bad if my fics don’t get a lot of attention. I wish some got more, but ultimately I didn’t write them for other people. I wrote them for me, and posted them for fun, and I let the attention boost my ego a bit

At the end of the day, I know I’m a good writer. I’m a published author and I write a lot of original content, including the novel I’m working on. Fic is practice for me to make sure I don’t get caught in ruts and to practice my character writing. It’s all in good fun for me, so every post is a fun little celebration of inflicting my brain rot on everyone else haha

[nicealma]

Head canon that not only 2 years after Henry and Alex were outed and Catherine in finally Queen and stuff, she gets diagnosed with breast cancer.

And the whole royal family is devastated. Henry is getting more and more depressed, Bea is locking herself in her room more and more often and Philip is getting more and more distant.

Catherine is trying to hold her head up, but everyone can clearly see she is struggling.

Henry, one night, impulsively drags Alex with him to the closet grocery store and buys a box of hair dye and the next morning the world watches the prince of Wales walking out of the Buckingham Palace with pink hair.

EVERYONE is freaking out. EVERYONE wants to know why the next day, princess Beatrice ALSO colors her hair pink. And the next day, wait a fucking minute: the oldest prince Philip TOO?????

NO ONE understands.

The former queen Mary is NOT looking happy at all with this, while the new Queen looks like she can’t stop smiling alongside with the First son Alex and princess Martha.

The hair dye washed out eventually and Queen Catherine beats the cancer and lives on a very happy life with her once, very closed off family, now a very close one.

But the next year, almost to the date, the royal siblings color their hair again?? Wtf is going on???

This continues for years, and when Alex, not longer the first son of the United States, is asked in an interview about it, he smiles and says:

“I’m I about to spill the truth about this tradition the royal family has had for years now? I sure as hell am!”

And he tells them that the reason the royal siblings started coloring their hair pink, once a month, every year, was because of The Queen Catherine. They wanted to support their mother during her illness and what better way to do in them coloring their hair pink during breast cancer month? And continue doing it over the years to remind her that they’re very proud of her.

“If I supported the decision? Hell yeah! I had just gotten to Buckingham Palace the night before, and when I woke up, Henry dragged me to the store, grabbed the hair dye and said : ‘please don’t tell mom’. Like come on! And I was like ‘Henry, baby, you’re almost 30. You don’t have to ask your mom for permission to color your hair!’ And I helped him, of course. You know, as a prince, he didn’t get the experiment with different hair colors or cutting his hair at home or getting random tattoos in someone’s kitchen. So we colored his hair and the next day, Bea ruched into Henry’s room with her on hair dye and demanded us to help her too. And after a few hours of begging and fighting with Philip, a lot of thanks to Martha, he agreed to do that as well. And you know, the rest of the world was freaked out, but I will never forget the moment I saw Catherine’s face when all of her kids sat down and showed her and told her the reason why they had done it. I still get tears in my eyes when I think about it. And who doesn’t like a Prince with pink hair? I know I don’t complain, haha!”

[inonibird]

Sahuldeem/Kaleesh Q&A #9

Oh boy! Here we go! (questions bold; answers italic) — Do Kaleesh pups drink milk from their mothers or are there differences between humans and Kaleesh? Heh, so I HAD thought of this some time ago in my brainstorming of Kaleesh biology, but decided not to write about it in the story itself. I headcanon Kaleesh as mammal-like reptiles, and when it came to the matter of nursing I looked to modern day monotremes for inspiration and reference. Monotremes do lactate from mammary glands, but don’t have nipples—they just sorta secrete milk onto patches on their fur/skin and the babies lap it up. So, uh. To answer your question, yes and yes.

Does Dalibor know anything about Ronderu´s backstory? How much time did she spend with the pirates anyway? Dalibor never learned as much about Ronderu as Qymaen did, but that’s not to say he knew nothing. And I always imagined she spent a few years pirating. It’s questions like these that cement my desire to someday write a Ronderu-focused fic in the Sahuldeem setting, starting back at Mir-Haz and leading up to the day she met Qymaen. Someday... :’)

Sometimes I remember the name of Grievous’ starfighter and cry Good! Let the tears flow through you!

Will you ever do a tutorial on how you draw Kaleesh? If there’s a significant demand for it, I suppose I could?

i finally got around to reading theough salhudeem, after it being on my to-read list for months haha. oh my gosh i love it so much, its so great to see kaleesh culture actually developed! small question, are we going to get to see grievous and gor interact? i was always sad we never got more elaboration on how grievous saw and treated his pet, i mean, he seemed pretty devastated when gor died... anyway, keep up the amazing work :D!!!! Thank you so much for reading!! All right, now is as good a time as any to make a confession (and maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but ah well): I’ve always thought the idea of Grievous having a pet was pretty hecking silly. In my original script (back when I was plotting Sahuldeem out as a comic), Gor only showed up in one panel during a Clone Wars montage, more as acknowledgement than anything expository. The plan has been to expand a little bit on “so where’d that thing come from and why does he care” in prose, but don’t expect a whole chapter dedicated to the cyborg general bonding with his pet Roggwart on Vassek 3.

I'd be surprised if noone asked you this before, did you intentionally come up with the term Sahuldeem to parallel Saladin? See, I always identified a lot with Grievous as being very Middle East, which comes from both the writers appropriating (as they do a lot) but also from his incredibly deep and poignant story resonating with the colonization the west has done to the middle east for centuries, the cultural anger we have. So I think its dope to give a nod to Saladin, even if its unintentional Thank you for this perspective! The specific parallel of the term was unintentional, I must admit. (I explain a bit about where the name Sahuldeem comes from here.)

Are you able to tell us anymore about Qy's wives? Hm, I can give you names + order of marriage: Zena kal Nitzelka Vykalla san Nisina Kirizal nun Shandana Ninurisa bal Zimah Siduri qam Ushbar Ashme nab Surhlavi Mahulena tir Kizurra Tila sul Khamaji Peshanu saj Anugi Ilona dae Zubaru (something I wrote in my original script when he interacts with one of his wives: “We won’t meet them all or learn their names. They exist on the periphery of what remains of Sahuldeem’s heart at this time...and when perhaps he finds himself caring again, it will be too late to matter.”)

How common is the letter Q in the Kaleesh language? Honestly? It’s rarity is in perfect correlation with how often I forget to use it, lol. Sumerian doesn’t have a ‘q’, and I don’t often remember to swap out a ‘k’ instead. It’s easy enough to handwave it as “oh ‘q’ IS a very rare letter in Kaleesh”. Qy’s just lucky!

Hello. I would just like to say that your work has inspired me so much that I am writing my own fanfiction. It would be a slight rewrite of the clone wars, but Grievous is more like his 2003 interpretation than his 2008 one. I have come to ask if I could borrow some things, like names of characters or places. Once it get the first act done I could send it to you to beta read, if you want. Hell yeah, that’s awesome! I appreciate you checking with me. When it comes to someone using any of my Sahuldeem-specific creations in a fanfic (vs. the official Canon/Legends material that’s already out there), I would prefer if you credit me and/or provide a link to the series on AO3. I’m afraid I can’t commit to beta reading any works—I can barely keep up with my own project(s)!—but am fine with folks linking me to anything they do post if it took inspiration from Sahuldeem. :)

Mentally shrieking because once the banking clan becomes involved, the end is nigh. There may be more yet to come than you expect, but you are correct: this is the beginning of the end.

In the next part of Sahuldeem, will Grievous ever get to appear before the Galatic Senate? (At least before the Clone Wars?)

;D you might know this already but i feel like telling you that fun fact grievous kills t'chooka d'oon in the 2005 grievous comic (yknow, the one where he captures a bunch of younglings and plans to build them cybernetic bodies, complete with masks like his that he designed himself). do you think he remembered You’d be hard pressed to find something about Grievous that I don’t know! I’m familiar with the comic; had to look it up to figure out what T’chooka D’oon looks like, after all. And yes—I do think he remembered, in spite of everything that happened in the intervening years.

[bonny-kookoo]

Catch it (JJK x Reader)💜☁️👽

💚 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

💚 Genre: Alien!AU, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut

💚 Warnings: Mentions of war, Reader is homeless, Jungkook is kind of clumsy, he hurts her accidentally sometimes, it’s never intentional though, slavery (in a sense), sweet boy Jungkook, no smut yet sorry haha PLEASE DON'T LEAVE I PROMISE ITS GOOD

💚 Summary: The world is literally ending. In a last effort to save earth, the race of Alcor demands humanities planet to be given into their care, as humans have been slowly killing the planet for way too long. But it’s humanity we’re talking about; they never give up without a fight. Even if they should.

Part of the Alien!Jungkook series!

Catch it | Hold it | Keep it | Save it | ???

  The world had officially gone to shit.

Now, that was hard to overlook at this point; with almost every street in utter ruins, every corner looking like the worst slums at this point. Humanity had lost the war they had started; and the Alcorian people had by now begun to get rid of everything, building up things from scratch, and planting new trees and other plants.

They were healing the planet, as they called it.

You'd always despised the ways your own race handled things in the past, but this time you'd genuinely thought they would do the right thing. When you'd seen it on TV, the Alcorian government speech, you'd been surprised. You didn't really know what to think of aliens if you'd ever been asked in the past, Alcorian people already known to be existent by the time you'd been in school still. Now, years after finishing and living a life of a sole survivor on the streets, you'd never truly took time to think about what kind of appearance they may had. But now you knew- and it was nothing like you would've ever thought.

From what you've seen and heard they were tall- and had much more physical strength than a regular human. Their eyes had cat-like pupils designed for their naturally long nights on their homeplanet, giving them a distinctive look. The most common color seen had been green or a very dark brown- light brown, beige, or blue eyes were a rarity. The carried themselves with a certain kind of confidence that wasn't overbearing or too pushy. They simply knew they had the upper hand.

Humanity had been simply stupid.

Or narcisstic, as you liked to call it. The government had just been too scared to have power taken away like a toddler who'd throw a fit if it was time to let someone else play with a toy. But this wasn't kindergarden, and no one was playing around.

"Do you need help?" He'd asked, and you kept your hood down low, careful not to show your face and reveal anything to the Alcorian standing close to you. He had a nice voice, you'd noticed, but the fear still crept into your bones from the very real possibility of him taken you away, just like everyone else at this point. The war had been over for a little over a month by now, and Humans were not seen that much anymore. Everyone kept themselves hidden, stories about humans getting snatched and sometimes even eaten keeping you up at night like a child afraid of the dark. "Hey- are you okay?" He asked again. Considering your very small height in comparison to him, he probably mistook you for an alcorian child, and wanted to take you somewhere safe. They were known to be protective of their family after all.

At his touch, you slowly backed away, as he grew more and more suspicious of you. His hand reached for your hood, and that was the exact moment you decided to absolutely book it, and run off.

Sadly, he wasn't at all dumbfounded by that, and you should've listened to that weird drunk guy some weeks ago telling you that Alcorian's were hunters- they loved to chase and run. And oh well, with legs like that, he totally had all odds in his favor. You're only chance of escaping was the backside of an old grocery store, old vending machines serving as a hiding spot for you every time you needed one. Your small body always fit right between the two large machines, giving you a sense of security. Not now however, as he almost ran past where you'd squeezed yourself in, hood now completely down as your face- and most importantly eyes- were exposed to be seen.

“You’re- Human!” He exclaims with wide eyes, cat like pupils contracting in shock as you squeeze yourself tighter against the wall behind you, vending machines providing a bit of distance between you and the Alcorian. He’s too broad, too tall to fit where you’re hiding, but his arm is long enough to reach you as he grabs your jacket, pulling on the fabric as if to force you out.

“No, leave me!” You demand, eyes squeezing shut as tears begin to gather. This was it; your chase was over, and this dude would be having you for dinner. Or not- you didn’t really know exactly what Alcorians did with humans after they captured them. All you knew was that you were already small for human standards- these beings were taller and stronger by nature already.

“Sto-Stop being so complicated-!” He gritted our, still pulling on your clothing to get you out of your hiding spot, grabbing a bit more for good measure. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Why did he have to be so fucking strong? The gravel and dirt underneath your shoes made scratching sounds as he slowly but surely pulled you out of your spot, not letting you go even for a second, even as you'd tried to pry his hand off, scratching his skin and making him hiss. "There we- go!" He exclaimed, having gotten you out of your spot, holding you tightly against his chest as he held your wrists tightly, leg thrown over yours to keep you from struggling. You felt your tears fall down your cheeks, as you began to pathetically breath heavier, faster, huffing as you kept your eyes closed tightly. As if you'd wake up.

"Please don't hurt me." You whispered over and over pathetically, a begging tune to your voice as he simply.. hushed you? And wait, was that hand on your head.. petting you?

"There there.." He consoled, as if you were a scared cat he had to calm down. "I'm not gonna do anything okay?" He hummed, letting you calm down for a moment, before he spoke again. "I'm gonna let go of your legs now, okay?" He said, and you nodded with hesitation as he did just as he told you, slowly moving his leg, and softening the grip on your wrists as well. You stayed completely stiff in his hold, not daring to move as he continued. "You're not claimed." He stated, and you nodded again, not trusting your voice as you agreed to his statement. It was rare by now to find an unclaimed human just like that. Something in his jacket buzzed, making him groan a bit, before he slowly stood up. "I wish I had more time to make you feel a bit more comfortable but-" He started, before he pulled out a black.. collar? You instantly struggled again. He may looked nice, but he was an alcorian at the end of the day- you never knew what he'd do. "No no no please-" He desperately tried, looking around in frenzy as he held your hands again. "Look- its nothing bad okay? I just want to help you!" He urged on, making you furrow your brows at him. "I promise you, I really do- I'll take care of you okay? Just- trust me for a bit. You can decide after we took off okay?" He said, and you became a bit less hesitant.

"Take off where?" You asked, and he genuinely smiled at the fact that you spoke to him, before explaining.

"I'm taking you home with me." He said, and you grew uneasy again. "No, don't- don't look at me like that!" He whined, before he squatted down as if to make him seem less dangerous to you. "They're collecting. I've seen you around these parts for a couple of days, and I'd like you to have a chance of deciding where you want to be." He said, and you looked at him in question. But- as soon as he would claim you, you were his property. "I'm just going to put this on you for the duration of the flight, okay? I promise you, you can decide afterwards where you want to go. But we need to move now!" He urged, and you nodded. There was nothing keeping you on this rotting earth anyways, even though you'd still hoped to stay. He beamed at you, smile reminding you of a bunny as he carefully placed the collar around your neck, before taking your hand.

You whined a bit at his tight grip as he looked back, eyes contracting again at the sight of your angrily red wrists. He looked apologetic as he seemed to think, before he simply decided to pick you up instead, carrying you to wherever he was going. "Sorry, for uh.. I didn't mean to." He said, and you simply didn't answer, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you watched the familiar grocery store grow smaller the further away you went.

This really was the end, wasn't it?

"Little one?" A voice spoke, slowly awakening you from a nap you didn't even notice slipping into. You were still leaning against the body of that Alcorian guy who'd picked you up, warm body making you feel sleepy. You moved a bit to detach yourself, as you looked at him, for the first time in proper lighting.

He looked young but mature at the same time, with wide, brightly colored eyes. His dark hair was long and straight, while his face was slightly soft in its proportions. Lips pink and arched into a soft smile seemed to fit perfectly, just like the tiny beauty mark in the middle just underneath his lower lip. He was handsome.

"You can sleep in a second." He promised in a low voice, careful not to disturb other passengers as he looked out the window. "I just thought you.. might not want to miss this." He said carefully, unknowing if this would be a painful goodbye for you.

It wasn't as bad as you thought it would be.

You held onto his jacket a bit tighter as the shuttle roared to life, slowly gaining speed on the runway as it departed, earth and the city growing smaller, until clouds blocked the way. Jungkook watched you with a studying gaze, glad that he'd managed to get you onto the shuttle before departing. He'd found you a few weeks earlier, roaming the streets like a lost animal, as he studied you. You were nice and friendly towards other humans, and agile in escaping Alcorian police forces who searched the streets occasionally. Sharing food was never something you denied when asked, and he'd also watched with a hurting heart as your small amounts of belongings got stolen one night, leaving you with nothing behind.

He just.. had to do something.

Humans were always depicted as selfish creatures only knowing their own benefit, and he had to agree to a certain point; a lot of them were like that. It was understandable to a degree, but it also wasn't, considering that his race had only tried to help. They'd never intended to start a war.

"Whats your name?" You asked in a quiet voice, careful not to speak too loud, as he smiled at you.

"Jungkook." He replied. "Jeon Jungkook." He spoke as he tilted his head. "And yours?" He asked.

"Y/N." You answered, and he nodded.

"You can keep it, if you want to." He said, and you simply leaned into him, watching as you broke orbit, earth now far away. For some reason, you didn't know if you wanted to. There was no reason to keep it, if you were leaving your old life behind like that. He seemed nice, and friendly- a bit rough, but that was to be expected. For some odd reason, you didn't want to decide whether or not to stay with him or not. He'd claimed you, end of story. You didn't even notice that you had started crying until his hand began to run over your head again, shifting a bit to have you sit a bit more comfortably.

Maybe he wasn't so bad.

"And there we are." He exclaimed, setting you down for the first time after the flight once you'd both entered his living space. It seemed- oddly like a regular apartment, with rounded windows and furniture that looked similar to what you knew. You stood still, until he gently tapped your back a bit. "You can go explore a bit- I have to make a call real quick." He said, and you nodded, taking off your shoes before walking inside further, watching as Jungkook left to go into a different room. Alcorians and Humans were similarly developed and shared a lot of technology. It was surprising however how much alike but different at the same time things were. You went closer to the largest window, watching as cars sped by- or, where those planes? It wasn't easy to tell.

"A friend of mine will stop by in a moment." He explained from behind you, as he kept a small distance from you, as if to preserve your personal space. "Just to give you a quick check up." He said, and you grew a bit uneasy, as he suddenly tried to retract his statement. "You know, nothing bad! Just, you know, to make sure you're okay and in good health-" He said, before you spoke again.

"What.. Why am I here?" You asked, and his eyes widened at the realization on what you hinted at. The tips of his pierced ears grew a bit pink at that, as he scratched the back of his head.

"Not for that- promise, I'm not like that!" He said, before he sat down on his couch. "Like I said, I wanted to, you know, get you somewhere safe." He explained. "I work with.. a few friends. We're trying to help humans find compatible people here, to live with." He said, and you nodded, rather sitting down on the carpeted floor a bit away from him. You noticed however, how he said 'people', instead of owners. It made you feel less like a pet.

"So.. you're a rescue organization for.. humans." You stated, and he nodded.

"If you want to call it that, yes." He answered, before someone knocked at the door. You sat up a bit straighter at that, growing uneasy at the visitor. "Please stay calm okay? I promise he's a good guy." He said, before he left to open the door, another tall young Alcorian walking through the door after greeting him. He wore glasses, and his hair was a light sandy brown color, while his eyes looked dark. He spotted you and you slowly began to scoot backwards. Nop, the bag in this guys hands was clearly containing medical equipment, and you were not here for it. "Y/N- No, come back!" He called after you as you ran off to the nearest room, closing the door in a hurry as you frantically searched for a place to hide, choosing the underside of his bed as the perfect place. You could fit right underneath.

"..-rmal for her to react like that. They're usually scared." An unfamiliar voice spoke through the door. "Did you tell her why I would be here?" He asked, and the other voice you clearly by now deciphered as Jungkooks answered with a whine.

"I did, and she was fine with that!" He explained, before the door opened, voices now clearer. "Well, she was a bit scared but I thought that was normal." He admitted, as the stranger sat down near the door, Jungkook next to him as if to block your only way out. Jungkook tried to reach for you only to be held back by the other guy, making him whine at him. "Namjoon, I have to get her out of there!" He said, and the other guy, Namjoon, still pulled him back to sit down.

"You can't force her out like that.!" He scolded, and it got quiet after that for a moment.

You carefully peeked out from underneath the bed, only to be met with Jungkooks smile, and the strangers gentle face. You slowly crawled out of your hiding spot, still staying a safe distance away as you watched both warily. "Hello Y/N. I'm Kim Namjoon, I'm a medical practician majorly focusing on human health." He said, and you scoffed, making Jungkook look at you surprised. You seemed absolutely different from just moments ago with him.

"So you're a vet for humans." You simply said, and Namjoon merely chuckled.

"Feisty. But yeah, you can call it that if you want to." He answered, as you still kept your scowl. "So can you cooperate with me now, or will I have to use force?" He asked, and you became even more hostile, Jungkook stepping in.

"Namjoon no- we won't be using anything like that" He tried, but Namjoon didn't seem to listen as he watched you with an amused expression on his face.

"I'm not a pet." You stated, and Namjoon grinned.

"You're certainly behaving like one." He answered, and you scoffed again.

"Then you won't be too shocked that I will bite you." You said, and the man shook his head.

"You wouldn't be the first one. Your kind loves to be difficult." He said, and your expression got even darker, as Jungkook desperately tried to find a way to diffuse the situation.

"Is that why you like to have us for dinner?" You asked, and both of them looked at you with questioning eyes. "Or is it more fun to fuck us first and then use us as slaves?" You bursted out, standing up as Namjoon looked genuinely caught off guard.

"Is that what they say on earth?" He asked, and you huffed out at that, moving into the furthest corner of the room, needing space. "It definetely does explain the hostility." He mumbled to himself, as Jungkook stood up, walking closer to you, but stopping when you yelled at him to.

"Okay, okay, I'll stay right here." He said, sitting down on the floor a few steps away from you as you hugged yourself in a pathetic way to comfort yourself. This was all getting too much. "If you don't want him here, I'm going to tell him to leave, okay? We don't have to do this now." He said, and you looked between him and Namjoon, uncertain. You may didn't have to face it now, but you had to eventually, right?

"We don't do any of that to humans, by the way." Namjoon suddenly chimed in, as you looked at him. "It's true that humans are being claimed, but they are not forced to do that. Most do it to ensure their safety, others do it out of romantic reasons, and some do it for the thrill, yes." He said. "But no, we don't keep them as slaves, no, we don't use them just for sex, and we certainly do not eat them." He said the last part with an almost humorous expression as you grew shy.

Well, this was awkward.

"Can you stop being difficult now, and let me do my job?" He asked with a more gentle tone now, before you nodded. You didn't walk over to him, however, still not trusting him as you decided to instead crawl onto Jungkooks lap, who happily took you into his arms as you looked over his shoulder at Namjoon, almost as if to say 'fuck you'. "You know, he won't always be there to-" He started, but Jungkook turned around as if offended.

"I will!" He said, holding you like a precious toy he'd just been gifted. "I mean- if she want's to." He mumbled, before Namjoon moved closer, shaking his head with a smile as he started to take your temperature first.

It somehow felt as if he was belittling you. But for some reason, that was okay in some way, considering his bright smile every time he did it. It felt a bit weird at first, but now, after a few days, you felt almost at home with him. You didn't think about earth much, not wanting to spoil your mood while you were with him for that matter.

You were growing a bit more independent day by day however.

Still with his collar wrapped around your neck, since you wouldn't be allowed to roam the streets without one without getting stares left and right, you stopped at a grocery store.

Before leaving today, you had your first fight with the Alcorian.

"I'm not trying to keep you obedient Y/N, I'm trying to protect you!" He explained, trying not to get too riled up as he knew this could scare you.

"But you do! I can't do anything by myself, you're always hovering over me!" You said, and he looked at you in disbelief at that.

You felt so bad, still.

Now more than ever, as you were walking through isle after isle, every word more complicated than the next it seemed. You'd learned some words by now, but most were still a challenge- making it impossible for you to work things out by yourself without probably making a fool of yourself.

You left the grocery store after realizing you couldn't even pay for stuff since he was the one with the money, and it made you feel frustrated. You squatted down near the entrance, calling Jungkook pathetically.

"Little one? Are you okay?" He asked, as if you didn't just fight minutes ago. You sniffled, and he became even more concerned. "Are you still at the grocery store? I'm coming, just wait-" He said, as you chuckled a bit.

"I'm fine Jungkookie I just.. I'm sorry." You explained, as you heard a door close on the other side of the line. "I was horrible to you." You said, but he cut you off.

"Let's talk when I'm there, okay?" He said, and you agreed, waiting for him patiently, trying to ignore the stares and looks you got, some Alcorian kids even pointing at you before getting scolded by their parents.

"I'm sorry." You said immediately as his figure approached you, already opening his arms to welcome you in his hug. "It was uncalled for, I was so mean, please don't hate me-" You said into his chest, as he chuckled.

"What're you doing little one?" He asked with a gentle smile as he looked down on you.

"Apologizing?" You said, and he smiled.

"I know, I'm familiar with that concept." He said, before continuing. "I mean, why? You were just stating your opinion on things." He said, and you felt even worse now.

"But I was mean, and rude to you! I shouldn't be so ungrateful, after all you've taken me in, you let me live with you, you provide me food and shelter, you keep me safe-" You began, as he chuckled again, ruffling your head.

"I do that because I want to. I'm responsible for you." He said, and you nodded.

"I'm sorry." You said again, and he continued smiling. "I managed to find some stuff like flour and Milk, but-" You started, as his eyes widened in wonder.

"You could read that?" He asked in disbelief, as you nodded.

"Yeah, but that's about it. I only picked up on a few words like caramel and stuff-" You explained, as he suddenly squeezed you into his arms, making you whince a bit at his strength. He immediately let go at the sound.

"Sorry sorry, it's just- whoah, my little human is so smart!" He said, genuinely excited over the mere fact that you could read a few words. "It took Taehyung Months to learn a couple of phrases, and here you are, already reading on your own!" He said, and you chuckled a bit at that. Taehyung was a human claimed by Namjoon and his partner Seokjin, who also had a second human by the name of Jimin. You'd met them for a bit prior, but hadn't had a true conversation with them yet. "Lets go then." He said, taking your hand into his as he walked into the store again with you.

Jungkook had slowly learned to hold your hand less tightly than he would usually do, his strength the reason for almost all of Namjoons visits to your now shared home. He didn't mean to hurt you, but it happened occasionally- and you always forgave him. He couldn't help it, and it was almost sweet to see him so upset over it straight after.

"Thats almond milk, right?" You asked, pointing at a carton with a label you thought said the words 'almond milk' on it. Jungkook beamed almost proudly.

"Yep!" He exclaimed, as he kept a hand on your back, a more comfortable gesture to show you he was by your side than holding hands. It was less likely for him to hurt you that way accidentally. "Let's get you something sweet too." He said with a smile, as you smiled back- for the first time, completely comfortable.

"Jungkook?" You asked hesitantly, as you walked up behind the couch, making him turn around.

"Hm?" He wondered, turning the TV volume down lower. "What is it little one?" He asked, as you suddenly placed a couple of papers down onto the small table in front of him. He took them wordlessly, before he suddenly jumped up, head thrown towards you as his eyes were wide open, catlike pupils staring at you as they glazed over. "You-how-" He stuttered, as you swayed on the spot a bit shyly.

"I talked to Namjoon about it the other day. He helped me get all the paperwork stuff done since I can't read much still.." You said, and Jungkook walked over to you, picking you up as he twirled you both around, making you giggle.

The bold letters on the front page clearly reading;

'Official documents for legal human ownership.'

You wanted to be his.

"Do alcorians kiss?" You randomly asked one day, laying on Jungkooks lap as he suddenly looked down towards you.

"We- uhm.. we do." He said, before swallowing the piece of sweets he was eating. "Why- why do you ask?" He wondered, and you simply shrugged.

"I kinda want to kiss you." You said.

And he almost choked.

[foxymoxynoona]

FAQ

Questions I get a lot!

When will you update? Do you have a set update schedule? I don’t. I used to but it became unrealistic once chapters started being 10k+ words. Now I try to update 2 things a week. You can see what the status is on any of my writing on my trello.

Can I request a story? Sorry, I don't write requests except I do occasionally write drabbles as requested. I also sometimes solicit guidance from my patreon on which longer stories I start next so if you want in on that process feel free to join my patreon!

Are you still taking drabble requests? For now, yes! Feel free to send me your drabble request (whether it's related to one of my stories or a totally new idea, either is welcome!) but please understand that I just jump around and get to them when the fancy strikes me, so I won't be able to tell you when it'll actually get written. You'll see them on my trello once I start working on it. Please understand too I write as my discretion and there may be times I choose not to fulfill a drabble request if I'm uncomfortable with the topic or feel like it's not within my wheelhouse to write, but so far it hasn't come up.

How do you write so much? A mixture of committment, practice, priority, and the inability to stop thinking about my stories haha. I have a couple posts on here that talk about my process and style. You can find them with the tag mywritingadvice or writing tips. 

Can I be an emoji anon? Yes! I’ll keep a list below of the ones already claimed. If you don’t interact with me for a few months, the emoji might get freed up if it’s one in high demand. 

Claimed (deleted ones I haven’t heard from in forever 6-12)

🌸🎉🍰🧚🏻👀🛸🍊🧩🌚🍿🐮🦐🐋

Have you ever considered writing _____? The answer is probably yes, haha, but there just aren’t enough hours in the day for me to write all that I want to write, and I make no promises about what comes next after my current stories. I just go where inspiration takes me! There aren't many things I wouldn't try to write, because I like exploring genre, character, odd situations, morality, etc. Just depends on my motivation and comfort at that particular time.

Can you recommend other stories to read? You can check out my fic rec blog here

I don’t like reader insert, will you add an OC to this story? OR I don’t like OCs, will you rewrite this as a reader insert? Probably not! Usually I have a reason I chose to write the story in that particular style. It’s often significant work to change and I’d rather spend writing something new! I understand if this means you don’t read all of my works, that’s ok! I never expected all of my stories to appeal to everyone because this is my opportunity to explore different genres, styles, etc.

Will you ever write a character like _______? Maybe yes! I am thoughtful about every aspect of a characters’ background in each story and what life experiences have shaped them to be who they are in that place and time, and what I feel like suits that particular story, and what I felt comfortable writing about. I hope to continue expanding my character roster in every direction –race, weight, height, culture, sexuality, interests, etc.– beyond my own personal lived experiences.

You write a lot about children and parenthood. Can you write something else? Not every story I write includes these themes but many do because it's what I feel like writing. I am writing during a time in my life in which I have felt very lonely and isolated as a parent of young children and because one of my goals for writing was to explore and better represent the experiences of motherhood. I almost always have tags identifying these stories from the very beginning so they should be easy to avoid if you are uninterested in those plots and themes.

Why do you only write about Jungkook? This is becoming less true over time. I find Jungkook the easiest to write and often ideas for him come to me more easily, but I’m excited to be writing more stories for the other members

Have you considered publishing a book? I am highly flattered this has been asked enough to put on this list. Yes, I have thought about this many times in the past. I had a brief and unpleasant experience with self publishing many years ago, as well as with trying to get some short works published. Someday I will want to give it another go! But for right now, my writing is a protected space of joy and exploration for me. I love writing whatever I want, however I want, sharing it with others and getting to talk about it as I go. Right now I don’t want to do anything that interferes with this really wonderful part of my life. At the point I do decide to write an original work or attempt to de-fanfic any of my works for publication, I will for sure let you all know. 😉 

***** STORY SPECIFIC *****

Will you include (unofficial, rumored, or private information) in your Secret Song Series? No, I won’t. I don’t follow anything unofficial from BTS. I’m not on Twitter. Every character (other than BTS, and I take a lot of creative license even with them), storyline, private event, scandal, etc. in that story comes from my own brain and any similarity to anything in real life is pure coincidence. The "true" things I use are many public performances, awards, and official BTS content but even there I take creative license to use, create new, or cut as I see fit. This is as much a work of fiction as any of my other fanfiction. Please do not send me private photos or personal info about the guys, I don’t want to see it. 😄

Will you write a Secret Song Series book about the other members? Probably not an entire book, but I have started one shots/drabbles/short stories for the other members. I hope to have a collection of these for each member.

How many books will the Secret Song Series be? I don't know for sure. I'd written about 2million words of the story before I started posting, and the timeline of that stretches across about 5 books, but I hadn't written an ending or final chapter yet, so it kind of depends how we're feeling once we get there.

[mshomestyle]

[MHA] Reader x Multiple Characters: Looks like You made Headlines Part II

Yes, most of the same characters as last time. I like writing for them too much. T^T

(Midoriya, Hawks, Shinsou, and Bakugo)

Midoriya:

You put a hand on your abdomen, feeling incredibly bad cramps coursing through the area. You whined a bit and wiggled around on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position.

“You okay?” Izuku asked. He was laying right next to you as you both tried to sleep. You shook your head.

“I feel so awful and sick and blegh,” you told him. Izuku rose an eyebrow, and then like clockwork his entire face turned red. He then shot out the bed.

“Oh! I’ll go to a drug store right now!” He hurried and got ready as you just watched, feeling incredibly impressed that he would go out of his way to get you something for your cramps.

As Izuku hurried out the door, you turned the TV on, knowing that you weren’t going to be getting sleep any time soon. About an hour passed and you decided to catch the late night hero news.

“...And everyone was saved, thanks to the efforts of all of those involved,” the reporter was finishing up a story about a derailed train, “In other news, a civilian was lucky enough to catch a video of Deku at a drug store.” The caption at the bottom of the screen read:

Pro Hero Deku Buys Pregnancy test for Wife!

“What?!” you exclaimed as if you would get a response. The TV then cut to a clip of Izuku standing at a counter, talking to the clerk.

“Which one is the most accurate?” he asked, voice sounding a bit shaky, “You know what, just give me one of each kind!” Seeing that, you put a hand on your face and groaned.

“No...No, Izuku, no.” You knew that your supposed pregnancy would be across headlines everywhere now.

Hawks:

“I just want to go to sleep now,” you mused as Keigo unzipped your dress. Since he was always so busy, it was rare that the two of you could go out on dates or do anything romantic, so you seized that opportunity whenever you could.

“Go to sleep? Or go to bed~?” Keigo asked with a slight chuckle. You huffed a bit before stepping out of your dress after it fell to the floor.

“Don’t forget, you were the one who wanted desert before dinner,” you nudged him before heading into the bathroom, “Gotta live with your choices, bud.”

So, you both spent a nice night cuddling and sleeping. The next day, Keigo went off to work, while you had a bit of time before you had to leave. You just relaxed in bed scrolling through your phone until you came across something that made you scoff. It was a video titled:

Pro Hero Hawks and his Wife going a little too far with the PDA at a restaurant

You could not help but to click on it.

The first thing you noticed was that the video was taken at the restaurant that you and Keigo ate at last night. The place had been dimly lit and the angle being recorded from showed the top of Keigo’s wings and the edge of your dress. That was not the issue. No not at all. The sound, in fact, was.

“Oh, right there...Yeah, that feels so good...” You felt your face heat up immensely! You remembered that last night, Keigo massaged at your neck and shoulders, but that had been it. You would never have sex out in the open like that! Immediately, you sent the link to Keigo, feeling very anxious about what his response would be.

‘Yeah, I saw that. Anyway, want to order food tonight?’

Shinsou:

Two in the morning was incredibly late for most people, but for heroes like Shinsou, it was break time. You sat down across from him in a booth at a 24 hour diner, drinking coffee and having pancakes.

“You really should sleep more,” you teased. Shinsou rolled his eyes playfully before resting his head on his hand.

“Between having a relationship with you and being a hero, I don’t think that’ll ever happen,” he said.

“Oh, ha ha,” you responded, “You’d be so lucky to have more of my time.”

“More? You’re always so demanding,” Shinsou teased. You puffed out a cheek in annoyance as he reached over and rubbed at your head. You spent what time you could together before going your separate ways.

After sleeping in all day the next day, you woke up to a message that Shinsou had sent you. ‘See, even click-baiters think you’re high maintenance.’ You raised an eyebrow before clicking on the link.

Pro Hero Shinsou’s girlfriend Monopolizes his time!

The two were seen last night at a diner where a very peculiar albeit slightly disturbing conversation was heard. It appeared as if, instead of wanting Shinsou out and fighting villains, his girlfriend could care less and would rather...

You didn’t even want to continue reading that.

Bakugo:

You had been working for Bakugo for a few months before the two of you started dating. Currently, you were both doing some grocery shopping as Bakugo had told you earlier that he was going to cook some Mapo Tofu for dinner, causing you to impose a bit.

“Oh, come on, admit it,” you giggled, “You definitely checked me out when you hired me.” Bakugo growled in annoyance, tossing some spices in the shopping cart.

“I’m not some sleaze who’d hire a girl just because I thought she was hot,” he grumbled. You weren’t going to let up, though.

“Come on, admit it,” you smirked, poking at one of his cheeks. Bakugo whacked your hand away before grabbing onto the basket and starting to push it to the next isle.

“Hmph...Fine...I did think you were pretty cute,” he grumbled.

“Haha, I knew it! You though I was hot when you hired me~,” you sung out. If only you had been quieter. News traveled fast; it sure did.

Pro Hero Bakugo only hired his new Sidekick in order to date her!

Today we find out something utterly shocking. Several people reported to hearing a horrid conversation between Bakugo and his new sidekick turned girlfriend. Apparently the pro hero is a big sleaze bag! It was reported that he only hired his new sidekick [Hero Name] because he was attracted to her and wanted to date her.

Needless to say when Bakugo got wind of the article, he was furious. He refused to go on any patrols or missions with you for about a month, not wanting others to see you working together. You wouldn’t lie, though, you found this mini tantrum of his over some gossip article to be pretty funny.

[geminisholland]

i’m covered in you Tom Holland x actress!reader

a/n: whew i had fun with this!! i loved writing this so much! also, if you like star wars and want to give my other blog some love @makerkenobi i would appreciate that!! references to my fave song, ivy by miss swift

requests are open

warnings: cussing, angst, and a whole lotta fluff

word count: 2174

join my taglist!

bold and italics are text messages

italics are song lyrics

The hours spent on set between you and Tom had inevitably created a close bond for the two of you. There were many sleepless nights together, running scenes for hours on end before the director finally shot one they liked. You were each other’s rock during the whole process, Tom made a point to come over to your trailer before a particularly difficult scene, and provide support. You were newer to acting, and Tom helped guide you and give you advice during filming. It was safe to say that Tom was your best friend, and you were his. However, playing lovers on screen and having that chemistry was difficult for you to ignore. You knew that deep down, you had feelings for Tom, you just decided from the very beginning that you couldn’t pursue him. You wanted to make sure you established yourself as a professional, which you are.

You were professional for the entire filming process, never having a night where you drank too much and kissed him. Never. You were quite proud of that, because there were many opportunities where you could have. Tom was hard to read, anyways. You never knew how he was feeling, one minute he’d talk about some girl he likes, and the next he’s going on about how he just wants to stay single right now.

The press tour for this movie was coming along in just a few days, and you were doing your best to prepare. Mentally, that is. The press tour was going to have a lot of bonding time. Interviewers asking you questions every day, all day. Sitting next to Tom for hours on end just talking about each other and the movie. Being only a hotel room away from him. Celebrating the movie coming out with trips down to the hotel bar at midnight, you knew this was dangerous.

A ding from your phone made you snap out of your daze, as you picked it up to look at it.

Tom: Are you excited for the press tour or whattt

You: haha yesss i’m so excited & also kinda nervous?? idk why

Tom: I have that affect on people

You: shut up

You: it’s effect btw

Tom: No it isn’t

You: uhhh... yes it is dumbass

Tom: Shut up

Tom: I’ll see you in a few days in the best city ever

You: you’re only saying it’s the best city because it’s your city

Tom: Ya that’s why it’s the best

You: you’re so annoying i’ll see you soon

With that, you locked your phone, and resumed packing. You really only needed to pack pajamas and workout clothes, because all your outfits for the press tour were being brought in by your stylist. You really couldn’t complain about any of this, you got to play dress up for a month or so, hang out with Tom, and talk about a movie you’re really proud of. Oh, and also travel across the world. That part was pretty cool.

You flew into London a day early so you would have time to adjust to the time difference. Tom was kind enough to invite you to stay the night at his house before the two of you left for hotel rooms every night.

When you arrived, you were extremely tied, and didn’t have the energy to hang out with Tom’s entire family, and his roommates.

“Hey everyone,” You said as you walked into his house. Tom was behind you, carrying one of your bags.

“It’s so heavy,” He groaned out, and you rolled your eyes at him. He was never very subtle about what was on his mind.

“Hey y/n!” Harry called out. “We missed you!”

You looked around the room to see just about everyone that Tom knows sitting in his living room. You weren’t expecting to be met with at least ten people, right after you got off of a ten hour flight.

“Oh... hey!” You let out, your eyes were wide with shock. You were really tired, but didn’t want to be rude. “How is everyone?”

You made your way around, saying hello to everyone, as Tom put away your luggage in the guest room. He came downstairs, and you turned around to look at him. He had the biggest smile on his face, he loved seeing you with everyone. Of course, you had already met and hung out with his family and friends, but you were special to him; which means you getting along with his family and friends was really important to him.

“Hey, Tom,” You said. “Can we talk real quick?”

“Of course, darling,” He responded. You grabbed his arm, leading him out to the backyard so you could talk in private.

“That was really nice of you to have everyone here,” You acknowledged. You looked up at him as he flashed you a grin. He was overflowing with excitement, it had been a few months since you last saw each other in person.

“Everyone missed you,” He explained. “Myself included.”

“I missed you too, Tom.” You looked up at him, your arms were still interlocked together as you stood on the gravel, overlooking his backyard.

“I don’t want to be rude,” You started. He furrowed his brows as you continued, “But I’m really exhausted, and I think I need to just take a little nap. Can everyone come back for dinner?”

“Oh, of course!” He exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking- I was just so excited you were coming, and everyone else was too I ju-“

“Tom, it’s okay,” You smiled at him. He relaxed as your eyes met. “I’m really appreciative, Thank you for doing this. I just need some sleep right now.”

“Of course,” He nodded. The two of you went back inside, and Tom had asked everyone to come back later to give you some time to unwind. You walked into the guest room he had made for you, and laid down on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers as you drifted off to sleep.

Having dinner with everyone later was extremely fun, and you were feeling like yourself again. The entire stay at Tom’s house was incredible, the two of you messed around a lot, but at the end of the day he was really a great friend. The morning you two were getting ready to leave for the press tour, he brought up tea to your room. It was the little things, you thought.

That day consisted of driving to the hotel, getting ready for interviews, and talking a lot about the movie. The two of you ended up in the hotel bar later that night, starting off the press tour by getting drunk. There were multiple days of this; you went from England, to France, to Germany, Spain, everywhere. You and Tom were having so much fun, all you did was talk in interviews, eat good food, sightsee, and get drunk. It was magical, actually. But everything changed when you went to Italy.

“We have Y/N Y/L/N and Tom Holland here, promoting their new movie,” The interviewer spoke into the camera. You and Tom sat beside each other, smiling as they continued to talk and ask questions.

“Was this movie more difficult to film, Tom? Because of how dark it is?” She asked, and Tom nodded his head.

“Oh, definitely,” He began. “I had a hard time with scenes, but luckily I have an amazing costar who helped me out with them.” He placed his hand on your shoulder as he looked over at you.

“And you, y/n?” She started. “It was also difficult?”

You nodded your head, “It’s definitely something I’ve never done before.” All three of you laughed before you continued. “Yeah, it was very difficult, actually. I’m very lucky Tom was there, there were a lot of tears- on and off screen!”

The three of you let out a laugh again, and Tom took his hand off your shoulder, and it fell onto your lower back. You gave him a quick look before the interviewer continued to ask questions.

“Because this movie is so dark, I thought it would be fun to ask some fun, lighthearted questions!”

You and Tom nodded, and she started to begin.

“What are you favorite colors?”

“Blue,” You let out.

“Green,” Tom responded.

The questions kept coming, and you and Tom were having a lot of fun with them. It was something different, and you liked that. Then, she asked the question that changed everything.

“What song reminds you of the other person?” She asked. You and Tom looked at each other, thrown off by what was just asked.

“Uhh,” Tom started. “I think I’d have to say Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra.”

You laughed, knowing why he said this.

“We had a lot of dance parties in the hair and makeup trailer to this song,” Tom answered. You nodded your head.

“And you, y/n, what song reminds you of Tom?”

You hesitated, you knew what song he reminded you of, you just were scared to say it out loud.

“Umm,” You drifted off. Tom stared at you, waiting for your answer. “I don’t know why, but my brain is saying ‘Ivy’ by Taylor Swift.”

You and Tom looked at each other, he looked confused; raising an eyebrow to indicate his confusion. The interviewer cleared her throat, then changed the subject. You spent the whole interview on edge, Tom kept giving you the side eye, and you knew you were going to have a conversation about it after.

Except after wasn’t until much later, you had at least three more interviews to do that day. When this interview ended, you didn’t have any time to chat with him. Your makeup artists rushed over to do touch-ups before the next interviewer walked in.

You were in agony, you wanted so badly to talk to him about this, but the two of you had no time alone. You were doing your best to not look at him, you couldn’t make eye contact right now.

Finally, you wrapped up the interviews for the day, and you and Tom started heading to your hotel rooms.

“What was that?” He asked, breaking the awkward silence as you walked back to you rooms.

“What was what?” You played dumb, but still looked at the ground.

“Look at me,” He demanded. You looked up at him, he was taller than you, and you were already in a vulnerable position. “You told me that ‘Ivy’ was a song that made you feel like you were in love, do you not remember that? You said that when we were filming.”

“I remember.”

“Then what the fuck was that?”

You breathed in, your heart was racing and you started to sweat. You were growing anxious. You looked behind him to see your hotel room number, you were hoping you could escape this. Maybe this wasn’t healthy, you thought. Running away from your problems. You just couldn’t handle him saying anything other than that he feels the same for you. You tried to move forward, but he blocked you.

“Don’t run away from me,” He growled out.

“Fine,” You said. “What do you want me to say?”

“What you meant,” Tom responded. He started to back up, so he was against the wall right next to your hotel door. You stood across from him, on the other side of the door.

“What I meant,” You were stalling. He stared at you, waiting for you to response.

You couldn’t look away, though.

So yeah, it’s a fire, it’s a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it. You started it.

Your eyes met each other, and you started to moved your way closer to him. He started walking towards you, your bodies inches apart.

So yeah, it’s a war, it’s the goddamn fight of my life and you started it. You started it.

You would do anything for him, anything. He breathed out, and you felt his breath on your face.

“I love you,” You whispered. You nodded your head, looking down at the ground. You couldn’t even look him in the face. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He had a smile on his face.

“Oh, y/n, I love you too,” He said. You laughed, but was abruptly cut off by him smashing his lips into yours. You brought one hand to his neck, the other to your back pocket, trying to find the hotel room key. You stumbled, Tom was closing in on you. There was no space left between your bodies, and you were on fire. His hands were in your hair, and he was pushing you up against the wall. You giggled, you were struggling to put the key into the slot of the door, but Tom ripped it out of your hands and shoved it in the slot. He opened the door, then picked you up, taking you into your hotel room.

Now I’m covered in you.

taglist:

@white-wolf1940 @holyfrickfracks @stylessugarhigh @lilhoodhippie @lowkey-holland @lmaotshollandd @thehumanistsdiary @tomshufflepuff @zspideyy @lovely-blackinnon @hollandfanficlove @minejungwoo @th45

[lorei-writes]

HC: Pinky Promises

Premise: MC who takes pinky promises very seriously Request: @spoopy-fish-writes Characters: Masamune, Kenshin

Masamune x MC Kenshin x MC Fluff

Ahh, I seem to be going a bit for thematic days recently, haha. More Pinky Promises to come soon >:3

Content Warnings: war mention, anxiety mention

Masamune

Masamune himself is a person who treats promises with upmost seriousness. He detests having to go back on his word.

As such, he usually is rather specific when spelling the promise itself out. He does not want to purposefully give off the wrong idea or be unintentionally misleading in any way. If he cannot guarantee something, he will never promise it.

That being said, the chosen words do reflect the strength of his feelings. “I promise I will do everything I can to keep you safe.” and “I promise I will keep you safe.” are worlds apart, at least to a trained ear. The first one is within the bounds of reason, speaking more so of his intention than the final effect of it. The second one? It is not just a promise of safety. In saying so, he promises to do the impossible for your sake.

With all that in mind, it comes as no surprise that he understands his lover’s habit reasonably well - or at the very least, so he assumed, the distinction between spoken promise and Pinky Promise having not been made obvious to him for a fairly long time.

It is not that his lover would promise just anything left and right, ending up in abusing Masamune’s trust - it is only that... The Pinky Promises were usually the default type of a promise, to the point where it took months for a standard one to be made and then broken.

It confused him at first. Was there any difference? A promise is a promise, so why...

Luckily, it was a matter of little importance - unwashed dishes could not kill anybody. And yet, it kept him upset until they talked it out, The Truth of Pinky Promises (trademarked) making very little sense to him, at least initially.

Afterwards, he demanded for all promises to be Pinky Promises. It is their little habit now - and if he truly wants something from his lover, he will stare his lover in the eyes, extending the pinky finger towards them in a nearly threatening manner.

“Yes, yes, I will make dinner today, don’t worry,” they sighed, shaking their head in mild disbelief, Masamune still laying in bed - so very unlike him, had it not been for a bandage covering his leg, the injury from the last battle proving to be rather troublesome to say the least. “Promise?” “Promise,” they stated in reply, their gaze already turning away. Masamune  cleared his throat, a hand extended towards his lover waiting in the air, his pinky fingers waiting for theirs. “Pinky promise!” they corrected themselves, a tinge of laughter sneaking into their voice. “I broke a promise only once, you know.” “That’s why I’m not satisfied with an ordinary promise this time.”

Kenshin

To say that Kenshin makes promises would not be nearly enough to describe his habits. He doesn’t just routinely give his word, at least not when talking to his lover - each and every one of his statements is a promise in and of itself. He may not even realise it.

As complex as he may be, Kenshin is very straight-forward when speaking. He does not see the appeal of bluffing, lies and of deceit - quite frankly, even the opposite, such tactics ruining his fun over on the battle field.

It is not that he lacks the intellect to resort to any of the above, quite the opposite. What he lacks is the need to use them. When fighting? He knows his strength and trusts in his abilities enough to rely solely on them. In his personal life? Ah, that would needlessly cloud the communication between him and the few people he let close enough. Although periodically, he may avoid certain topics.

As such, he initially found the pinky promises rather odd. Are they even necessary, he thought? Is my lover doubting me?

The misunderstanding did cause his anxiety levels to raise at first, Kenshin going as far as to make sure every promise he makes is a pinky promise.

It took about a week for his lover to realise something is indeed wrong, the amount of promises increasing nearly daily.

“Kenshin, I have a question,” they spoke, the door closing behind them, their back soon leaning against it. Somewhat surprised by a sudden visit, the lord of the castle put his work aside, the tired gaze rising from a pile of papers in front of him appearing oddly refreshed. “Yes?” “You see... You seem rather unease recently. Is something bothering you?” “No, why?” he replied without a second thought, his lover taking a step forward. “I’ve noticed that you’re making a lot of promises to me. And, do not get me wrong, I do appreciate that and I do know those are not empty words. I only wonder... What changed? You haven’t done so previously.”

As it turned out, Kenshing tried to switch to their type of promises thinking his feelings were not conveyed appropriately previously. After being made aware that it is not the case, his anxiety eased.

They do sometimes take walks where they hold each other only by the pinky finger, thus each and every of his words being a little secret promise between the two of them.

Tag list: @datenoriko, @nad-zeta, @tsubaki3192, @missjudge-me, @ikemencrossedmyth, @nuttytani, @thesirenwashere, @milas-imaginarium, @kisara-16, @yukas-clover, @alerialumina , @cheese-ception , @iamryxx, @cottonfluffballofdoom, @ozziegrl71, @rikumorimachisgirl, @bestbryn, @kink-rabbithole, @cailann @mila-ikigai @fairstival If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)! ^^ Also, do remember to specify fandoms (and characters, if you are interested only in some) :D If it ever happens that you wish to be removed from my taglist, for any reason, do let me know. I will not ask why, it’s all fine ^^

[laufulneutral]

We all know how much I love music Inspos! So here’s one that came to mind whilst I’ve been obsessing over this Coldplay song recently.

I’m sorry if this is crap. Only briefly re read so have fun or not cool thanks bye haha

(It’s a sad Arthur moment)

You are Arthur’s fiancée. Arthur turns up out of the blue after disappearing for 3 months after shish went down in Valentine and the gang had to leave. He never told you and he hasn’t been responding to letters. This isn’t the first time he’s had to go, he disappears a lot to do jobs for Dutch, but you always knew. However things have been strained since the trouble in Blackwater and Arthur goes for longer periods between seeing you, and he doesn’t have the time to see you and it’s all coming to a crashing reality, that unless you keep running with the gang, you can have no future together

A sharp knock on the door takes your attention away from the book you had become so engrossed in. You look up as your Aunt leaves the room to answer the door.

Soon enough you hear the familiar drawl of the outlaw,

“Hello m’aam, is Miss Y/LN here?”

A brief sense of happiness and relief floods your system before it’s taken over by anger again. Anger that he left, anger he hasn’t written once to you or even responded to any of the letters you wrote to him.

“I shall go see”

You hear the door close, and your aunt appears in the entrance to the room

“Mr Morgan is here to see you” she smiles gently, worry etched into her face. You return the smile, and nod once before putting your book aside and standing to straighten your skirt.

“I can tell him your busy” you aunt offers,

“No it’s okay” you reply, twiddling the silver band with a single ruby raised from it on your finger. “He is meant to be my fiancée, I cannot ignore him”

Pulling open the door you are greeted by the familiar cowboy,

“Arthur” you greet him

“F/N” he smiles broadly, taking your hand and raising it to his rough lips placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. The touch sends electric through your body, some things never change no matter how long it has been. “Y’look lovely darlin’”

You close the door behind you and attempt to offer him a smile. You can’t bring yourself to say anything amongst the anger and hurt that’s bubbling more now you are seeing him in person.

“I’ve missed ya” he says, awkwardly knocking his foot against the wood of the porch. The tension between you is thick, “ain’t stopped thinkin about ya since I’ve been away.. some strange people down south”

“Why are you here Arthur?” You snap, unable to continue anymore small talk. His face blanches and his eyes show a quick glimpse of shock and hurt

“I missed ya, and I wanted to say sorry” he answers plainly

“For what?”

“What?” He grunts

“For what Arthur. What are you sorry for?” you demand, impatient with him already.

“Erm…”

You let out a harsh laugh, walking away from him to the low fencing of the porch. You wrap your arms around yourself pleading it will keep you together,

“I would have been back sooner but we ran in to trouble”

You shake your head “ain’t that always the way”

“Ain’t nothing I could of done.. Dutch said..”

You spin round to face him, your patience snapping “well if Dutch said it then it must be gods word”

“Y/N.”

“Don’t” you hiss “I am your fiancée … least I thought I was till you disappeared and I had no idea where you were for 3 months”

“I’m sorry.. Pinkertons showed up and after what happened in Valentine I couldn’t come back and see ya in case someone recognised me”

“How about letters Mr Tacitus Kilgore? Did pinkertons take over the postal system too!” You sneer,

“No” Arthur mumbles, his eyes stuck firmly on the floor. He is so inherently frustrating, he never understands how him disappearing effects you,

“You cannot begin to fathom the thoughts I’ve had about you since you left! I thought you was dead!” You exclaim, your hands swing around widely

“Oh darlin..” Arthur hums, his eyes meeting yours with concern, “course not, I ain’t trying to make you worry”

“What was I meant to think ? I rode out to horseshoe and found it abandoned.. I thought cause I hadn’t heard from anyone that you must be ..” you take a deep breath to stop your voice from cracking and shake your head “That was till I saw Trewlany, he told me you were holed up somewhere near Rhodes. I didn’t believe him at first.. said you would have let me know if you had to go”

Arthur says nothing watching you with a blank expression

“Arthur I have wrote to you. I have wrote and wrote and worried and cried…” you stop yourself, turning away from him again to not have to see his face,

“What can I do to fix it?” Arthur asks you, his voice desperate

You shrug, before mumbling “I just wish it could be like it used to be, y’know back in Blackwater”

Silence stretches out between the pair of you, only broken when Arthur sighs heavily,

“I ain’t too sure what to say darlin.. I’m sorry and I’m here now… ain’t that enough?”

“We’ve done this before Arthur, you do something wrong, I get hurt and then you apologise. We are running in circles, and I keep getting hurt. I’m tired of it”

Arthur comes up behind you and wraps his two warm arms around you. The scent of pine and campfire invades your senses, the smell of him bringing comfort to you the same as it always has done.

“You darlin, are the most important thing to me” he says gruffly, his lips kissing you lightly on the side of your face, the electric tingle igniting your skin, “please forgive me”

“I always do” you answer, your voice exasperated “but that ain’t changing anything, you do it again and again .. disappear for weeks .. this time 3 months. What will it be next time Arthur? 6 months ? A year?”

Arthur’s arms stiffen around you,

“This is my life Y/N, you knew that when you met me and you knew that when you agreed to marry me” he says, his voice irritated “Nobody said it would be easy”

You laugh, shocking yourself, before shaking your head “you’re right ! Nobody said it was going to be easy. Being in love with an outlaw” you take a deep breath before admitting the truth “but no one ever said it would be this goddamn hard”

Your voice cracks, and your eyes begin to threaten unshed tears that have built up over the last few weeks. Arthur turns you in his arms so your face to face, you look up into his sea blue eyes,

“What are ya sayin” he asks warily,

You search his face for something to change your mind on the hard decision you’ve been thinking over for the last month. You find it hard to face the reality when you are in his presence, he is so intoxicating and just seeing the man you love brings you such comfort. Yes he looked different. His beard has grown out a lot since you last saw him, his scar no longer visible under the untamed hair, and he still wore that silly blue, very worn shirt that suited him so well, but he was still that same man who you fell in love with. The same man who drew pictures of you and taught you to ride a horse. The man who when he proposed dropped the ring cause he was so nervous. The man you thought would be your husband

“Say something’” Arthur whispers, his eyes watch you intently,

“I can’t do this anymore” you say barely above a whisper . His eyes go wide and a hand immediately holds your chin so you can’t turn away. His eyes frantically search your face,

“You’re leaving me?” He says with disbelief.

You close your eyes, as tears start to form. When you open them again, you look down at your ring finger. Sliding the gold band off, you hold it out to him. Disgust fills his face at this gesture, his grip on your chin loosens as he steps away from you.

“Y/N… no... I love you” he says, his voice cracking. His face is holds a frown, as he looks at you with hurt and disbelief,

“I love you too Arthur.. but it’s not enough, this is too…hard” your voice cracks and the tears fall down your cheek. You look away from him, but Arthur grips his hands on your arms, making you look up at him through watery eyes,

“It won’t be much longer darlin’…I know it don’t seem great now, but as soon as we have enough money we’ll be gone.. just the two of us” he reassures you with so much belief that you so badly want it to be true. However you know the horrible truth, that there was never going to be that time.. there is always one more job, one more favour to do.

You shake your head, “I think you know as much as me that ain’t the case… you’ll never change that part of you, I wouldn’t want you too. It’s what makes you who you are” you place your hand with the ring in over his heart, “but I am not the women who can live that life with you, I’m sorry”

You slip the ring into the breast pocket of his worn shirt. The same shirt he wore when you first met, it hugs his frame so well and was the first thing you noticed when you met him in Blackwater. The grin he gave you after he brought you a new drink to replace the one his friend Sean spilt when he was trying to dance on the saloon bar. Arthur was so carefree back then, but since the trouble in Blackwater it’s got worse. You respected his lifestyle but couldn’t be a part of it yourself, and had enough of moving all the time. Staying in Coulter was the breaking point, and you both agreed you would stay permanently in Valentine, since it was not meant to be long till you and Arthur left together.

Stepping back out of his grasp, his faces drops and he reaches out again taking your hand which his larger one.

“I love you…so much” Arthur mumbles confused, a broken look on his face that is no longer hidden by his facade of confidence

You smile weakly at him, tears running down your cheeks “I know”

Your voice cracking through the sobs as you pull your hand from his and turn for the door

“Goodbye Arthur”

You step through the door, closing it behind you before he does anything stupid, like kiss you. You knew that was all it would take to get you to stay, you love him too much. Leaning your back against the door you slide down, the sobs overtaking your body.

After a few seconds you hear Arthur’s foot steps recede , and then hooves disappearing until the house becomes silent.

[ziamhaze]

My Future in Fic

Yeah, so, the 100k fic that I’ve been working on for the past six months?  The one that was going to be uploaded to AO3 last week?  Yeah, it’s accidentally getting published...

Where do I start?

I suppose with a massive thank you to anyone who’s clicked on any of my fics over these past two years.  I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again.  I never ever thought about writing as a career.  I’ve never written anything prior to my Harry Potter AU Compartment 451.  I didn’t even take an English class in undergrad or grad school.  I genuinely just had an idea for a fic I wanted to read and since no one had written it, I had to do so myself.  Since then, I’ve written every single day for 2 years.  I left my job in the entertainment industry, got accepted to one of the best creative writing programs in the world on a scholarship, and now one of my stories is being considered at Harper Collins.  Yes, the Harper Collins.  It’s the longest shot in the world, but for legal reasons I was not allowed to upload the fic version on any website prior to submission.  Even if they don’t pick it up, I’ve been advised to continue to shop it around to agents.

What I can do, however, is share the premise.

If you’ve been following my tumblr and watching my tags - I SEE YOU ALL OUT THERE - then you’ll know that this fic was meant to have Zayn with his signature undercut hairstyle and one more little thing...

Someone sent me an ask a while back about what this fic was supposed to be about.  I believe I said something about it being an adaptation fic, but not from a film/tv show/other piece of literature, from a song.  This next fic was meant to be an adaptation of the song Younger by Ruel.  Later on, it also took shape with the help of Remember by Liam and a few others that you can find here.

The miniature summary is as follows:

When his father suddenly passes, twenty-nine-year-old Liam Payne is brought back to the Sydney suburbs where he grew up.  He doesn’t plan on seeing his childhood best friend, Zayn Malik, at the burial service.  They haven’t spoken since going from brothers to strangers one fateful day fifteen years prior.  But Zayn puts an end to this when he approaches Liam after the burial, offering his condolences and asking if Liam can help his archaeological research team with photographing their newest project.  The unexpected closeness forces each man to wade through uneasy emotions.  For Liam, a mixture of grief, lost identity, and confusion over why he’s willing to interact with the one person he swore he’d never forgive.  And for Zayn, a tidal wave of anxiety that comes from finally facing a part of himself he’s always chosen to deny.  When We Were Younger is a story heavily rooted in blurred identities and exploring what loss can look like in two different scenarios: death and friendship.

For obvious reasons, their names will be changed.  Liam, to Hutton.  Zayn, to Cairo (his ethnicity will also be changed to Egyptian).  As you can see, it was meant to be my big ‘enemies to lovers’ fic.  Technically, it’s ‘best friends to enemies to lovers’, but you know.

Right, so what does this mean for me going forward?

I still have so much inspiration when it comes to writing Zayn and Liam as characters.  I don’t plan on putting a complete stop to writing them, but with my career taking this large of a turn, I do have to prioritise my time.  That said, as of now, I can’t afford to write long-form fic any longer.

Soon, I’ll be starting a PhD program where I’ll be writing another full-length novel for mass publication.  For fun, here’s a little insight on the two ideas that I’ll be pitching:

1.  Underground boxer (loosely based off Liam) falls in love with arms gang leader (loosely based off Zayn).  Throughout their love story, the latter has to outrun the psychological trauma his father (the leader of Zayn’s rival gang) still throws his way. 

2.  Cold War AU.  Paris, circa 1950/51.  Ambassador’s son (loosely based off Liam) befriends new student (loosely based off Zayn) at the international school.  Paris is a ticking time bomb; war is about to break out at literally any second.  The two clearly have feelings for each other, but can’t act on them because homosexuality in the 1950s...yikes.  When war does break out, the two are separated, and as Liam’s character goes out to find Zayn’s, he learns a secret of his that changes everything.

Whichever I don’t write for the PhD will be the novel I write following it.

In the meantime, I’m going to continue to write (and edit) like crazy.  Ever since I randomly wrote C451, there hasn't been a day that’s gone by where I haven't written something.  It may have only been a paragraph or two, but never zero.  This is how you get better.  This is the equivalent of going out and shooting free throws for 30 minutes a day.  You have to put in the work in order to get better.  I'm very lucky that I'm incredibly self-disciplined and I've been able to crank out as many stories as I have over the past 2 years.

That said, I’ll be writing shorter little oneshots.  I have several ideas that I’ve been sitting on, but haven’t ever thought to write because I HATE writing short stories.  Little ideas that don't have huge plotline/climax potential, but that I want to just see on paper, I'll probably end up writing.  If I had to guess, I'd say they'll come out to around 10-15k.  Also, sequels?  Prequels?  Haha, you never know...

I’ve also got a series called “Sleep Drabbles” that are, yes, you guessed it, a series of drabbles based around one theme: sleep.  I also have a few scenes that I want to write which are based on ziam’s kids, not actually ziam themselves.  If there’s enough demand for that, I can upload those too, but they’re quite niche, so I don’t think the general fandom would be very interested.

As far as frequency for all of this, I have no idea.  I’ve always done things at my own pace and written stories that I want to write, for myself.  That won’t ever change, so I don’t want to commit to one drabble a week or one short-length fic per month.  It takes me weeks (months for this last fic) to research and interview the necessary people to get character arcs correct/believable.  I love that part of writing, and so if I have a little story that I want to write that may only be 10k but takes me ages to put together how I want, then so be it.  I will always be around to answer asks/messages and please, continue to tag me in your writing tag posts!  But please, no prompts.

So, that’s my future with fic.

Again, I cannot say thank you enough to every single one of you.  Every single thing that people tag me in (@malik-payne , @zqua1d , @zentiment , @liamisthesun , @redyellowberry I’m looking at you), I appreciate and love!  The recommendation lists that people have put me on, THANK YOU!  It’s wild to think that I used to look to rec lists for years and now I’m on them.  @ziamfanfiction THANK YOU for always having my back with exposure!  @paynefulperiods , my beloved beta reader, THANK YOU for always encouraging me and putting up with shit first drafts.  @march-z5 , THANK YOU for always being on call for ideas and listening to me bang my head against the wall at 4 am.

Now, might fuck around and make a fake picspam for the fic that never was...

Also, all of the behind scenes pages for each of my fics are now public, so feel free to check those out here.

I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for making this journey possible. I know people say that a lot when they gain a following of any sort, but I truly truly mean it.  You have to have talent in order to be an author, but you also have to have people who want to read your stuff.  Proof of concept is a real thing.

So thank you a million times over.

Speak soon my friends.

[lillianfromaccounting]

okay so clint okay cupid fic (haha funny cause of what we were just talking about)

wei to go

and neighbor story

tell me stuff

Clint OKCupid fic is a short story of how you (Reader) sets up an OKCupid profile for Clint because you think he should start dating again, not realizing that Clint has thing for you.

Snippet

"What is this?!" Clint held up his phone. His OKCupid profile stared back at you.

"I thought it was time you got back in the game," you tried to say with a straight face.

"If Steve can manage online dating, so can you."

"I--I don't have time for this," Clint objected.

"Oh please, you can't be busier than Captain America."

Clint's phone buzzed.

Wei to Go is a multi book (outlined, not anywhere completed) fic about Cara Wei, who was once a student of the Ancient One, but returned to the states to help out with her family.

A few years later, she is approached by the Avengers to help guide them to a Kree outpost to bust Thor, Drax, and Rocket out of prison. They succeed but she ends up stranded there with Steve and Loki, and no magic ring to portal them back. As they navigate their survival and escape options, they also form unexpected bonds.

In Book 2, Cara recruits the Avengers to help her family. Someone is threatening to sabotage her brother-in-law's new luxury cruise line. Cara and Steve go on board the cruise as a fake married couple in order to get to the bottom of this. Loki joins the cruise as the captain to lend their support. There's a lot of unspoken feelings. (Yes, it's a Steve - OFC - Loki love V. I don't know what my brain was thinking. I still don't know who she ends up with, if any of them.)

Excerpt from Book 2

Cara put the newspaper clipping down on the breakfast counter and shoved a big forkful of pancakes into her mouth. Maple syrup hung at the edge of her lips as she digested the information in front of her.

Last month, New York City actress and model Ms. Rana Wei married Mr. Jason Mok, CEO of Pieces of Eight, the fastest growing immersive experience entertainment company. The wedding took place at the New York Public Library and was attended by many A-listers. Ms. Wei is the daughter of Mr. Fenimore “Fen” Wei, chair of the New York City Asian Coalition, and Mrs. Jane Wei, nee Kim, on the Board of Education. Ms. Wei’s attendants were her older sister, Councilwoman Ali, and younger sister, Cara. Mr. Mok was number one on Forbes’ Thirty Under Thirty list for the last three years.

Cara played the events of last night over and over again in her head. It was an ordinary Sunday night dinner at her parents'. Rana and Jason just got back from their honeymoon.

“We need your help,” Rana said, sitting down next to Cara on the couch. “You still work for that private security company, right?”

“Uh--yeah, why?” Cara had told her family that she worked in private security, which wasn’t a complete lie. Her parents would never have approved her joining SHIELD and subsequently, the Avengers.

“We received a threat to the new luxury cruise line Titanic.”

“You do realize you jinxed it by naming it that, right?” Cara sassed. “Why don’t you go to the police?”

“Because of this,” Jason held his phone out.

Neighbor story is an original story about a man who becomes a caretaker for his dying grandfather. Daniel grew up spending every summer at his grandfather's house. When his mother called him to tell him that Poppop had fallen very ill, the only thing to do was to go to his house. In the midst of spending time with his grandfather, Daniel gets reacquainted with his childhood love, Suzi, Poppop's next door neighbor.

Excerpt

"What do you think you're doing?" a woman's voice called out from below. Daniel looked out the window and saw Mrs. Kawasaki by the ladder. It didn't sound like her though. He climbed down.

"What are you doing to my tree house?" she demanded an answer. Under the brim of the hat, Daniel saw the face of his childhood love, Suzi Kawasaki, Mrs. Kawasaki’s daughter.

"Your tree house? Last time I checked, Poppop built this for me."

"I've been maintaining it for the last decade. I have squatters rights now."

"You have not been doing a good job maintaining it. It needs a new roof," Daniel smiled.

"I was going to paint it next weekend," Suzi looked away, not giving Daniel the satisfaction of seeing that she couldn't resist smiling back.

"No, a paint job wasn't going to do. It needs new shingles. Maybe a new board."

Suzi crossed her arms. "Well, fine. As long as you're not tearing it down. I'm not kidding about squatter's rights. I still sleep there on clear nights."

"Noted," Daniel said. Suzi turned around to walk back to her house, in her silk floral pajamas and wide brimmed hat.

"It was good seeing you, Suzi!" Daniel called after her. She waved without looking back.

Suzi knew he was coming back. Poppop's health had been deteriorating and Mrs. Swenson mentioned that Daniel was coming back to help out. She just didn't expect him to look so good. How dare he age so well? And then he mistakens her for her mom!

As Daniel pulled the remaining shingles off the tree house’s roof, her words finally sank in. She still slept there on clear nights. He was instantly taken back to the summers where they would fall asleep in the tree house looking at the stars.

Thanks for asking!

[anothertimdrakestan]

Marrying Each Batboy HC! (insanely soft and fluffy)

req: "Hi!! I hope you’re having an amazing day! I love your account // it’s literally platinum. I was wondering if you could do maybe do a planning your wedding with the batboys/YJ boys too of you’re up for it?? Thank you! 💕"

i'm always up for it! thank you for the wonderful compliment i'm honored 🥰🥰🥰! I shortened this to just the batboys because i went off and realized i didn't want this post to be like a million words so i'm calling this part one! part two with yj boys will be up in a couple hours or so! i hope you enjoy!

CHECK PT 2 WITH YOUNG JUSTICE BOYS!

Dick Grayson

- tell me dick doesn't follow you around like an excited puppy showing you millions of choices for your wedding

- he's convinced he can bake the wedding cake but after THREE different tries it's a definite no unless it's a cereal cake but that's honestly still too risky

- everyone knew dick was going to marry you

- partially because he'd been telling everyone since your started dating, some people genuinely thought your name was Y/N Grayson because your loving boyfriend/fiancé only used that name

- the only downside to marrying dick is the invitations

- this man has led/worked with/trained almost a hundred heroes then add that to all his random friends he makes while in adventures PLUS all his coworkers PLUS all their s/o PLUS all your friends and family

- because you're marrying dick, damian takes it upon himself to perfect everything for you but only you know this

- lil dami shows you his sketches of bouquets, hair styles, wedding center pieces, and small swatches of color schemes he knows you'll love

- nothing makes dick happier than his little bro wanting to make your day perfect, he loves watching you and damian excitedly sketch designs and will do everything to make your dreams come true

- dick's biggest thing he wants is a first dance with you, he will convince you to take ballroom classes to shine on the dance floor and he looks forward to whispering in your ear while holding his wife to his chest for the first time, swaying you to your favorite song

- dick has dreamt of marrying you since the day he met you, his excitement is unmatched and heart warming, every night he'll tell you how he can't wait to marry you, and you know that if you're marrying your lover boy nothing else matters because it'll be perfect.

Jason Todd

- jason won't want to wait to marry you

- after the proposal, during which he cried like a baby, he's ready to marry you the next day against his families wishes

- they want to watch The Red Hood settle down with the person that makes him good, Dick threatens to abduct you if you try to elope without him

- this causes for a quick venue pay out by Wayne Ent. and simplistic decorations and a small gathering

- you invite close family and friends and jason begrudgingly invites his entire family

- you get jason to agree to wait a month or so to get married on the grounds that there will be an open bar and buffet for his dining pleasure

- originally he tried to feign annoyance but as the days went on he slowly crept into the planning, pointing out how beautiful red roses look in bouquets and that he actually didn't mind the lace table covers paired with the satin napkins and silvery tableware

- jason's family each plan to give hilarious toasts to the newly weds to jason's disgust but secret excitement

- jay will demand a honey moon, but he won't tell you or his family where it is

- you'll take the time during the honey moon to give your vows in private, making soft promises and loving remarks between just the two of you, because your love is the reason for the union of your lives, and the promises you make are so personal and loving they seem better to be made in private with the love of your life

Tim Drake

- before any wedding planning tim would take either your best friends or family out and ask for permission to marry you, not because you're property to held but because he wants to prove to your loved ones that he'd do anything for you, and he knows that their approval is everything to you

- your best friend would totally pull his leg and be like "hmm i don't know i thought you and y/n were just friends?!" and tim would almost pass out until "UM DUH IM KIDDING THEYRE TOTALLY HEAD OVER HEELS FOR YOU TIM HAHA OF COURSE YOU CAN MARRY THEM!"

- tim would want a destination wedding, somewhere beautifully foresty and green, surrounded by the cleanest air and the best views

- he likes the idea of marrying outside of Gotham because you remind him he's more than just a ceo or hero, you show him the beauty of life and he'll want to portray that through the venue itself

- he might struggle with the anxiety of wanting to impress everyone who's coming or question if the wedding is cool enough

- reminding him it's just you and him, surrounded by your loved ones, the people who never expect perfection and love each of you for you!

- he takes the "to be married can't see other" saying very seriously, refusing to tell you about his suit other than the color and almost fainting if he sees anything that looks like a white dress or fancy suit anywhere near him for fear it's yours

- if you'll let him, he'll hire a wedding planner to take the pressure off your shoulders

- he'll send you on cute day trips to get massages, manicures, facials, or other fun activities in the days leading up to the wedding to pamper you

- tim would want to take pictures at the wedding, he's often busy with heroism or work trips so he wants the best day of his life memorialized by the best photographer money can buy so he can have the photos forever to remind him that he won the only game that truly matters, and if everything seems bad he'll always have you

Damian Wayne

- damian might not have understood the concept of weddings for a while, if he knew he loved you why did there have to be a big party to secure it?

- whay gets him hooked on the idea is the decor, he loves getting to sift through design ideas and concepts making the most extravagant designs for the two of you

- he also would take special time on your ring, he'd spend months drafting and finalizing a ring created by him, a design that no one else in the world would ever have but his beloved

- the ring would be delicate and expertly designed, he'd include little ridges to fidget with because he knows you like to toy with your jewelry so he'd try to make the ring beautiful from all angles, he'd engrave the inside of the ring with a saying personal to just the two of you so that you knew his love was sitting right on your finger

- dami might get stressed before the wedding, the night before instead of sleeping separately with his bachelor party he'll sneak into your bedroom and you'd both spend the night talking about your future and how nervous but excited you were

- that night was your vows, it was private and soft and loving, it was perfect. there was no need to try to perfect a speech in front of thousands when you gave damian your promises the night before the wedding, held tightly in his arms while he swore the same

- that's a common theme for your relationship, damian comes to you when he's scared or nervous, he trusts you infinitely and rushes to your embrace when he thinks no else cares for him

- the day of the wedding you and damian will do a first look, there are beautiful pictures of damian's watery eyes meeting yours as he admires how perfect you look

- embracing him as he tells you all his vows still stand forever and always, then parting ways only to be married in a few hours, it all felt beyond perfect, your forever and always.