#thing I wrote that got kinda long most of it is under the line break

[ceruleanchillin]

But is she really yours? (141 x Reader)

Note(s) -

It's long, so be warned.

The guys are doing a little of what we like to call Dirty Mackin, and yes, I think this is something they’d all do in their own way.

Still working on getting those accents to come through, while not stepping into cringe/wrong territory. 

I apologize, this is a very messy format (borderline stream of consciousness), and I’m trying to figure out a cleaner way to do this. I hope it doesn’t hurt the reading experience.

And I am the only one who kinda wants to see the reverse scenario, where Reader tries to get the guys away from their trash gfs? 👀Thanks to @bunnyreaper for the idea, it wrote itself as I read that.

Simon:

Annoying. That was the first thing Simon thought of you. So of course you had to work at the only cafe near his flat that made tea the way he liked.

You were always on your phone, arguing with someone (he guessed a boyfriend), and he hated getting stuck at your register. The calls clearly distressed you, and he didn’t know why you kept taking them. Especially on the job.

You’d gotten his order wrong more times than he could count, and you were always having to turn around and ask him to repeat the things he wanted. It got to the point where he waited until the other barista’s line was open.

Unfortunately, other customers had done the same, and it was causing a backup.

Then there was the day. His day started as it always did on his off time. The three S’s, and then he was at the gym to get his time in when he knew it was mostly empty. Then finally, his black tea.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself for the wait before he entered. As expected, there was a line.

You were there, and you appeared to be deeply engaged in conversation with the only person at your counter.

He was surprised to see you had a customer. ‘Must not be a regular.’

As he got closer to the counter, he could overhear the whispered argument. The man wasn’t a customer at all, he presumed he was the boyfriend from the phone calls. Based on the things the two of you were saying, that made the most sense.

‘Great. Getting the live version today.’ Simon had to wonder how you kept this job. Were you the boss's daughter? Did you own a share? Could he steal enough of the signature black tea blend and go into hiding until he had to ship out again?

You looked exasperated, and your co-worker stepped over to your side, coming to your aid.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Simon groaned, realizing the wait would be longer. 

He stepped outside for a cigarette, making the mental decision that if by the time he was done with it there was still a line, he would forgo his drink that day.

He chose the alley on the side of the shop, not liking the openness of the sidewalk, and staked out against the opposite building’s wall.

He was halfway past the tip of his cigarette when the side door he’d been eyeing warily opened, and out came you.

You looked frustrated, anxious, and maybe a little embarrassed. He didn’t think you noticed him, instead, walking over to the dumpster and kicking it, hard. It sent a loud, tinny groan echoing through the alley. He narrowed his eyes, feeling that itch of frustration under his skin.

You noticed him finally, and stopped angrily muttering to yourself. Instead, you started talking to him. It was mostly an uninterrupted stream of dialogue for two minutes straight (he timed it), before he could finally understand you.

“Mandatory break! That’s the second one this week, can you believe that?”

He started to say yes, and that he hoped the third one won you a prize: getting fired. He kept his mouth shut though.

“It’s not even me, it’s my boyfriend. He means well, but he just…I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” You were searching for something in your apron, but he couldn’t tell what, out of the corner of his eye.

Simon flexed his fingers, eyes narrowing until the shop’s logo mural was a blur. You found it, and walked closer to him until he turned both eyes to you.

“Can I get a light?” You gestured with the unlit cigarette between your fingers to the one burning between his lips.

“Bloody. Fuckin’. Hell, Bird! S’not enough you keep half the fuckin’ place backed up on a good day, but then you prance your arse out here to annoy me some fuckin’ more? Fuck off.” He jabbed his pointer finger at the door you’d come out of.

The alley echoed his baritone, and somehow made his outburst sharper.

You stared at him like he’d taken his head off, instead of having bitten off yours. Eyes wide, bottom lip trembling, he thought you might cry, and he began to feel guilt grow in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten, in the midst of you stirring up similar agitation, that he wasn’t on base talking to some recruit dumped on him. 

You did cry, but once you started talking, he suspected it was more due to anger. “Fuck you! You fuck off, I work here!”

He ignored the small voice telling him ‘stop’, and fired back. “Work?” He snorted. “Real fuckin’ rich that is. Don’t confuse work with your million mandatory breaks.”

You clenched your fists, eyes wild with adrenaline and voice shrill with anger. “Go to hell. You’re just some freak in an alley who can’t remember when Halloween is. You don’t know me.”

You angrily wiped at your tears to no avail, as more quickly took their place, and then you started sobbing. 

Simon sighed, feeling like shit and wishing he’d held it together just a little more. “Alright. Alright. ‘Nuff of that now.”

“I’m not crying *hic* because of you…” you huffed, trying to get your voice under control. “Just go back to your cigarette. I hope you suck it up and *hic* choke!”

He chuckled, you were the first person in a while who’d lashed back out at his harsh disposition. At least to his face. “Was uglier than I should’ve been, but won’t pretend there wasn’t some truth to it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re a shit barista, wanna form a band?” His lips quirked into a smirk around his near-stub cigarette.

For a beat there was silence, until the two of you burst into laughter. Yours a raucous peal of giggles, and his, raspy chuckles.

“Well, you earned that light. Got more balls then a lot of soldiers I know.”

The two of you stayed in that alley for thirty minutes just riffing off different topics. It ended with Simon giving you the friendly (read: rough) advice to not let your boyfriend cost you your job.

That’s not how he saw his day going. Having the most interesting conversation he’d had in a while with the woman who annoyed the piss out of him for the better part of his leave.

You were no longer annoying, you’d been upgraded to interesting, and that was the second thing Simon thought about you.

After your talk in the alley, Simon was pleasantly surprised to find that you’d taken his advice and stepped your skills up. It turned out, you were distracted by your boyfriend, but Simon had come to see why. He was obsessed with knowing where you were, and if you were thinking of him, and wondering if he should drop by. 

Simon felt more guilt for being so impatient, and he decided no matter what, he would pick your line. That was the only reason too. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t stop thinking about you after your last conversation. 

Sometimes you would take your breaks with him now, exhibiting that same forward nature from the alley, but it no longer annoyed him. He’d tease you about whether or not that break was mandatory, but he looked forward to it all the same.

You talked about anything and everything, from where you were from, to Simon having to explain the delicate ins and outs of football to you. (He was pretty sure you were pushing him to have a heart attack by pretending you forgot a different detail every time you talked).

It was an unstated, but mutually understood, thing that your time together fulfilled something missing for both of you. For him it was cutting into his habit of cutting off socialization until he was back on base or a mission, and for you, it was a break from your relationship.

He liked to think that you looked forward to your talks as much as he did, if your expression every time you saw him was an indicator. 

Unlike him, you were an open book, so you did most of the talking. Simon soaked up everything you told him, filing it away. You were funny, and fascinating.

On his end, he was careful about some of what he shared, and nervous about other things. He had more dark or restricted anecdotes than humourous or endearing ones, and he didn’t want to bring you down. After all, you had more than enough of that to deal with.

The boyfriend. He was a nightmare of obsession and insecurity. It was perhaps your fourth break-hangout that Simon saw it completely for himself. He’d all but dragged you out of your seat, which made Simon rise from his so quickly, it almost toppled over behind him. He wasn’t unaware of his size, nor was he afraid to use it on the shorter man, but you assured him it was fine until he sat down.

Your boyfriend was panicking, wondering why you were keeping someone like him company. He wanted to know what it meant for the two of you, and Simon hated seeing you in an endless loop of begging the pathetic prick to believe you loved him. All of your humor and your cute little habits disappeared as he forced you to become a helicopter girlfriend, concerned only with his fears.

Simon decided then he would sway you away from him. He didn’t deserve you, and Simon may not have known you long, but he couldn’t stand to see you withering under him and his emotional blackmail. No one ever accused Simon of being sane.

You would be his, and that was the third thing Simon thought about you.

If he said so himself, he was slick about it. He’d forgotten about the amount of energy it took to pursue a relationship with someone, and why he limited his romantic interactions to hookups with women he found interesting.

You weren’t just interesting, he was fully infatuated with you by the time he started to actively move towards getting you away from that neurotic dumpster. You were worth the effort.

It started with seeing you outside of the cafe in a way that seemed natural. He thought about it for a while, before he settled on inviting you to a football game. He couldn’t believe he’d worried that you’d say no, your ‘yes’ came out before he was even done asking.

You were impressed with his timing, confessing that the night before, your boyfriend had thoroughly embarrassed you at a party, and you needed a fun day.

Simon had smiled tightly all through your hurried explanation that everything was fine, and that he had apologized once you got home with him.

The day of the game, you were absolutely adorable when he picked you up. Giddily introducing him to your roommate. She eyed him with approval, and even congratulated you for trading up.

Before you could correct her, he slipped in his answer. “That remains to be seen. Depends on if she embarrasses me at the game.”

You snorted, launching into that now familiar peal of giggles. “I promise I won’t. Now, which of these soccer teams is yours again? The Manfordshire Mermaids?”

“You wanna ride there on the roof?”

The trip was a better investment than he thought. You were enthralled with what was going on, the hype of the crowd, the skill of the players, and just being there in person. However, you had to rely on him to translate this new world to you, and that left you literally clinging to him in interest. Simon was your whole world in that stadium, and he locked that feeling down tightly for motivation.

Step one had gone off without a hitch, and now it was on to step two. 

Outings with you became a series. Simon encouraged as many as possible in order to trigger the response he wanted.

He knew it wouldn’t be long until your boyfriend started getting antsy, and insecure again. You were going out twice as much as you had before you started hanging out with Simon outside of the cafe.

To push the matter, Simon told you his work schedule was getting hectic. It was a half truth, the training period before the announcement of a deployment had commenced, and Simon planned on having a girlfriend to come home to this time. Namely you.

He used the excuse to create later meetups. Dinners, movies, wandering the street and stumbling into things to do. All the while getting you hooked on his touch. Simon wasn’t a touchy-feely person by nature, and this was something everyone who knew him picked up on quickly. You picked up on it too, but he wanted to touch you. He didn’t though, at least not often. 

Starting off with little touches that could be confused as an accident, he increased the pressure but kept the frequency low so you became addicted to his rare touches. He wanted you to feel special that someone like him indulged you in that way, so that you’d seek out more, even though HE was the one who felt blessed every time he felt your skin on his.

When you were together, he made sure things were about you. He didn’t imagine your boyfriend left much room for that with his paranoia, but he wanted to show you what you were in for once you were together. 

One night, Simon kept you out later than usual. He’d stayed away from you for two weeks, which wasn’t hard, work was starting to pick up. He could’ve carved out a day or two though, but he wanted to make you crave his time like he did yours. 

It worked. He scheduled a late dinner at an upscale restaurant, letting you fill him in on all that he missed. Namely, you missed being with him. You weren’t the type to keep your feelings to yourself, and you’d inevitably vented to your boyfriend about missing your friend. He didn’t like that label at all, but he liked what would come from your actions.

Periodically throughout the dinner, your phone rang, increasing in frequency as the night wore on. 

You had to excuse yourself multiple times, and Simon pretended to be annoyed. In reality, he anticipated that. Each time the phone rang, you cringed and looked at him apologetically. 

On what had to be the tenth time, Simon said. “Go on then, run off to pamper the pathetic bastard. Powder his arse too this time.”

Your face screwed up in objection to his barbed words. “He’s just worried…”

He shrugged. “Don’t owe me an explanation lovie. S’just a mystery why you’re in such a rush to be a nursemaid.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the table. “I’m in a rush to be a good girlfriend thank you. Stop being an ass, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“S’go,” he downed the last of his bourbon before he pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll pay the tab and take you home.”

“What? We’re supposed to have dessert, and then maybe a movie.” 

Simon watched your distressed body language and expression with mild amusement, and he was proud of being able to hide it, even though he’d forgone his mask that night. “You’ve gotta tuck in your kid. S’not on me you won’t date a man.”

You pouted and sat back down. “If I put my phone away, you put your wallet away. You promised me dessert.”

He smirked, refusing to hide it now. This was the first time, since he’d met you, that you’d ignored your boyfriend, and it said a lot.

You did it once, so Simon was able to turn it into a habit. Your boyfriend looked increasingly unhinged as Simon made sure you starved him of your attention.

The ugly voicemails and text messages began soon after. He didn’t like that at all, and he had to remind himself the time to deal with your boyfriend would come, but he did appreciate that you were becoming less tolerant of him. 

Every time you returned to Simon after having to soothe your boyfriend’s ego, and stop his tantrums, Simon made your life easier. He worshiped you in subtle ways, reminding you of what a man was, compared to a child.

There was guilt on your part, but it felt so good to be taken care of for once. To not have to worry about Simon bursting into a fit of insecurity that made you completely responsible for his feelings, and left little to no room for anything else. 

When he touched you, it lit your nerve endings on fire. You knew that the touches were bordering on inappropriate, since you were still taken, but you also knew that your brain went numb with good vibrations with even just a brush of his fingertips.

Simon still kept it light, almost questionable as to whether it even happened, and you finally began to seek it out. Wearing backless tops so that his fingertips would brush your bare skin, sitting next to him in diner booths so a thick thigh was always brushing your own, going for things in high places so he’d steady you by your waist.

He never seemed to miss a beat on when and where to touch you, but it wasn’t enough.

The breaking point came when he invited you to a dinner Price was holding as a goodbye to civilian life until next leave. The verbal invitation was the most valuable thing to you in a while. Not only because you were increasingly becoming addicted to him, but because for someone like Simon to invite you into that part of his life, it meant that he was in deep with you too.

All of Simon’s friends were funny, inviting, and very taken by you. They were so polite to you, complimenting you, and telling you as much as they could about their work, trying to impress you.

You were having fun trying to keep up, but you got the impression that Simon inviting a woman he was seeing to meet them was a new thing, and they didn’t know the protocol.

You were surprised to find he went by Ghost in his field, and they were unused to hearing Simon. You shared how the two of you met, and how polite he wasn’t in your first conversation, and they weren’t surprised.

You were enjoying your time with them, the conversation never stopped, and you would venture to say Simon looked fond at times. Though, as each man became more flirtatious, his expression would change. It became an unspoken game between you and his team to try and make him speak up about it. He didn’t take the bait.

Then came the topic of your boyfriend.

“Come now love, you’re a smart girl. Why do you wanna waste your time with that bellend?” - Price

“I don’t ken what the situation here is, but if Ghost and the other one don’t appreciate you, I promise I will.” Soap

“I had a girl once, who used to follow me in her friend’s car, sit outside my apartment, and call me from different phones to test me. You’re fit as hell love, dump him.” - Gaz

 It was a little embarrassing, and you were slightly annoyed that Simon had told them, but your mind kept shortening it to ‘he talked about me to his team.’ 

During dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom. While you were washing your hands, Simon slipped into the room, making you jump.

Your eyes met in the mirror, where Simon just glared.

“Have fun with the boys, bird?”

“Have fun broadcasting my business?” You raised an eyebrow, but your tone held no anger to it.

Simon chuckled, locking the door. “S’not my business is it?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head slowly.

He trapped you between the sink and himself, hands locking onto the counter on either side of you. 

“Let’s fix that.” His lips pressed to the pulse point on the side of your neck, speaking his command against it. “Get rid of him lovie, and come home where you belong.”

You tried to do just that, but for the first time that you could recall, your boyfriend wasn’t taking your calls.

Simon watched you while he packed, tucked beneath his sheets where you belonged, bare. It’d been a week since you took that next step in his captain’s guest bathroom, and you’d been trying to inform your ex he was now in fact, your ex.

You gingerly rolled over to face him, mindful of all the reminders that he loved you he left your body. “Si, he’s still not picking up. I don’t want to do it over the phone, but…”

“Don’t get worked up. Maybe he got the message already...”

Kyle:

He’d re-visited Chicago on his downtime, and met you in a club. Unknown to him at the time, your boyfriend had stood you up for the third time that month, and you decided not to waste the night. It’d made you so free and enthralling to watch, he couldn’t look away.

Gaz spent the entire night with you, glad he’d ignored the jet lag, even when you took him to all the best after-hours spots.

The only problem was your boyfriend, Keith, who Gaz personally believed formed in the bottom of a toilet, and sought life elsewhere. His team thought he was delusional, and/or giving you too much thought.

“You hitting the States again then? Don’t get in the kind of trouble that you can’t get out of because you’re jealous.” - Price

“Garrick! Get your fuckin’ head off your cock, and on the exercise, before I shove my boot down your throat!” - Ghost (after he fumbled a training exercise twice)

Except for Soap, Soap backed his delusions %1,000. “She let you charge your phone when hers needed it more? That’s wedding bells lad, and I wanna be best man.” 

Then there was the relentless teasing every time he spent his leave with you, but Gaz didn’t care. He couldn’t bother being embarrassed when you were waiting for him. Your grin was for him, your excited laughter was for him, and your hug was for him. The one he always held longer than friends do, his heart racing when you relaxed in his hold. Smirking when he felt your nose brush over chest quickly. You were sheepish when he grinned down at you, realizing what you were doing.

You’d gotten him cologne on his first (date) daytime hangout with you. You’d been strolling through the mall, Gaz trying to make you forget about the ugly scene he’d walked into between you and your boyfriend when he arrived at your place.

You’d been so sad, and it didn’t suit you at all. He just wanted to take you out of that environment, and let your real-self blossom again.

His hand brushed with yours, pinkies locking and unlocking so he could feel his stomach dip again and again.

He was able to slowly bring you back, into a little world of inside jokes and friendly culture clashes. Gaz fully had you back by the time he stopped in front of an expensive looking fragrance shop and said:

“You know what? I need a new aftershave, but I’m clueless about shopping for that stuff.”

“Uh, aftershave?” you’d looked puzzled, peering into the store window. “Do they even sell that here?”

He let out a confused laugh, pointing at the bottles on the glass shelf. “We’re looking at it, so I’d guess yes.”

“You mean cologne?” you gave him your first real smile since you’d gotten there, and Gaz forgave yet another correction in favor of it.

“Get in here, and help me find an aftershave.”

He proposed that you guys find the perfect scent for the other and buy it as a gift. The two of you spent the better part of thirty minutes teasing and sniffing each other. Every time Gaz lifted a part of your arm or wrist to his nose, he let his lips brush across your skin accidentally.

“Kyyylee..” you whined every time, making him stir in the right places at the wrong time. 

Eventually you both settled on something for the other, but Kyle slyly placed himself in the position of paying for both. The thought of you paying never having been a real thing in his mind.

“You’ll get it next time, love.”

He treasured that scent, you’d specifically picked it out for him, and he’d savored the look you gave him when you’d finally found it. Now he was in front of you again.

“Yeah, it’s the one you bought me. Did me a good turn with that. I get compliments like they get paid to give ‘em.”

“Who’s complimenting you?” you asked, your wince revealing it’d probably come out sharper than you meant for it to.

Gaz didn’t mind, he liked you as jealous as he was. 

He chuckled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Just..other girls with good taste.”

Your pout and sharp head turn went right on display in the mental gallery he had of you. He couldn’t resist teasing you again.

“Are you wearing the one I picked.” he leaned down hovering just over your neck where he knew you could feel the soft puffs of breath on your neck. He heard your breath hitch when he hummed, confirming that you were.

“I am, and don’t worry about who’s complimenting it, since you have sooo many of your own.”

Gaz laughed as you yanked him after you with a huff. If he was delusional, you weren’t helping.

This visit was going how he imagined it, and he intended to end it exactly that way too. Finally getting that bastard out of a picture he should’ve never been a part of. 

When clubbing, Kyle kept you close. You both loved to dance, and every song that came on seemed out to prove that your bodies were built to fit together like a puzzle.

He took an interest in your life, wanting to see what you got up to when he wasn’t there. You’d resisted, thinking it’d bore him. It did not.

 He enjoyed meeting your co-workers, and eating at the cafe you loved a block from your job. You even took him to spend an afternoon with your family. Every time he scored a point with them, you gave him this dreamy expression he was determined to see for the rest of his life.

When he suggested making plans with your friends, so they didn’t feel like you were ignoring them while he was there, you were thrilled at how considerate he was, and he got the pleasure of overhearing you hype him up to your friends while you invited them out to do something.

It was you blocking your girlfriends every time one of them tried to push the flirtation with him too far, that let him know it was time.

He decided he would make his move when the two of you were having a movie night at your place. It wasn’t ideal, because that piece of shit was lingering around the place. Kyle hated that you lived together, but wouldn’t let that interfere. He had work to do.

“Kyyyleee.” you giggled, dragging his name out the way he loved when he ran a finger down your cheek to your neck, complimenting your skin.

“Just admiring your skin routine. You’ve gotta share.”

Or, when he shivered, and you instinctively extended your blanket to him. He took it without question, trying not to think about all of the things you could do under a shared blanket. Although, your boyfriend walking in and out of the room, pretending he had things to get out of the kitchen, made the thought more enticing.

You’d invited him to watch in earnest, and he’d just cut you down in a way that made Kyle quickly remind him he was in your apartment, because he’d lost his job, and had nowhere else to go. That you’d sweetly taken him in, and that he should remember that.

He enjoyed kicking him down while raising you up.

Your boyfriend finally just sat at the kitchen table in the dark, fuming. The living room was visible to him from there, but Kyle was glad to have him as an audience to him reminding you of your worth.

You two exchanged snacks and commentary, easily ignoring the unwanted third party.

“No offense love, but beer here is straight piss.”

You laughed, stealing one of the cookies left on his plate. “Beer tastes like that in general.”

“How would you know? You’ve never been anywhere.” your boyfriend snapped at you nastily, from where he’d been glaring at the two of you for an hour. “And why don't you go back to jolly old England if you hate it so much?”

Gaz lazily rolled his head in his direction, body language shouting how much he didn’t respect him. “Mate, you’re being a right prick right now. It’s not like you bought the beer, or anything else you’ve been shoving in that hole.”

Your boyfriend leapt to his feet, fast enough to knock over the chair. “Come over here and repeat that teacup.”

“Blud, that’s not what you want.”

“Kyle don’t, he’s just drunk and embarrassed. Ignore him when he’s like this.” you quickly passed a hand over the back of his, but he just gave you a soft smile instead. 

“That’s his problem, he embarrassed himself. Why don’t you go in the back and find something to do.” He was so effortlessly dismissive, that your boyfriend mistook this for being unprepared to fight.

Kyle’s one rule for his plan was that he wouldn’t physically handle your boyfriend unless he got physical with you. He’d planned to show you how you should be loved, and let a smart girl like you do the rest. That went out the window.

He kept it clean, the other man was stocky, but didn’t stand a chance against his training. If you hadn’t been there, he might’ve taken it further, grinding his hatred of him into harsher blows. Instead, he gave him quick, almost surgically effective, blows to put him down. He was too intoxicated and unskilled to retaliate. 

“See, he just needed a nap.” Gaz tried to lighten the mood.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered. “I don’t know why he’s always like this now. He didn’t use to be. I just want this to stop.”

Kyle shushed you, crossing the room to pull you into his arms. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’ve been dealing with this for too long.”

“I’m so tired.” you admitted, clutching his soft shirt, and inhaling his scent (your scent, that you gave him) that made your eyes roll back in your head. He was so solid, warm, and a darker word popped into your mind, ‘mine.’

“You’ve been so good to everyone, too good. Let me take care of you.” he whispered, hands roaming from your lower back to cup your ass.

He heard the hybrid of a whimper-moan, and it had him at attention before you were done.

“I’d be just like him…” you trailed off weakly.

“That’s not possible.” He lowered his lips to yours, giving you the first kiss from him that couldn’t possibly be mistaken as platonic. You kissed back without any hesitation, not even willing to pull away when he started to lead you to the back. To your room.

Hate him as he did, Gaz noted somewhere in his mind how dark the scenario was. The location, and situation, in which he was about to fulfill the second-to-last step of his plan was kind of fucked.

He cupped your jaw in both hands,“Babe…we can go back to my room at the hotel.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to erase any trace of him here, starting in your room. He wanted you everywhere he could have you in the apartment, and he wanted him to come to just enough to hear it.

“Makes no sense. Too far. Here.” you murmured, pupils blown wide. 

Gaz didn’t need to be told twice. You were barely able to string a sentence together, and it was top three one of the hottest things he’d ever heard.

“Yes ma'am.” 

Kyle didn’t doubt you’d complete the final step in the morning, and officially dump the forgotten man on the floor.

Johnny:

You and Johnny met through social media. He thought you were gorgeous and, being John “Soap” MacTavish, couldn’t leave your profile without letting you know. Though he threw in some playful critique.

You responded with a thanks, and a challenge for him to do the picture better. It resulted in a months-long photo battle that quickly became a real friendship.

Late phone calls, video calls, and constant strings of texting built a whole world between the two of you. 

You were the highlight of his day sometimes, especially when he’d been gone awhile. You helped him reconnect with the world after shutting it out to defend it.

The only problem was your boyfriend. Johnny prided himself on being able to get along with all kinds of people. It was just in his nature. Hate was so rarely felt by him, that he always had trouble identifying it when he felt it. 

He felt hate for your boyfriend, and it didn’t take him long to figure that out. He thought he didn’t deserve you. He was always talking to you reckless, like he didn’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in his life. Johnny wouldn’t talk to you like that, he wouldn’t have time to even consider it for all the worshiping of you he’d be doing. 

He’d cheated, only to make you feel like that was on you, and you took him back. 

When Johnny heard your pained sobs for the first time, he’d been halfway through texting Simon to ask for help with a dark favor before he was able to talk himself down.

It was then Johnny realized how much you’d come to mean to him, and that only made him hate your boyfriend more.

Your conversations ranged from anything to everything, but they always ended with you venting, and Johnny comforting. He didn’t mind it, in fact, most times he initiated it.

He realized, he must mean a good deal to you too, because you got all your comfort from him. Johnny’s thoughts mattered to you, and you sought his advice all the time. He hated what for, but he loved that you did.

“He didn’t even like the dress Johnny. I told him you thought of it, and he accused me of wanting to wear it for you.” your screen shook violently as you stomped into your bedroom, sending said garment sailing through the air.

“M’sorry to hear that. I meant what I said when you showed it to me in the shop. Any guy that doesn’t lose it to you in that dress deserves to be committed.”

You sniffed, choking out a humorless chuckle. “I’m glad you liked it at least.”

“Oh, you don’t ken how much sweetheart. In fact, put it on for me again.”

Six months into the friendship, he convinced you to come visit him in Scotland. You’d been having more trouble with your boyfriend than usual, living with him didn’t exactly give you a lot of places to take a breather.

Once Johnny confirmed he hadn’t hurt you physically, he’d switched to coaxing you into coming to see him for a couple of weeks.

“C’mon bonnie, I’ve been stateside more times than I can count. You haven’t been here once.” He watched you do your bedtime routine, as the sun came up in the windows behind him.

He loved how despite being countries away, the moment felt as intimate as if you were with him. In his home, getting ready to come to bed with him. Except if you were, he’d tell you not to bother brushing your hair. You’d just have to do it again later.

You laughed as you ran a comb through your hair. “It’s not like you came here for me Johnny. We didn’t even know each other the last time you were here.”

“So…you’ll return the favor later. Be my pretty tour guide.”

You wound up in Scotland barely a week later. A suitcase full of clothes haphazardly thrown into it.

“I don’t even know what I packed, it's a mess!” 

Cue Johnny, who can’t quit hugging you, and they feel less and less platonic. “Don’t worry ‘bout it bon. I’ll find somewhere for it all to go.”

Somewhere turns out to be designated drawers and shelves, that he’d cleared in advance, for your clothes and bath products. Johnny putting them away himself like the simp for you he is. All the while distracting you from stating how you wouldn’t be there long, and you don’t need all that space. 

“We’ll see.”

Johnny had been coaxing less and less innocent behaviors out of you all week, and just worshiping you when he wasn’t. You were a worked up hybrid of desperation, and restored self-confidence. It was addictive, and you started to lean into Johnny’s touches and kisses. You pretended you didn’t hear his murmured dirty statements so he’d have to try again and again.

It came to a head when you finally accepted a video call from your pathetic boyfriend. 

You were in Johnny’s living room, wearing his favorite football jersey, with him behind you, absolutely refusing to make himself scarce. You didn’t want to take the call anyway, but Johnny convinced you it’d be good for closure.

Your boyfriend started going off, yelling about how you didn’t respect him or your relationship, and demanding that ‘you bring your ass home’.

“The thing of it is lad, there’s not really anything about this relationship to respect.” Johnny slipped around to your side, tilting your head up to press his lips to yours. 

You hummed in surprise, but all of his gentle touches and sweet kisses over the week had you pliant. You immediately responded, squeezing his arm when he slipped his tongue into your mouth as a tease.

He pulled away, looking way too smug, and looking all the more impossibly-handsome for it. “Say bye to your ex-boyfriend then bon. The rest of this isn’t for him.”

You gurgled something like goodbye as you slammed the lid on your laptop, attention still fully on Johnny.

John Price:

Price thought your fiance should crawl in a fire and stay there. Yeah. He wasn’t ashamed.

The man was garbage, and hardly worth you giving him a glance, let alone this much sacrifice. You’d moved countries for him, happy to make your home with him because of his job. He treated it as though that should’ve been a given.

That’s how Price had gotten to know you. You lived in the apartment across the hall from him, and the first moment you smiled at him, John was a goner.

You introduced yourself with a smile, your pretty little hand extended out towards him. He’d stood there, wishing he hadn’t worn his ratty sweatshirt with his old football team logo in fading letters. You looked gorgeous, hair framing your face, slightly out of breath from lugging in your things.

He’d stumbled in his mind until he finally remembered proper social protocol. “Price…Captain John.” He cleared his throat. “Captain John Price.”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’, you were visibly intrigued.“Captain? You’re in the military.”

“Yes.” 

“Well…thank you for your service.” 

Normally, John didn’t react to that line as expected. He’d heard it enough times to wish he had a pound for every time, but that was about it. He didn’t do his job for thanks, and sometimes felt they shouldn’t be for him anyways.

Coming from you however, it was different. He had the reaction he knew most people wanted. He knew from the heat in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, they were red.

Your fiancé, who’d appeared in the doorway behind you, stole his chance to answer.

“Yeah, thanks or whatever. (Y/N), come in here and figure out where you want your hair crap to go. I’m just going to toss it anywhere in a moment.”

“Oh, you could’ve just put it under the sink.” 

“You should be getting ready anyways, we have a dinner engagement.” He adjusted his shirt cuffs, eyeing John like he was picturing ways he could kill him.

John wanted to see him try just one.

“Bye John,” you gave a wave, a soft smile on your lips. “I’ll see you.”

You disappeared inside, leaving the two men in a stare down. There was a silent conversation at play, what your fiancé wanted to say was stated without a word. How much John cared about that was conveyed in the same manner.

Your fiancé broke first, slamming the door behind him. 

“We’ll see if I’ll stay away.” He muttered, going into his own place.

Over that first month, you two got to know each other well. Your fiance was often at work, and you turned to John with your questions as you tried to settle into your new home. You had no one else there, and even though John had planned to decompress in complete isolation, he couldn’t do that to you. Didn’t have a part of his being that wanted to. 

However, as John got to know you, he got to know your fiance too. Enough to know if he was ever going to murder someone outside of work, it’d be him.

It started with small things like what takeout you should go for, or which grocery store did he use? It seemed your fiance was useless.

One day, you needed help putting together your beauty table. You’d come to John, clearly embarrassed, and something told him you’d debated on asking him for a while. Your fiance refused, because you hadn’t paid attention when you were checking out, and didn’t select the construction help option.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me love. You mean to tell me that he never made a mistake?” John was already coming out of his apartment, ready to help.

“It’s stupid, but I don’t feel like arguing with him over it. We’re in an ok place right now.” you laughed awkwardly, leading him inside.

“Ok probably isn’t a place you want to be when you’re headed for the church.” it came out of his mouth before he could think about how it wasn’t his place.

He was so used to being blunt, and dealing out cold, hard facts or opinions. It always took him a minute to readjust to what was appropriate, but by then he was back on duty.

You looked stunned, clearly not expecting that from him. Your arms crossed defensively, giving him a side glance while you mulled over responding. 

He meant what he said, but he never would’ve delivered it to you that way, or at all, if he had thought two seconds more.

“‘M sorry. It’s really not my place is it?” he gestured to the back of the apartment. “Where do you need me?”

There were many more opportunities to spend time with you, and with them, opportunities to point out the toxicity he was seeing. It wasn’t in John’s nature to ignore obvious problems, he got paid to do the opposite. He had to resign himself every time so he didn’t upset you.

With every time he gave you directions, or answered a local cultural difference that confused you, you two lingered in each other’s presence a little longer. He wasn’t going to spoil that. 

Your requests started to leave the territory of furniture building and directions, and started to cross more into trying a new recipe, and how you could do better at fitting into your new home. Your conversations started to get deeper, more information about each other being shared.

There were times where you dropped off food, having made too much, or your fiance didn’t want what you cooked. John loved your cooking as it was, he normally lived off whatever he could grab and nuke, but he threw in extra enthusiasm for spite and your pretty smile. 

Sometimes John found reasons to come over to your place. 

“Share a cake love? Don’t get excited, I picked it up at the shops.” “Just bringing back your bowl.” “I can take a look at that window if maintenance is still laying about.”

And without fail, you made him stay every time. You got lonely, and you still knew very few people in the area outside of him. Your fiance didn’t seem to care, he felt he’d set you up with plenty of friends in his circle. John called them posh knobheads, and you couldn’t agree more. You had nothing in common with them, and you always wound up back with John to vent.

He found it easier to talk to you than he had anybody else, and from the never ending conversation between you two, he guessed you felt the same. The topic of the nature of your relationship was verboten, but that was fine by him. By that point, he was more interested in making you forget you even had a fiance. He really hadn’t even made an effort to do it, it just tilted that way, and he leaned into it.

You weren’t exactly stopping his flirtatious comments, in fact, you seemed to light up in ways he hadn’t seen until then.

Then came the outings. As your fiance got more negligent, you got bolder. It started with you taking a chance to invite John to a movie when you two bumped into each other in the mailroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the cinema, and he couldn’t say what was playing if someone held a gun to his head, but ‘don’t see why not’ fell out of his mouth with no resistance.

Then it was shopping together, or you dragging him to a museum and him bullshitting his art knowledge to make you laugh. He didn’t normally spend his time off being this active socially. He decompressed, and prepared for the next assignment. Maybe he’d meet a woman at a pub and bang out some release before getting back into formation.

He’d wondered if he would regret doing things differently on his next deployment, but that stopped the first time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. That alone would’ve been enough for him to keep his delusions (that he definitely did not have) going, but it was the fact that you didn’t correct them. It happened again, and if he thought he imagined things, he hadn’t. You never corrected the person, just gave a coy smile and accepted the compliment.

Well if you didn’t, he certainly wasn’t going to.

The final time that John could say he only found you attractive, instead of wanting you completely, you’d come to him to ask him if he could drive you to a little farmer’s market outside of the city. Things hadn’t been going well with you and your fiance.

You didn’t have to tell John, he could attest to that himself. He’d heard your arguments in his place, and between the noise level, and trying to make sure it didn't go to a place where you weren’t safe, he wasn’t getting much sleep.

Your plan was to cook your fiance a favorite meal from his childhood, using nothing but farm fresh ingredients. You figured that all you needed to get things on track was a quiet night in, focused on reminding each other why you were engaged. John nearly bit through his tongue to keep himself from bringing up the fact that it seemed the workload on maintaining the relationship fell solely on your shoulders.

Instead, he shoved his bucket hat on his head, and lied about needing to head out that way anyways.

The car ride started out quiet on his part, with you filling in the conversation. Price may have flexed his fingertips in jealousy more times than he could count, but you were so goddamn beautiful when you were excited. It almost hurt to look at you head on, so he gave you side glances to show he was listening.

At the market, your excitement didn’t die down. In fact, it turned into infectious playfulness. You two teased each other, engaged in playful scams to get more samples, and dared each other to come up with crazier and crazier stories about yourselves for the owner of each stall you visited.

Price would die twice before he admitted that he imagined you were on a date a couple times during the day. You never brought your fiance up, and he had to remind you to check your grocery list more than once.

It was late afternoon when you returned to the car, laden with goodies and constructing inside jokes. John was enjoying his time with you so much, he almost forgot he had to tell you he was shipping out the following week. He didn’t know if you’d care so much as to need an announcement in advance, but he felt he should.

 He was worried about you, and he would think of you wherever he was bound to wind up, hoping you’d come to your senses and leave the garbage behind. Of course, he’d miss you…and he certainly wasn’t under any delusion that when you’d taken out the trash, maybe you’d consider him.

“Why’re you so quiet?” you’d squeezed his bicep to get his attention, and he instinctively pushed his arm into your hands, encouraging the touch.

It was quiet for a moment, before you slowly uncurled your fingertips, and placed your hands in your lap. His face flooded with embarrassed warmth. 

Had he gone too far by leaning into the physical?

Price white-knuckle-gripped the steering wheel, swallowing down what he thought was a rejection he had no right to be hurt about, and cleared his throat. “Right. I’m heading out next week, and it won’t be short. Just thought you should know.”

Whatever reaction he expected from you, it wasn’t the one you gave.

“What?” You placed a hand on your chest, and then rolled your eyes. “Well that’s great.”

John gave you a bewildered expression, and it must've shown, because you quickly straightened up and faced forward. 

“I don’t know about great, but it is my job. The one I was quite clear about when we first met.”

“Pull over.” you said so quickly, he wasn’t even sure you’d heard his response.

“What? Why? Are you feeling il-”

“No..just..please.” you gestured to the side of the road.

He obliged, brows drawn tight and carrying all of his questions. “Your boy is going to be home soon, and we still have a bit of a drive ahead of us. What-”

“I wanted to come here because of you.” you breathed out, still facing forward, your posture almost impossibly rigid.

“Me? You’re not making much sense (Y/N).” 

You huffed, and when you turned to him, your expression took his breath away. In that moment he could read every thought you were thinking, and it would’ve bowled him over if he wasn’t sitting.

He felt electricity beneath his skin, the feeling he got any time he was about to do something drastic and dangerous.

It was the little hidden thing in your eyes that he couldn’t place that gave him pause.

“I came here, because I wanted to get away with you for today. I needed to.” you turned your whole body to him. “I don’t give a fuck about fresh ingredients for him, he probably won’t eat it anyways.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “We agreed to start over. And I’m going to try, I really am, but…I still can’t stop feeling need.”

In the looming silence, all John could do was scratch his beard, and try not to look as stupid as he was sure he did. He knew what you were saying, what you were toeing at, but surely you were just venting. You couldn’t-

“S’not right love.” Now it was his turn to look ahead. “Not for him, fuck him. For you. You’re upset and you’re scared, and you're raw.”

“And I need this.” you breathed. “If you’re trying to protect me, stop. If you don’t want me in that way..ok, I’m a big gi-”

“Oooh,” his voice came from deep in his chest, baritone thrumming through the car. “That’s not it. I promise you, that’s.not.it.”

Your fingertips gently pulled his face in your direction. “You’re leaving me…and when you get back things are going to have to be different.”

There it was. John swallowed, hard. 

“I’m being selfish, but..I thought I’d have a little more time with you before..” Your eyes watered. “It’d be one thing if you really were just my friend, but that’s not right is it?”

John wiped at your eyes with his thumb before cupping his cheek in his hand. “No, it’s not.”

“Just one time.”

It was a struggle to say no to you, and that didn’t stop now. He pulled your mouth to his, hands gripping your shoulders in a subconscious effort to prove this was happening. You were in front of him, kissing him back as hard as he was kissing you.

He unbuckled you, and pulled you into his lap, sliding the seat back. 

“I’m gonna miss you.” you were crying now, and neither one of you did anything about the tears.

His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. “Oh, sweet girl. Why didn’t you meet me sooner?”

What transpired after was the most bittersweet moment he could recall. He had heartbreaks and troubled relationships before, but he’d never had to have a breakup with a woman he wasn’t sure he’d been seeing in the first place, but knew that he loved.

He took you twice in his car, before finally, the two of you could no longer ignore the setting sun and had to return home.

John remembered why he preferred to take a girl somewhere quickly, and then spend the rest of his leave in solitude, occasionally seeing a trusted friend. It wasn’t as fulfilling as what he had with you, but it didn’t hurt this deeply either.

He sat in his apartment for hours after he watched you disappear into your own. He didn’t even bother turning on a light when it got too dark, he just sat there, continuing to contemplate how things had gotten to be such a mess. How could he continue to pride himself on being the logical leader he thought he was, when he’d made such a mess of himself so quickly?

How was he supposed to forget you? How was he supposed to forget that he loved you, and that you loved him with another man’s ring on your finger?

The thought of seeing you, carrying your fiance’s child, and looking miserable during what should’ve been one of the happiest times of your life made Price leap from the couch. That familiar electricity raising every hair on his person to a point.

He didn’t know what he was doing, or what he was going to say, but he was moving like he’d planned it for months.

When he stepped into the hall, he paused.

You were sitting on the plush hall couch, eyes puffy, with a death grip on a pyrex dish. Your hair was perfectly styled, and you were wearing a low-cut silken dress that made him want to fall to his knees now that he knew what lay beneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, trying to curb your sniffles.

“I was right, he wouldn’t eat it. He got mad and left.”

“You should’ve made him wear it instead.” John’s fist clenched at his side, itching to do what he wanted from the moment he first saw him get short with you.

You shook your head, rising to your feet. “I don’t blame him this time. I didn’t make it for him, anymore than I shopped for it with him in mind, and I told him so.”

You held up the dish, and John saw it was his favorite. His idea of a perfect Sunday roast in one pot. Your meaning was clear.

“I just kept thinking, it shouldn’t be this hard. I mean, it shouldn’t be, right?” you stepped forward.

“No, it shouldn’t be.” He also took a step forward.

“It’s not that way with you.” Another step.

“I would hope not.” he also took another step

You stopped when all that separated the two of you was the dish.

“So this belongs to me then?” he was staring at the dish, but his hands gently grasped your wrists.

You, however, were looking directly at him when you breathed out. “Yes.”

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @stevesbipanic! They have fourteen works under the Stranger Things tag and thirteen of those works are under the Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson tag over on Archive of our Own!!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following of their works by stevesbipanic:

Stevie's Time Loop

Home For Christmas

Remember Me

The Clothes That Make Us

Boy for All Seasons

She's an amazing writer that's able to make you feel connected to the characters, especially Steve. She's able to make me both cry and laugh in the same fic which is a feat to do well. She's also an amazing friend. Stevie's Time Loop is one of my favourite as it's a really unique way of writing a timeloop with large time jumps and most loops focusing on Steve and his trauma rather than finding a solution. - anonymous

Below the cut, @stevesbipanic answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Steddie was the first ship that ever drove me to write fanfiction. I think the fact that I see myself a lot in both of them, especially Steve makes them so enjoyable to write for me. I think they’re also such moldable characters that you can write them into a lot of different stories quite easily and I love exploring their personalities and dynamics.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Soulmate AUs because I’m a sucker for true love.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Angst with a happy ending, I love making both these boys and my readers cry but also want them to be happy and in love in the end.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is such a hard question, there are so many talented writers and amazing fics, but if I had to choose one I’d have to say “The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting” by badpancake, it was one of the first time loop fics I read and really inspired my own time loop fic.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’d love to explore a fantasy AU in the future, I know many talented authors writing dragon!eddie and King Steve or knight and bard steddie and it is one of my favourite genres of fics that are outside of Hawkins.

What is your writing process like?

A mess, most of my works on Tumblr are spur of the moment ideas that will come to me and I immediately need to write them down. It’s actually the longer slower projects that are hardest for me since they require a lot more planning and editing, I really admire the authors consistently putting out those big fics.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I’d say my most noticeable one is how I write dialogue, I really don’t like writing steve said eddie said etc etc. I usually write each thing said on it’s own line and it’s clear who’s speaking by what they say or how they say it, I think it breaks up the story nicely too since you feel you’re seeing the conversation rather than reading it.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

As soon as I finish writing I want people to see it, I kinda hate sometimes when I’m doing a project and have to wait for a specific time to post but the anticipation can be fun too.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Honestly, I’m most proud of my latest fic “Home for Christmas” it was the first time I’d ever participated in a bang and the project felt huge, it felt like a big achievement getting it all out in the end and it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written as a bonus.

How did you get the idea for Remember Me?

I think I’d been reading a fic where Steve got a concussion and had a bit of temporary memory loss and I just thought what if all those concussions had long lasting effects on Steve’s brain when he grew older. I’ve also experienced a love one going through long term memory loss and how hard it is to watch that.

When writing Stevie's Time Loop, what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn’t expect it to become a whole fic! It started off as one little off hand drabble I wrote that alluded to a lot of loops surrounding the scene of Steve and Robin discussing how Robin had a bad feeling about this and just thought well what if this is like time loop deja vu.

What inspired The Clothes That Make Us?

Exploring why Steve dresses how he does and how he likes the things he does and how there’s an emotional reason behind some of the fans favourite outfits was something I wanted to explore more and this was my very first fic I wrote for ao3 so it was a bit daunting but also very exciting.

What was your favorite part to write from Boy for All Seasons?

My favourite part was definitely thinking of all the silly costumes Eddie would come up with as well as flirty Steve is so fun to write.

How do/did you feel writing The Clothes That Make Us?

I felt nervous since it was the first fic I ever wrote but excited since I felt really proud writing something that long and the feedback I got was so heartwarming.

What was the most difficult part of writing Remember Me?

Omg just getting to the end without crying so hard, after I posted it so many people messaged me about how they cried through it, just know I was writing that through tears too!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

"Thank you for giving me a life worth remembering.” in “Remember Me” makes me want to cry everytime and really shows what we want for our favourite characters is to have a happy life however long they get.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’ll be posting my fic in the upcoming Reverse Bang in March which is exciting and I’ve got a secret project coming up later this year that people can follow @steddielycrying.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I’d just like to thank everyone who’s supported me through writing, whether it be a random comment on a fic or my lovely mutuals that get me through hard days, this has been an amazing fandom to be apart of and I can’t wait to write more!

Thank you to our author, @stevesbipanic , and our nominator! See more of @stevesbipanic's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[scoops404]

Writing a Scoops Fic

With Scoops. Featuring: Scoops.

This will get long, so it's under the cut. And it will contain spoilers for the fic, which kinda seem obvious, but alas.

Lol okay, when an initial idea hits me, I usually send it out into the universe to see if it's a good idea (sometimes in private DMs and sometimes I'll tweet it). This idea struck me yesterday when I was watching my niece and nephew and my dad off-handedly mentioned the show "I didn't know I was pregnant" (i'm staying with my parents while my apartment is being renovated and I'm slowly dying)

Here's the idea:

I tweeted this idea out to my private twitter at 5:22pm yesterday and then all my friends slowly exploded. The more I think about it, the more i think Mario anon might have done something similar (they've covered pretty much all the mpreg tropes but are usually sfw and established relationship). So, to make this idea my own, it'll be nsfw (hi, hello, it's me. And that's like the super fun part about writing this idea) and not established relationship - friends with benefits immediately makes this situation even more complicated. I'm in.

There's no time or energy to write last night so I stewed on the idea and when I got to work this morning I made myself focus on my novel writing (that should be the priority but im currently stuck). And wrote some then. But for on my lunch break, I thought, why not? Let's see what comes out. I talked with my friends at work for like thirty minutes and then wrote 828 words. I'm going to share all of those words with you at the end. This is very vulnerable for me because I'm purposefully not going to clean them up or edit, just show you what I've raw dogged. ((to be fair, though, i think the opening line is like banging))

Then, on my drive home, I thought about it more and more and most of the plot materialized in my head. As of now, I can picture two scenes really clearly, and that's enough to build a long fic or even a long one shot out of. (I also did this with There's Hope Out the Window)

The first scene is the one you're about to read. The second scene is George waking up in the hospital with Dream next to him, calmly explaining he had to have emergency surgery, and their baby is too little and might not make it. Lots of Drama. The idea of one of those fireplace blowy things that looks like an accordion came to me and George feeling like someone used one of those and blew love into him until he was sick with it -- that's how much he immediately loves his baby. It's a boy. He has to stay in NICU for weeks and the drama will unfold from there.

[nwarrior777]

Hello! I wanted to say that I have been in love with your art for some years now and kinda think of you as a teacher when it comes to self-love and drawing/generally showing fat people in media! So I'm seeking your advice on this topic if that doesn't bother you... (tw fatphobia from people)

There is one fandom character who I love and accociate myself with a bit, so I really want to draw them fat, but most of the people think it's "not logical" for him to be fat, and all of the fanart of him are thin (despite the original book never stating this). And this fandom already has another character for who it's more "logical" to be fat but I want that specific one because he is so dear to me. I also want to cosplay this character but people told me I'm "too fat" to do it :( So I want to hear your opinion about this because it's very important to me!

Oh hello!

Big honor to hear such a thing about teacher! And very big letter, oh! Always happy to get it. But it is big responsibility to answer on that!

And oh i wrote a whole poem so i put it under the cut.

So first thing first, very important thing i want to say (it's like, in general) - please don't idolize me and don't put on pedestal.

Don't treat me like biggest authority - but like a soldier next to you in battle. It needed, for if you for some reason will find me not pleasant as a person, my words which describes my, very not individual, believes, would not be sticked to me as individual in your mind. Believes (about we need to strive to world of care, comfort and kindness in all aspects of life) which i belong to is much more than me. And i am just a human. Who can do mistakes, who can have opinions which you like next to some you disagree. I am sorry for being too poetic (i just went off from writing poem session) but i love line from Aurora song "you can give up on me, [but] never give up on Love", yeah, this line describes that i am trying to say perfectly. I hope you got the idea.

To the point!

So, of course i want to say that, "logical" fat character is an outdated thing of mindset, of course i am all in and routing for you in this desire to draw and cosplay character you like as fat. I mean? For people passing by not knowing context - i am the guy who draws fat only characters for near a decade. In any scenario and plot, in my drawings they are all fat (well in 0.00000000001% character on my art is skinny. and it's usually someone near fat character). It's like i am a little reversed tv - any type of shows but all characters are fat. Why? - because in big tv (mass media) there is * no * fat characters. Ok, they are sometimes are but it's 0.00000000001% chance and you all know how creators treat them. And i choosed it as my art goal to shift the balance and bring people art where they recognize themselves, drawn in a gorgeous way, and feel happy.

But here is the thing: experience and surroundings of each is different. I can't just shout "yeah, go go show your pride don't be scared and shy!" to someone who surrounded by things which take this someone caged, and someone who still breaking cages in their mind. So it is a little complicated. I am all in, i think your drawings of this character is gorgeous and your cosplay is gorgeous and you are gorgeous (i didn't see you or your art, but i don't need it to say this). But i can't guarantee that others reaction will be positive-only (considering someone already being rude about cosplay) But i have thought on this too

If to look on my experience, as something that can be. Shared, I can share a bit of my "secrets" of being so free. at least by mind and art.

First - i have very specific mindset which i worked very hard very long time. I have my main values and everything in my life i judge by this. The core of this is thought, ( VERY simplified version. i am rotating this since my idk, 16, i am 27, it * is * more complicated than that) - "does it hurt anyone? no? good. other things are bad".

That guy wears dress. Anyone hurt? No. Good then

That guy is gay. Anyone would be hurt by their wedding? No. Good.

Painting of a flower which drawn """ugly""" or """ unskillfull""" by a person who hold pen first time? Give it to me it will be on my wall, it's cool drawing

millions money wasted on expedition to take away real iceberg getting it on town square only for it to melt to say "hey it was performance about climate change. did you know icebergs are melting?" - bad bad bad i would slap that dude in the face. i mean melting iceberg to say about problem of melting icebergs? could you just make an ice sculpture from dirty water in a shape of a globe or smth, pretentious fuсker-

So yes. I have strong moral core in mindset. I went through big journey of self body acception and now i am in full love of my body. I deep dived into disability side of insta blogers, and never honestly been on conservative beauty blogers side of internet. i see so much different people now, it completely vanished my if existed, fear, in terms of looks (i mean some experiences can be struggling and painfull which a bit of hard to deal with in my life context, but, we are about appearance here) - burns, amputations, whatever, all people beautifull for me no matter how they look. Including me.

Also i was very soon went into friendly (queer mostly) places, and my friends are kind people. I was growing in era of bodypositive getting popularity and people got on two sides - i went into bodypositive one and mostly i was around people who would never used "fat" as assoult.

But there was negative. Comments, someone even could write me in DM. Sometimes, at first i think i even cried, but then i remember some comments and one dm which i just laugh at. My friends were supporting me, and, the artist which was sort of first in my place in my location, who got even more hate, was on same side so i just. I don't know why i kept going. But i know why i still do - i wrote above

So it leads me to the point where i am: I am super confident in that i do. I know it is right thing - for me one smile, one "omg i never seen myself in art and this is literally me" is bigger than all hate i can get. I know that representative art do not harm but spread Love and comfort, and hateful comments hurt, so i know who is right here. I am confident about my body - i know that i can't cause harm by the way i look, rude comments - can, so i am again know exactly who is right. I don't pay attention for haters - people who lives driven by hate are so behind, that i just don't notice their echoes. Because i am too busy living in the world of Love, being with people who i like, complimenting each other and creating beautifull things of Care with people who do the same.

Also i have last secret: my skill. I don't believe in skill in art as quality concept, i love everything and honestly i love """ unskilled"""" art more with special warmth Love. But i am drawing my entire life and i have my techniques, which somehow lead me to that situation that my drawings could be seen in some concept art artbooks. But i refuse to give my power for industries and choose to give it to representative art and i Love it. But here comes the funny situation with this:

that awfull drama hater blogers, who takes """ unskillfull""" art of people without asking and laugh on it, who laughs on artist who make character headcanons like, disabled, or fat, or that respectfull redisign thing. That haters specifically take """"""""" bad""""""" art for their videos. Because in their values if art is skillfully drawn - it is cool art, and they judge only by that often. It is values which are in their core, conservative and not reflected, so with that it's also slapping with them not understanding importance of joy of experiment and being open to new in art. They don't see other parts of thing, they don't see context, they see only visuals and how good it at working with rules they were taught.

For these haters, a drawing of fat fav character made by man with affected motoric skills is a cause for big laughs. And a character number 1000076864578 made on base of one slim model with same female face, rendered in semi realism on promo of new (same and old) sucking money game is a masterpiece. For me it's totally opposite.

I even have a theory on why i am still not in one of these drama video. (well, part of) is that i have "pro" skill. What can they laugh on in my art? How they will say it? How they will laugh on art which is, by pro standard, better than theirs (i describing their believes, i don't judge art by visual, only by my moral system described above) "Their characters are fat!!!!" . So? "They change characters!!!" - and? I lied, i have another secret - characters for me are instrument. "I love to play with jpegs" - my common phrase.

I don't care about "lore reasons". "but this character did-", no he didn't do anything. he doesn't exist as being capable of thinking. all of his " did " are written actions by creators, and guess who i am (also creator) and guess that i can do (also write actions for jpegs). " but this character is slim-". yeah. in that image. i did another image and he is fat in it. Headcanons and au like playing dolls to me, it's super fun, and people who thinks that d***@#*""sney one model face designs are sacred, are, again, too far behind for hearing their echoes

So, that's my freedom in art and mind: i love my art, my body, i love that i opened in myself power to see beauty in every people appearance, my power to see beauty in others art and joy of playing with art. But it's me, with my context.

I have friendly surroundings, i have support, i have friends and audience, i am (kind of? in the niche, i guess) popular, i am confident in myself, i am confident in my art and my core values. I am near decade doing such art - it's contradicting mass media, but i found my support boubble, and this is my everyday life and norm to me now. And i am I totally understand that it can be scary to do something contradicting such thing as opinion on fat characters in mass media at first, then you don't have this long path behind shoulders or support, or rude people around. Negative comments can happen and it can be sad

But! I just want you to know that you have so much paths. If you feel shy and not confident - try to show this art with that fat character to friends who you are sure will support you. Or some friendly chat. Chats dedicated to fandoms who treat fat characters well are good choice. Surround yourself with support if you are not confident - someone need to be with you in case some rude people will be against. Cosplay, too - if you shy or not confident i would reccomend to try first with friends - making, photoes or going to convention. Then you feel comfortable in your confidence, you can post. Or you can not post. Or you can draw it in your sketchbook only. Or post in private little blog. Or, by the way - you can post and not tag him to main tittle tag. Even i did like this at first with my fat astarion. Before i understood people love my art of him. It's for your choice. And, it seems like now we have to post everything online on main, we actually don't have to. We can decide what to post or not, and what to keep to ourselves, and then we ready to post if we want. Open your own privacy room inside your chest. Don't feel pressured and post then you feel comfy.

Important thing to the end which i want to say is, that, this is why i make art in this way: for change, for showing that alternative on mass media image of this theme can be and exist. For people see themselves, for people thinking they are beautiful, realistic features are beautifull, to bring that beauty of people and world of Love into art.

For me some artists were first too, before me, in this. And sometimes even i afraid. I have opinions which i see people, who both on my side, are arguing on and i am afraid to bring my word. Because i don't see examples of that my takes in art. I am afraid to do something which will cause more drama than Love. I am too, sometimes afraid to be first or do something new.

So, i can't say to you what to do with your life and that decisions to make. But i can say your art and cosplay will be gorgeous and i don't need to see it to say it, and i will continue to fight my art fight for people like you to feel more comfortable about their bodies and art

❤

[apollotronica]

APOLLO CAN U TELL ME ABOUR ON E OF UR OCS.. i was thinkin about how hearing u talk ab them kinda inspired me to actually pick my projects back up and also i think they r sick as helll :3 pretty pleaase ? ./NF!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

OKAY SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO REPLY I WAS STUCK IN THE LABRYNTH (i couldnt decide which oc to talk about) BUT i relauzed i havent really talkrd about hiiro at all on here :3 EVERYTHING UNDER CUT and ill format it like i formatted the buwan post :3

this hiiro (left image most recent) ignore thr typology on the right its outdated

fun facts :3

likes: warm cloudy weather, bright lights, computers and technology, large cities, classic literature, anatomy and neurology, strong flavors, squid ink pasta

dislikes: most people, sunny days, manual labor, following orders, bland food, going outside, trains and train stations, getting wet

nationality: japanese

relatives: (adoptive) mother and father, elder sister (pacchi, 2 years older), younger sister (heru, 3 years younger)

early life (sort of???) (cw child injury/neglect, bullying, ableism?)

disclaimer i havent Fully fleshed out its backstory so this will just be a large summary of . stuff that Occured

hiiro and his sisters were put up for adoption almost immediately after heru was born (hiiro being 3, pacchi being 5) and they took turns taking care of her bcuz their parents were too "busy" to hire babysitters. hiiro and pacchi got into a fight while heru (like toddler age atp) tried to break them up. because hiiro has always been quick to anger and sort of physical, when heru tried to intervene his first instinct was to push her as hard as he could while yelling at her to stay out of it, it doesnt involve her . errmm aftermath of that argument was . heru got permenant brain damage and hiiro and pacchis relationship Completely broke apart :[ aww womp womp . Ok fast forward . heru is homeschooled by a tutor and hiiro and pacchi are both in junior high. pacchi is popular and friendly and pretty, but her grades are lacking . hiiro has always been incredibly smart (even though pacchi is 2 years older, he skipped a school year or two and is in her same year), but his social life is miserable . because of his temper and Overall Unfriendliness he was put in separate classes away from his peers where he was the only student under a teacher who didnt care about hiiro or Pretty much anything . it wasnt seen often but when he Was seen he was beat up n bullied relentlessly n followed home , so a lot of the time he spent nights hidden in the school or in damp alleys because he didnt want to lead anyone dangerous back to pacchi and heru . when he Was home pacchi ignored him and heru would try to make conversation but hiiro was Pretty much entirely nonverbal during their school years . at home hiiro drew and wrote and played like anyone else his age but bcuz hiiro looked different and sounded different and acted different it ended up outcast and alienated :[ womp womp

career ??

aaaanyway yada yada hiiro graduates early n basically disappears into researching neurology n brains n Specifically how theyre "programmed" , they end up lowkey kidnapping a couple people to experiment on them w a janky "neuroprogramming" device that, once hes sure is Safe To Use , hiiro uses on itself :3 the way proples brains show up on the device isnt like an mri or anything , the way it shoes up actually Depends on the person so sometimes itll be a short rpg or lines of code or Minesweeper and because hiiro Made the device they can decipher what each brain thing means and collects data based off that . but because what he does is Very illegal the government eventually tracks him down and forces it to work w them or theyll Krill him .

fun facts part Two :3

hiiro has only had alcohol Once and despite being of legal age they were kicked out for looking too young . he cant hold his liquor

he frequents a gaming cafe and knows all the staff by name but is too embarrassed to be seen in front of other people , so it rents out the whole cafe when it wants to go

hiiro has 3 cats and they are all Huge

after he Reappeared hiiro actually reconnected w his sisters and visits them as often as possible . Its not very affectionate at all though

i actually made his voice claim miyashita yuu . the songs where hes louder and yelling r more what i was thinking at the time , but i think miyayuu's soft speaking voice works as well

all the sleeves on their sweaters are slightly tethered and frayed because he fidgets with them while working . the right sleeve is more torn than the left

he doodles in his free time and has posted a couple oneshots on obscure manga forums . they dont keep up with them but one of them ended up getting really popular

hiiro Loves scifi . his entire apartment is decorated in super lame and obscure scifi anime posters and figures

THANKIES !!!

[timeofjuly]

Okay I’ve been scrolling down for a little while now? And?

And I’m starting to think the PTSD flashback Quinn had in chpt. 10 (? I think) is something to do with her dad *almost* drowning MC, at least once.

If I had to guess, he found out between Quinn and MC, and absolutely blew up. He was either going to, or already had hurt Quinn in some way, and MC either was called for help, or walked in on it, and somehow ended with them in a very bad way involving water, and Quinn’s dad with a busted nose. Maybe Quinn hit him with something when MC was getting attacked, MC got a hit in (I don’t think MC started it, since it’s on the record that MC doesn’t do random acts of violence), and took the blame for it ALL.

But I’m also so confused!! Because you also described MC in Quinn’s horror flashback as being wet and ice cold, and looking like they did before they were clean - I’m MISSING SOMETHING, AHHHHH. The gas station ice bags, you mentioned it twice, and I’m drawing a blank as to why that’s so important.

Drugs and ice, what’s the connection? Could it be some kind of memory? Where could Quinn have seen ice bags, and why would it be so important that ice was where it was? Camping? I can only think of organ harvesting, but that seems too far fetched 😪😵‍💫

Can I ask when did MC start using? (Was it related to Quinn’s dad/their trauma surrounding that mystery water incident?)

Most (if I’m remembering correctly,) of Quinn’s trauma has been catholic guilt, daddy issue related. Where was Quinn’s mother in this? Was she involved? Was she behind the scenes, encouraging her husbands violence? Or was she the keeper of peace? What’s her place in all this??

I’d say ‘WHO KNOWS’, but YOU knows. >:( I hope you’re amused, cause I feel deranged.

I hope this doesn’t come off as demanding you to answer my questions 😭 it’s really fun to talk (type?) out my thinking process, I hope it’s somehow beneficial to you too 😂

you don’t have to answer/respond to anything if it’s spoiler-y!

I just read your progress tracking update, and oh my god, the energy to lovers with underfell Grillby? Sounds SO GOOD!!

You wrote so much; and are going to write so much, I hope you’re also taking enough time to do nothing, and take breaks! Good job!! AHHHH!!

I am SCREAMING at ‘WHO KNOWS’, but YOU knows’!!! I was literally thinking the other day how funny it is that I’m the only one who knows wtf is going on lol. This is too much power and responsibility for me!!!

Okay okay so I'll answer things sorta vaguely, if you want anything clarified more and aren't afraid of broaching closer to the spoiler territory feel free to dm me and I will straight up tell you anything lol, I am terrible at keeping secrets and I will also pop the below under a cut cause it's kinda long -

Re: the flashback, I'll note that Quinn doesn't make any connection between the wet, frostbitten, fucked-up MC, except that they look like they did when they were still using. Quinn, just like the reader, also doesn't know why MC appeared to her like that. It is disturbing and confusing, but she doesn't relate it to any event or experience with MC. Same with the ice bags - she doesn't have anything to connect it with, so she doesn't. Because we're working through the lens of Quinn in that scene, there's a whollllllle lot of context missing.

As a hint, though: the Quinn's dad incident and whatever the fuck is going on with the frostbite and ice and water are completely separate things.

MC's drug use started when they were thirteen and doesn't relate to Quinn. I do like your line of thinking though! I also like your thinking about organ harvesting lol, that would've been a very different turn to what I'm planning!

Quinn's mother was complicit in a lot of Quinn's childhood. I've kinda gotten into it, but the Lawsons are deeply, deeply religious, super fundamentalist. Many fundamentalist Christian families follow a hierarchical structure of the family, where the husband is the spiritual leader, wives are expected to submit to their husband's authority and support his decisions, and then the kids submit to them both (dad first, though).

And oh my gosh not demanding at all!!! I love answering your questions and you always do help my process! I am so! excited! for the Undefell Grillby fic too, I think it'll be good for me to write something a little lighter and simpler too lol.

I really appreciate your kind words <3 <3 <3 Not to get mushy but I wrote more in 2023 (and only started in July!) than I have in my whole life. RTC came after a three year break from writing and was in a brand-new fandom with a kinda weird concept and I was so so so scared to post that first chapter. I'm so glad that I did, though! I feel like I've really found a little community here.

[oracleofsecrets]

VIOLENCE AND BLOOD AND MAKING EVERYBODY MAD. 1, 19, and 25 >:)

SAE 0W-20. Oh oops. Wrote this in notes app so. Here, have my car’s motor oil flavor

Anyway I think I’ll do ace attorney bc that’s the one I’ve been Most aware of its fandom

1 — character everyone gets wrong

There are several,,, but the ones that peeve me the most are Maya and Franziska

Maya’s often flattened into memester burger queen comedic relief who dispenses Romantic advice to make nrmt happen. It’s such a waste when she’s got So much happening and is pretty damn smart

Similarly, Franziska is sidelined even More and is reduced to Angry Meanie and also a prop to encourage nrmt. I find that the average franziska portrayal is really one-note and is just like “Haha she says fool and whips people” which sucks bc again she has So much unexplored complexity in the games And in fandom that people wouldn’t hesitate to explore if she were a male character instead

And also these tend to combine into really boring franmaya just to make sunshine/grump happen. Or again, they’re off to the side or used only as a vehicle for nrmt development.

Or like… I’ve seen ppl think Maya was head over heels for Franziska from Day One like. No??? Wtf? I think Maya had More Important Things on her mind than like. “Ooh that person prosecuting me is kinda hot👀”

I can’t even elaborate Too much bc I’d be here all day but. Also criminally misportrayed is Phoenix. He is not uwu sunshine bleeding heart heart on his sleeve. And neither is Ryuunosuke.

Ok one more salt. Temenos OctopathTraveler2 wasn’t Madly In Love with Crick. Also he is Not as horny/flirty as many are portraying him as…. He outright said staves don’t need sheaths smh my head

19 — smth I’m mad/ashamed I actually kinda like

My lawyer says I don’t have to answer this question

(jk)

Idk if Shame/anger is the word for it. But I want to study kristoph under a microscope and also purposefully zoom in too far so that he gets crushed when the long magnifier breaks the slide glass

It’s more like… I don’t want to be associated w people who like genuinely think he was just misunderstood 🥺 uwuuu he was in WUV, he had a bad childhood. or the opposite, with ppl who go a lot darker in their interpretation bc that’s just not smth I want to think about

Cuz like. Obviously this guy fucking sucks and I hate him but also he’s sooooo pathetic that it’s funny

And also I think it’s interesting to think about like, what being friends (or “friends”) with someone like that for Seven Years does to Phoenix. Bc I lov putting that man through the wringer ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

25 — common fandom complaint sick of hearing

Any apologism and vehement defense of shitty male characters lol

Godot’s shitty condescending misogynistic remark at franziska wasn’t a mistranslation. He calls her a shrew/unruly woman, basically says “that’s enough princess, it’s adult time” (notably using “-Chan”, where Phoenix calls her Von Karma Kenji [“prosecutor von karma”]). This line was translated to “But you can go now, princess. It's time for the big boys to take the reins.” So like…. Where’s the misinterpretation 🤨

And also he says “I don’t like talkative women”. There might be more nuance there that google translate can’t capture but like. That’s Still a sexist thing to say.

Just admit ur horny for godot and don’t care about women

Mvk doesn’t have lead poisoning; he’s an emotionally abusive parent and shitty person. Like u don’t even have to squint at the games to come to that conclusion. Kin memories and brainless analysis won’t disprove that. Sometimes abusers can even do nice things or genuinely love someone, but that doesn’t mean they’re not abusive

Barok van Zieks doesn’t have a Redemption arc from his Constant Indefensible Racism. You clowns are just horny and have bad taste.

[returnsandreturns]

okay, i wrote 1000 words at work in one or two sprints because it's dead and i have nobody here to hold me accountable

trigger warning for like....i don't know if emotional incest is even the right phrase for it yet but kinda the underpinnings of it.

---

When she was eight or nine, her dad would slip notes under her door after her bedtime because he knows she always stays up reading until she can’t keep her eyes open. She’d climb out of bed to snatch them up and read the messy words before neatly tearing them up into pieces her mother could never put together—as if she’d bother, like she’d ever play along—and staring at her clock until it was time to do a routine that always stayed a little thrilling.

Her bare knees on the windowsill, her nightgown riding up, pushing her heavy window up inch by inch until she can slip out of it. She was always tiny, prone to skipping meals on top of inheriting her mother’s bird bone frame, so she could fit through a gap and jump out to the back porch with her sneakers in one hand, dangling from their laces.

She developed rules pretty quickly. The shoes would make a thud thud if she put them on before she left the house, alerting her mother, and it’d all go to hell. The games her and Dad played normally went to hell once she got involved. That’s why they had secrets and sneaking and spy missions, illicit meetings at rendezvous points.

Her dad would be out in the trees on their property or in the marshes further out, visible only by candlelight—an old lantern Ella convinced her mom to buy at an antique store, an overly ornate candalabra mom only brought for Christmas, sometimes just the beam of a flashlight gliding over the ground to lead her in his direction.

“I see you got my secret message,” he’d say, gravely, in that tone he saved for character voices and dramatic encounters.

There was always a code word for her to say or a line of poetry to recite or a handshake they’d practice over and over in the days before.

Her dad would take her hand or boost her up on his shoulders and walk her around, telling her stories, looking at the stars and naming every constellation from memory. His breath would smell like whiskey and tea most of the time they were out, when he hauled her into hugs or pressed scratchy kisses to her cheek, but she didn’t really know to worry. Men drink a lot—anyway, they do in the books she reads, the big thick ones that makes her mom roll her eyes at her dad when she thinks Ella can’t see, the ones she writes down words in a notebook to look up later—and they’re just nightcaps. He even let her try one once—didn’t realize that she’d lost track of time and skipped dinner because he did it, too—and her throat burned before she ran to the bathroom to vomit from the feeling of it hitting her on an empty stomach.

She was ten but she still doesn’t like alcohol much.

Her mom got to her before her dad did, knelt there and pet Ella’s head like she hadn’t in a while, asked how long she felt sick. Ella was little but there was an even smaller kid inside of her that remembers when her mom was the one that made her whole world about taking care of her. She didn’t tell her mom about the whiskey because she knew it would make her mad but she let her hold her tight, give her ginger ale, tuck her into bed.

Her dad never mentioned it again.

—

Riley doesn’t even hide the fact that he’s an alcoholic in a classical sense—straight to the point, he needs alcohol, can’t not drink it, but despite his general air of tragedy and despair, doesn’t seem especially tortured about it. When Ella points it out, he says, rolling his eyes, “Inherited it from my father. Who am I to break tradition?”

His eyebrows do this thing when he’s being dark that makes Ella want to touch them, hold his prickly face and smooth them out with the pads of her thumbs.

“Just like you’re keeping his shop open?” Ella asks, rocking on her toes a little, hands shoved into the too small pockets of her denim short. “Even though you hate this building and city and state and, also, everything?”

“You’re asking me if staying at this shop is the same thing as me slowly drinking myself to death?” Riley asks, waiting for Ella to shrug and nod before he looks a little horrified and says, “Jesus, kid. The insight is a little much.”

She beams before she can stop herself, eager to grab onto something that could even be interpreted as praise.

“I’m really good at interpreting characters,” she says.

“I’m sure you are,” Riley says, huffing out something resembling a laugh. Two positive interactions in one day. She’s killing it.

“I’ve gotta say, though, you’re not an especially good character,” she says, lightly, not bothering to test the water before she jumps right in, waiting for him to raise his eyebrows as a question he’s unwilling to pose before continuing. “I mean, you’re kind of a cautionary tale at most. Not very three dimensional. Your motivations are literally just die faster and, like, feel nothing. You’re static. And sad. I wouldn’t read a book about you.”

“And yet you’re here,” Riley says, clearly not knowing whether he should react to that or not, voice flat. “Every day.”

“Well, you need a dynamic character,” Ella says, tipping her head up with a smile, “to, like, shake it up. Maybe give you something to live for. By which I mean, my charming presence and gorgeous smile.”

“. . .yeah, you’re not gonna be responsible for my mental health, kid,” Riley says. “Now take the charming presence and gorgeous smile and go—literally anywhere else.”

“. . .so, you think my smile’s gorgeous, huh?” Ella asks, then sighs loudly when Riley gives her a look threatening violence he’d never actually enact. “Jesus, fine, have a nice day.”

She feels pretty accomplished after that conversation.

He totally wouldn’t have repeated the thing about her smile if he didn’t agree and the sound of him saying it is making her stomach do something complicated and gymnastic.

my once weirdly straightforward eating disorder romance novel has become a moody questionable novel about grief and suicide and daddy issues and an age gap relationship but it's firmly in the center of the novel and will end quickly and poorly and then the end is just "girl meets nice boy, does nice things, perhaps lots of therapy"

i don't know that this will be a book that anybody will even want to read but it's swimming around in my brain in pure vibe form so i'm just pinteresting and writing notes

[bartlebyarea2]

Tale of a Young Wizard

You’ve just arrived at Wizard City - a world with magic you’ve only ever dreamed of. You don’t have nearly as many classes as you did back home, and most of the ones you do attend involve getting to learn some impressive new magic. You’re held with a regard you’ve never been given before, and are excited to show everyone that you deserve to be here.

You’ve been to a couple worlds already, and you’re not entirely sure how you feel. Everyone around you is applauding your work, but whenever they call you a hero, you’re just reminded of how there was always that one small thing pulling you to the next world, always meaning you still have unfinished business that needs to be solved before you truly deserve that title.

People in other worlds are starting to be made aware of your name, so Ambrose has you change it. The wizard you once were has now settled down to continue their studies, while the real you continues on the goal of defeating Malistaire. You’re allowed to use your old name in “secure places,” but in reality you’re always out and about.

You’ve always been told that you would be the one to defeat Malistaire, and as you enter The Great Spyre, it feels like a revenge fantasy finally coming to fruition. You’ve got plenty of reasons to be angry, and for years this has seemingly been the only way to take that anger out. Yet as you enter The Crown of Fire, you see a person staring back who looks like they’ve got just as many problems as you.

You’ve just killed someone. Everyone applauds you in the name of the greater good, and awards you the title of “Saviour.” They make you change your name again in hopes of giving you some sense of normalcy, but you’re old enough to realize that’ll never be the case again.

You have no friends your age. Your class attendance had become sparser and sparser, and while everyone was always ready to jump to your aid, they always left once the job was done. All your robes these days are hooded, so most people have never seen a good portion of your face. Sometimes at night you’ll say your original name - just to keep the memory of it alive, even if you’re not sure that you’re technically allowed to.

You were getting into a pattern where the only downtime you got were the hours you spent lying awake before falling asleep. You went from warring world to warring world, in a pattern you recognized all too well from your preteen years. The name changes became more frequent - not that it mattered much, since a lot of them just called you “Wizard.” You had become very good at shutting up and following orders, but it had been so long since you had spoken in a casual conversation that your verbal communication was starting to falter too. But whenever Ambrose called, you always felt compelled to go forward with his plan.

Back when you could still attend class, it felt somewhat comforting to know that the teachers were aware of your situation. Nowadays the most you got from them were magical scrolls sent to tell you the closest location for you to learn a spell that normally involved some sort of fight you feel like you could have avoided had you been enrolled in classes. When you were still able to talk more, you remember casually letting the name and location of Nightside slip to Malorn Ashthorn, so that he could finally learn the rest of his spells. You know he’s secretly taken some of his students there so they could learn too, but you were pretty sure Ambrose wasn’t aware. After all, Ambrose was always more concerned about your whereabouts instead.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Every single minor failure you had come to expect in your journey would have never prepared you for this. Azteca was crumbling, and it was all your fault. Sure you had failed before, but never this badly. Everything felt numb as you ran back through the spiral door, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to go find Ambrose. For all the times he had insisted what you had done was a victory, you couldn’t bear to tell him the news.

You walk into the myth classroom. There’s dirt on your face, and blood on your robes. You’re not sure what time it is, but every student in the classroom is immediately rushed out until only you and Cyrus are left. You had a feeling there’d be another name change. They’d probably say something about how you had tragically died trying to evacuate as many beings as possible off of Azteca - a heroic end for an unheroic person. Standing in front of Cyrus, you don’t speak. There doesn’t even feel like a point in trying to, because nothing you could say would be able to accurately describe any of what had just happened.

The Cyrus you remembered would have snapped at you to start talking. When he doesn’t, you quietly start to break down. None of it made sense anymore. You could recall almost every decision you had made that had ultimately landed you where you were now, but none of it felt real. Cyrus had moved so that he was standing a little closer to you, but you could barely process that, or the magical scroll beside him that seemed to be writing on its own as you mumbled out bits of incoherent information.

It had been so long since anyone had used your real name.

[junko-and-riri-domain]

warm embraces & sudden kisses | ot7

↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader ↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff | requested | drabbles/headcannons ↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: anon ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ: “ENHA REACTION TO YOU KISSING THEM OUT OF NO WHERE OR JOW THE CUDDLE WITH YOU PLS AND THANK YOU 🙏” ↬ ᴀ/ɴ: 

since this is the 100th post on this blog I decided to do an ot7 one

simultaneously, this was a request so it worked out !!

anon said or but I decided to try & write both in here :$ so there’s kinda 2 mini scenarios for each member

also i wrote this on my phone in my notes while i was out today which is why everything’s lowercase :)

anon if you’d like me to rewrite this less as scenarios and more as bullet points just lmk!

Lee Heeseung

[a light’s on in the kitchen]

you wake up with the feeling of warmth no longer around you. looking around, you see that heeseung’s no longer in bed with you. your hand makes it way to your phone on your nightstand, 3:07 am greets your eyes and you hear faint sounds from outside the room. you get up with a yawn, the haze of sleepiness still on you as you make your way around the apartment the two of you share, a light’s on in the kitchen. he’s making ramen, you think to yourself. he stands tall by the stove, your footsteps are quiet as you hear him singing a song. when you get to him, your arms arm around his waist as he turns around to greet you, you jump up to give him a quick kiss, intending to meet his lips but because of how tall he is, your lips meet his cheek. he smiles, pulls you in closer to him, tilting up your chin but teases you by pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

[finally home]

you’re nestled up on the couch while a movie plays on the tv. today wasn’t a good day, to say the least. you woke up late which didn’t give you a chance to eat breakfast with heeseung, when you ordered lunch the fries were burnt and the food undercooked, and when you got home heeseung texted you to let you know that practice was running a little late which meant he wouldn’t get to have dinner with you. your eyes stayed settled on the tv until the sound of the apartment door greets your ears, bringing you out of that movie marathon haze you were trapped in. heeseung smiles as he sees you, makes his way to you, as he hands you a takeout bag.

“i bought some food on my way home, i’ll change and then we can eat, yeah?” he notices that you’re sad but doesn’t press you on about it. you nod, taking the bag from him. when he comes back, the two of you eat while a new movie is running. when you’ve finished all the food, his arm wraps around your shoulders and his head rests on top of yours.

“you ok?” he asks. his embrace is comforting and safe, similar to what it feels like when a blanket is draped over you just before you fall asleep.

“i am now that you’re finally home.”

rest of the boys under the cut !!

Park Jongseong / Jay

[flustered and red]

jay’s making dinner in the kitchen while you’re setting the table. you hear him chattering, more to himself than anything as he tries to make dinner the best that it can be. with how busy his schedule was and how much you’ve been swamped with your own work, the two of you haven’t had much time for each other. so, the you both having a free day today was something you were definitely going to take full advantage of. after setting the table, you head into the kitchen to see him slicing up lettuce for a last minute salad. you let out a smile as you see him make a honey based dressing and decided to surprise him by hugging him from behind. usually, he does it to you. despite his confident appearance and composure, you can already tell that he’s getting all flustered and red.

“Yah, who said you can sneak up on me like that!” he says, but makes no effort to pull away. You move so that you’re in front of him,

“If that’s how you react when I hug, how will you react when I do this?” Going on your tiptoes, your arms make their way around his neck as you feel the softness of his lips on yours. Guess honey was good as moisturizer…

[i built us a house]

jay was sitting in his gaming chair, his gaming set up in its own room while you were in the living room doing your own thing. while you were typing away on your laptop you hear your name being called, causing you to look up.

“i wanna show you something,” he said.

“i’m busy, hon,” you reply.

“real quick, i promise.” you sigh, knowing damn well jay wasn’t going to leave you alone until you went with him. so, following him into his game room he sat on his chair.

“why am i here?” you asked. he patted his lap, motioning for you to sit on him. as you did, one of his hands moves your hair to the other side while an arm stays settled on you. you can feel his breath on your neck, the butterflies in your stomach now doing somersaults.

“i built us a house.” your eyes look at the screen to see it on his minecraft server as his character walks around. you smile, turn your head so you’re looking at him,

“this is our house?”

“one day i’ll make it happen in real life.” despite the large promise, deep down you knew jay was going to find some way to make it a reality.

Sim Jaeyun / Jake

[just a little more]

you were on the living room couch, layla’s head on your lap while you pet her. as you do, you’re typing on your phone with your free hand. jake makes his presence known by sitting next to you, his head popping into your line of sight. you set your phone aside, smiling as you pat his hair. he frowns,

“you’ve been giving layla your attention all day, what about me?”

“layla’s cuter than you,” you reply with a teasing smile. he frowns, sighing slightly as he looks at the sight of all your attention on layla. jake heads to your room, glad that you loved layla as much as he did but wished you loved him just a little more. you head to the room, seeing jake seated by the edge of the bed, you settled yourself so that you were sitting on his lap, your legs around his waist.

“i want your attention too.”

“someone’s jealous.”

“naur, i’m not jealous,” he says, looking away. you lean forwards, pressing a kiss to his lips that lingers on for a few seconds longer than it should.

“yaur, ya are,” you tease. he smiles, kisses you again as his grip on you tighten slightly,

“it got you here, didn’t it?”

[a pair of fuzzy socks]

you’re half asleep when you feel warmth to your feet and suddenly a pair of fuzzy socks have been placed over them. you say nothing, wanting to go back to sleep more than anything. a few seconds later, you feel a dip on the bed, two actually, and you’re aware of both jake and layla around you. jake lifts up your head gently. you hear him whisper,

“layla, don’t wake up your mother,” and the feeling brings tingles to your heart, fireworks spreading throughout your body. he snuggles closer to you, intertwining his legs with yours as he traces random patterns on your back just before falling asleep.

Park Sunghoon

[cold]

for as long as he could remember, park sunghoon has lived life cold. on the ice he was cold. towards people he acted cold. you entering his life was like the sun rising after a freezing winter night. you were the heat that rid himself of the icicles stuck to his cold exterior. you melted the snowflakes of winter and turned them into roses of spring. you were the warmth he never knew he was missing. he was in your apartment, washing the dishes after you made lunch. you headed to him placing your hand on his arm. he looked over to you, smiling as you hugged his side. you leaned up as you kissed him, he couldn’t hold back his small laugh. as he felt your lips on his, heat rose to his cheeks. but despite the shyness in him about to take over, he fights it, leaning into you and kissing you once more.

[cold hands]

sunghoon has always had cold hands. and whenever he cuddled with you, he made sure that you knew it. the two of you were joking, running around the apartment when you and sunghoon both ended up on the bed. a glint appeared in his eyes, a plan forming in his head. the tips of his fingers met your stomach as you started bursting out in laugher.

“HOON WHY DO YOU HAVE COLD HANDS,” you yelled as you tried to fight him off. he smiled, vampire teeth showing in all their glory as he settled next to you in bed. his hand rested on your stomach as he brought you to him, his cold feet pressing to yours.

“you’re my personal heater,” he said, pulling you closer to him.

Kim Sunoo

[a little too close]

sunoo has always been clingy around you. some days, he’ll grab your hand out of nowhere and start fiddling with your fingers. at the most random times, he’ll play with your hair and think about how to style it. being in sunoo’s embrace is something that you’ve always welcomed. you were sort of the opposite, accepting and welcoming his touch but never really initiating it. until, today that is. you noticed someone talking to sunoo getting a little too close to him. you didn’t think much of it knowing how friendly sunoo was towards people and how others naturally gravitated to him. but, you couldn’t help yourself when you made your way to them and held onto sunoo’s hand, practically staring down the other person. sunoo smiled, intertwining your hands together while bringing you into the conversation. unsurprisingly, the outsider moved closer and without even thinking, you kissed sunoo’s cheek. his eyes slightly got wide as he looked at you, but it was an action he was glad for. in return, he kissed your cheek with a smile and couldn’t stop talking about it for the rest of the day.

[a tough day]

you were having somewhat of a tough day, having cramps, on and off headaches, and an annoying ringing in your ears that you just couldn’t get rid of. sunoo came home to find you layed on the couch, his heart breaking at the sight. he got some things and brought it to the living room,

“what are you doing?” you asked.

“spa day!” he replied excitedly. he rubbed lotion on your hands, placed cucumbers on top of your eyes, and combed out your hair. the night came to an end with you and sunoo laying on the couch together, him patting in the face mask then rubbing soothing circles on your stomach. with sunoo came a bubble of warmth you never wanted to leave.

Yang Jungwon

[make me]

jungwon’s in a playful mood today and with that playful mood comes teasing you. you’re in the living room where he decided to grab your sketchbook and hold it up above your head.

“won, give it back!” you exclaimed in annoyance, glaring at him. he has the audacity to look amused and he tells you,

“make me.” he’s always found joy in teasing you for your height and right now was no different. a plan forms in your head as you take some steps backwards. as you practically run to him, his eyes widen with fear as he’s forced to let go of your sketchbook to catch you and you end up latched onto him like a koala. you kiss him, in those few seconds the entire world stops and it’s as if no one but him exists. the kiss lingers on a second or two longer than you intended as jungwon’s grip on you tightens so that you don’t fall. on his face you see him smiling and those dimples that you’ve always loved appear. jungwon was never good at hiding his emotions, his love for you no different. you close your eyes as he leans down, you expect a kiss returned but instead, he kisses the top of your head. lightly flicking your forehead gently,

“that’s what you get for being short,” he says.

[i'm here]

with all his responsibilities and the things jungwon needs to take care of at such a young age, coming home to you is the one constant in his life. to him, the second he’s able to wrap his arms around you, revel in the scent of your shampoo, and gets to hold you, everything is just complete. at 1:06 am, he came home. it was late, he was exhausted and all he wanted to do was sleep. he headed into the room you two shared, only to see you still awake.

“you’re up?” he asked.

“no, i’m asleep,” you reply sarcastically. he sighs, setting into bed next to you, “someone’s tired,” you said.

“i want cuddles,” he mutters unable to hide his need for your affection. you shift and his head lays on your shoulder. you run your hand through his hair while you kiss the top of his head,

“i’m here.”

Nishimura Riki / Ni-ki

[bungeo to his ppang]

more than anything, ni-ki liked to be by your side. whether it was while he was watching something on his phone, showing you a new dance routine, or asking you to dye his hair, as long as you were just with him, he was happy. sleeping is something that ni-ki has always enjoyed, how could he not when it grants him a few moments of peace before a busy day? the two of you are in the car, he rests his head on your shoulders. unlike normal, he doesn’t fall asleep this time. he pretends to, he closes his eyes, stays still while enjoying your warmth, but he’s not actually asleep. you didn’t seem to notice, he feels you messing with his hair a bit, something he’s never minded as long as it was with you. he hears you talking about how cute he is, practically fangirling over him. he feels you kiss the top of his head lightly,

“sleep well, ni-kitty,” he hears you whisper. he doesn’t move, doesn’t show any sign that he’s affected by your sudden actions of love. but deep down, he feels a happiness around you that’s greater than how he feels when he’s on stage. when he performs he enjoys the thousands of eyes that watch him but all he thinks about are how your eyes look at him with adoration and pride. it was in this moment that he knew, you were the bungeo to his ppang.

[take a break]

after dinner, you’re sitting on the floor of the table in front of the tv, trying to get some work done. suddenly, you feel a weight on your lap. you look down to see ni-ki’s head on your lap, his eyes closed but he’s clearly still awake.

“yah, get off,” you said, slightly lifting up your leg.

“no.” you roll your eyes, deciding not to pay attention to him as you go back to sleep our work. it seems that ni-ki had other plans as he took your one of your hand and starting fiddling with it.

“ni-ki, i’m busy.”

“take a break,” he said. you look down at ni-ki… how could you refuse? you put away your things, shifting so that your full attention was now on him. he smiled up at you, fiddling with the edge of your clothes while saying the most random things that made you laugh.

↬ ᴀ/ɴ pt. 2:

if anyone’s read up to this point pls lmk how it was, i’m not really good with ot7 scenarios typa things 😭

❦ written by riri @enhykkul | blog masterlist

requests are currently open! rules can be found here | anon emojis

[olivershibiscustattoo]

I Love You More Than My Future Spouse

A/N: this is the first fic I’ve written in a long time and the first one ever for litg so I’m kinda nervous, but excited. Inspired by “I’d Have to Think About It” by Leith Ross (I also wrote this while getting ready for work so I apologize for any mistakes)

Suresh cheated. She couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth after finding that picture of the two of them. Suresh. Her boyfriend. The man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. In bed with another woman. She felt like her whole world came crashing down on her.

He had come into her life years before and whisked her away. He made all of her wildest dreams come true. All of her friends told her how lucky she was, and she felt it. She felt it every time she looked at him and had her heart swell up with nothing but love. She felt it in the electricity in their every touch, no matter how small or simple. She felt it when they would take off and travel or go on some adventure he’d planned for them. But now…she didn’t feel much of anything.

She sat there and tried to listen to what he was saying, but everything went in one ear and out the other. The love of her life cheated. The one she assumed was her soulmate, betrayed her.

They ended up breaking up. She moved out and back in with her former roommates from before she’d met Suresh.

Everyone told her she would move on and love again, and she knew it was true. She also knew, however, that she would never love anyone the way she loved Suresh. She could meet someone tomorrow who’s nice and sweet and helps her pick the pieces of her heart back together with care, but they would never know her the way Suresh did. She would never be truly happy. She would live the rest of her life being content with someone and the life they would build together. No matter what, they would never measure up. She was under the impression that we all get one soulmate in life, and Suresh was hers.

In the meantime, she was technically a free woman. As free as anyone could be when you’re heart is forever tethered to the one who shattered it. She could travel, see the sights she never got to with Suresh, have the most amazing dinners and memories with other people, drink to her hearts content, try her best to live in the moment. She knew that these are the things people do to try to fill the void, and maybe they can convince themselves that it works, and maybe it will for her too, but there will always be something gnawing at her, telling her she belonged somewhere else. With someone else.

She imagined what her life would look like without him. She would probably end up getting married. Fill their home with the sounds of the pitter patter of their children’s feet. Everyone around her would praise her for the life she built and say things along the lines of “isn’t this better than anything you imagined when you sobbed in your bed over some boy in your twenties?” She would smile and nod, but the joy would never fully reach her eyes at the thought of “some boy”. He could show up and ask her to run away with him. Tell her he made a mistake and has been miserable without her for all of these years. Tell her he knows he’s probably too late, but ask her if she’s willing to take a risk. And she’s not entirely too sure if she would say no. Even if it’s the right thing to do.

She told herself that he never loved her as much as she loved him. He couldn’t have. If he did, he would have never been in the bed of anyone else knowing she was home in theirs, waiting for him. They had been going through a rough patch, but no relationship is without their troubles. They could have worked harder on communicating. They could have expressed their love for each other more. But even during their hard times, she never once even thought of straying from him. She knew what they had was worth fighting for. She knew it was more precious than diamonds or rubies, or anything else the world could offer.

She thought back to the time he went to meet her mother. It was a big deal to her, for them to meet. Her father had left when she was little and it had been just the two of them most of her life. She still remembered when her mother leaned over to whisper in her ear “he’s a good one, you better keep him around”. She smiled and it filled her heart with so much love to know her mother, who’d been through so much in her life, approved of Suresh. She knew how he came off in public, but in private he was a dream come true.

She can’t imagine having that with anyone else. She can’t imagine loving anyone else with the same power and force she loved him. No one.

He could show up on her wedding day, run down the aisle and reach her. Look disheveled and distressed, confess his love for her and ask her to reconcile. And she just might do it. She just might leave the person she was to marry seconds before it became official to be with Suresh.

Everyone has their weaknesses and Suresh is hers. He always has been and he always will be. Her kryptonite. Her hearts true want and desire. What he does to her, what he makes her feel, she’s not sure could ever be replicated. She’d learn to lie in the face of those she loves and cares for most when they ask her if she’s fine and she’s moved on. But she’s not and she hasn’t. She’ll never be over him. Her soulmate.

She knows that when she moves on it will only partially be filling the Suresh shaped hole in her heart. Things will never be the same with anyone else. And she doesn’t want it to be.

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

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

[mmani-e]

Wrote some text for my Deltaswap Spamton take! Text below:

Enter Shop -

Variant 1

*WHAT? No, we don’t sell Cungaderos-

*Oh! CUSTOMERS!

Variant 2

*Yes, and if you CALL NOW you’ll get a COMMEMORATIVE PLAQUE of ownership!

*Only here at the BIG SHOT LOUNGE!

Variant 3

*Welcome to the BIG SHOT LOUNGE!

*EVERYTHING at an AFFORDABLE PRICE!

Shop

* DON’T be a SUCKER

* GIVE US your KROMER!

Exit

* This has been the BIG SHOT LOUNGE!

* If you’re interested in our SPECIAL DEALS, just CALL BACK!

Buy

* CALL your SHOTS, NAME your PRICE! [While purchasing]

* We don’t do CHARITY work here KID! [Not enough D$ for purchase]

* Nothin’ like the SWEET TASTE of KROMER! [On purchase]

* Sold and STORED! [Item placed in storage]

* Can’t SELL if you can’t BUY, it’s the rules. [Full inventory]

* Aww, you ALMOST had it! [Refuse buy]

Sell

* A GOOD salesman knows when to stock up! [While selling]

* This one better be a BARGAIN! [While selling items]

* Somethin as SHARP as my SUIT? [While selling weapons]

* PROTECTION from a bad DEAL? [While selling armor]

* Right on the KROMER! [On selling weapons / armor]

* You’ve got the HEAD of a SALESMAN! [On selling items]

* I ain’t in the AIR business, KID. [Sell empty slot]

* You gotta HAVE junk, to SELL junk! [Attempt sell without items]

* Driving a HARD BARGAIN? [Refuse sell]

* Hey put that thing away! [Attempting to sell a free item]

Talk

* Time is KROMER, but this once I’m feeling GENEROUS!

About yourself

*ME? EAHAHAHA, You’re kiddin’, right?

*…

*Oh, you’re not?

*Ah well. Name’s SPAMTON, eugh, sorry, force of habit.

*Spamton. Spamton G. Spamton! Head salesman and advisor to the Tribunal.

*I’m kinda a BIG DEAL!

*So BIG in fact I’d say most of the running of this joint…

*This WHOLE kingdom… well it’s in MY hands, little buddy.

*I keep those scamps out of trouble and on that throne 

*And me and my buddies are free to turn the whole joint into ADVERTISING SPACE!

Goals

*Well isn’t it obvious kid, we turn this castle into A WALK-IN BILLBOARD…

*We spread ADS everywhere throughout town…

*And then they buy our stuff! Then we all get rich and buy go-karts!

*I’ve got my eye on a certain Spanish model!

*EAHAHAHHAHAH!

*…

*Oh and I guess keeping the Tribunal in charge is a good idea too.

*They’re nice kids, honest! Just a little dumb, really.

*They couldn’t run this town by themselves, and that’s where we come in!

*Call me a jerk for running things under their noses, but I’m telling ya-

*There wouldn’t BE a kingdom left if it was just them!

The King

*Which one? Oh, THAT chump!

*HAH, told him there’s only spots for three Kings, and here he’s nothing more than a common jerk.

*The mook got mad and started breaking stuff, saying he was ‘exercising his authority’.

*He wasn’t able to do much for long.

*HEHAHHEHAHHAEA!

*Anyway, he went off to find something his sorry rump can rule.

*He went south, fine by us. He can exercise all by himself in the DUMP!

*He looks like he needs all the exercise he can get! 

*HEEHEHEAHHAHEHAHHA!

The King (After defeating him)

*Oh you wiped the floor with that mook?

*HEEHAHAHAHAHAHAH! 

*Would’ve paid good money to see that!

*I know Pipis Tamer would, that grubby slob was looking for a new QUEEN.

*Even tried a pick up line on them that I’m not allowed to say else I'm gonna get a MIGRAINE!

*It was so bad even the PIPIS got worked up and knocked him down! I told everyone those things’d come in handy one day!

*EHAHHAEHHAHEHHAAHEA!

Outfit

*Outfit? Oh! Hehe, inspired by an earlier design.

*A good salesman knows a good design when he sees one,

*And an even BETTER salesman takes that good design and changes it up a little.

*Now, you won’t find a more recognizable look in ALL the Cyber World!

*EHAHHAEHHAHEHHAAHEA!

Attic

*Attic? Huh?

*EAHEHEH, good one kid, ehehe…

*...heh…

*Listen kid, we don’t have an Attic.

*Don’t know from what cockamamie source you got THAT from

*But my best advice is for you to forget all about it and move on.

*Now if you excuse me I’ll be busy making a very important call…

Attic Armor

*… Arright, arright.

*Jig’s up.

*So, you weren’t the first Lightners I’ve known.

*I’ve been selling to Lightners all my life, custom emails, custom DEALS! HOT SINGLE! PRODUCTS TAILOR MADE 4 U...

*Most of the time they weren’t real…

*But now they are! I’ve got the CASH, I’ve got the KROMER!

*I’ve got what I need to make stuff real now! I’m clean!

*…

*But back then there was this Lightner down on their luck.

*In fact they always seemed down, but they had gusto.

*So I scanned their search history, found out what they liked, and pieced together something’ I thought’d make them happy!

*And sent them the DEAL of a LIFETIME…

*Made them happy for a bit, but it was sent into the dumps. 

*Probably for the best too!

*It’s not like I could’ve made it real back then anyhow.

*After we moved into the castle I was determined to make it just in case I’d ever see em again, and I kept it in the attic for safekeeping.

*… but that old bird! Someone fed the schmuck info on our inner workings for top dollar!

*They tried to use someone’s DREAM to kick us all out and get things back to the way things were before!

*IT’S ENOUGH TO MAKE YA SICK! And to think I looked up to the guy at one point…

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

VelvetCardiganBucky’s Recommendations 2021: Week 16 | April 11th – April 17th

Welcome to week 16 of my recommendations, if you would like to be featured on a future list, I follow the hashtag #VelvetCardiganBucky, message me, tag me in your future works, or reblog this post and link to your story, one-shot, Masterlist, writing challenge, etc.

Be aware some if not most stories and writers on this list are meant to be consumed by an audience of those 18+. My blog is also an 18+ blog.

✨Page breaks are made @firefly-graphics✨

«Last Week

Week 17»

My Masterlist

My Fic Rec List of Mafia/Mob Bucky/Sebastian & Steve/Chris/Andy

Stuff I Posted This Week:

Lee Bodecker

One-Shots:

Rough Love by @ladyfallonavenger » Lee Bodecker x Reader — Lee wakes to his wife getting ready for the day. This work is inspired by the song Poker Face by Lady Gaga. | So very hot. 🥵

I Can’t Wait To Meet You by @not-a-great-writer » Lee Bodecker x Pregnant!Reader — Request: Lee doesn’t want to leave his pregnant wife’s side. | I summarized the requested one-shot up. It’s very fluffy and domestic and sweet. I say we petition for the user name to be changed not a great writer to a fantastic writer!

(Mini) Series:

*Give In 🎡 Pt.21 🎡 Pt.22 by @not-a-great-writer » Soft!Dark!Lee Bodecker x Shy!Reader — She didn’t think she was anything special. So when the intimidating Sheriff takes an interest in her, she can’t help but feel a little unsettled. Her boring life is about to get a little interesting. | Can I just say this story is just *chefs kiss*? Lee Bodecker? *chefs kiss* Reader? *chefs kiss* It’s just all so perfect and so is the smut.

Bucky Barnes

One-Shots:

I’m In The Water by @nsfwsebbie » Dark!Winter Soldier x Reader — He’s in the wind, and you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter. | Read the tags, this is extremely dirty as well as dark, but I honestly enjoyed it. Sabrina really blew my mind with this one.

Show A Little Gratitude by @thicccsimp » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You discover a new kink with Bucky after making a bad call during a mission. | Hot, Hot, Hot 🥵

Just Wondering by @infernal-fire » soft!dark!Buck Barnes x Reader — Reader is pregnant and has some mixed feelings. | This is sort of adorable, and pregnancy hormones really come out in this.

Sunday Kinda’ Love by @msmarvelwrites » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You weren’t sure when it happened, falling in love with Bucky Barnes. | Brontë is such an amazing writer who wrote something that made my heart squeal while the rest of me just thought it was really hot.

Don’t You by @pagesoflauren » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky sees you for the first time after breaking up with you. | Taylor Swift and Bucky Barnes what more could you ask for in life?

(Mini) Series:

Just Like Dad 💋 Pt.2 by @ladyfallonavenger » Bucky Barnes x Reader — The Reader loses Bucky in the snap and life presents a whole new challenge. | It’s got your angst and your fluff, everything you need for a perfect one-shot.

Sweet Dreams Pt.3 ✨ Pt.1 ✨ Pt.2 by @jedimastermelkor » Bucky Barnes x Reader; Mystery Avenger x Reader — Your daily routine involves waking up in the morning, going to work and sulking at night. But then you meet the man you’ve fantasized about for your entire life, Bucky Barnes. At the same time, you’ve caught someone else’s eye and his first step in winning you over is to cook you breakfast. But will you be welcoming of that person’s affections? | You can tell Bucky really likes the reader in this and the reader has a crush on Bucky. Now you add Peter who you know has a crush on the reader. It's sort of adorable. I highly recommend it. It will keep you at the edge of your seat and your jaw hitting the floor a couple of times along the way.

Stucky

(Mini) Series:

The Miracle Pt.3 ✨ Pt.1 ✨Pt.2 by @heavenhatesme » Soft!Dark!Stucky x Reader — When infertility threatens mankind with extinction and there hasn’t been a baby for almost 18 years, what happens when two certain super soldiers fall for the same woman and accidentally impregnate her? | Heed the tags folks. I want to call them soft!dark, but they are pretty dark, but it’s up to you the reader to decide. The smut in this is great, and the storyline just as good, it also pulls on your heartstrings.

Vampires Will Never Hurt You by @missgraceomalley » Steve Rogers x Darcy Lewis; Bucky Barnes x Darcy Lewis; Steve Rogers x Darcy Lewis x Bucky Barnes — Darcy's been hiding something and Steve can't pin what it is. Can the serum help him? Or will he be compelled away? (AO3)| I love stories that take you on twist and turns, I also love vampires, add in Damon Salvatore plus the two Super Soldiers? You make me very happy!

*Brooklyn Wars by @world-of-aus » Mob!Steve x Reader, Mob!Bucky x Reader / Eventual Mob!Stucky x Reader — Childhood friends pulled apart by a move and a rivalry between families, will a shared promise of ‘till the end of the line’ be enough to keep them together. Or will a deal struck up gone wrong, and an indecisiveness to choose who your heart loves be the ‘end of the line.’ | I spent my Saturday morning re-reading this and loving every part and wishing for more. @world-of-aus is such a fantastic writer that doesn’t get enough recognition in my list.

Steve Rogers

(Mini) Series:

*His Koala Bear by @kinanabinks » Dark!Steve Rogers x Innocent!Reader — You and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it’s getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it. | Prepare for the emotional roller coaster this story is going to take you on and to change your underwear or perhaps to take a cold shower, maybe both.

*Lipstick and Crayons 🖍 Pt.5 by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark!Mob!Steve Rogers x Single Mom!Reader — Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob. | This story makes you feel like you are watching a Dark!Mob Romantic movie staring Steve Rogers. It’s just that good and I love it.

Ransom Drysdale

One-Shots:

Sugar by @chrissquares » Ransom Drysdale x Reader — Reader sees Ransom in his glasses for the first time. | Let’s be honest, I wouldn’t mind seeing Ransom in his glasses more often, especially if he looked like that.

(Mini) Series:

Stolen What’s Mine Pt.1 by @wanderinglunarnights » Ransom Drysdale x OFC!Charlotte Callahan — Charlotte and Ransom are up for the same promotion at the publishing house. She hates his handsome ass, especially when he steals the job as editor in chief out from under her nose. | Charlotte is sassy and she isn’t going to take any of Ransom’s nonsense, I love it! You can tell it’s going to be a good one!

Andy Barber

One-Shots:

I’ll Be Here by @candlefics » Andy Barber x Reader — Jacob grew up with you around. What happens when he’s convicted of murder, and his family falls apart? What will your relationship with Andy turn into? | I like this take on a show I have still yet to watch. It was sweet and emotional, a must read in my book.

(Mini) Series:

*Moment’s Silence Pt.3 🥞 Pt.1 🥞 Pt.2 by @syntheticavenger » Frank Adler x Reader; Andy Barber x Reader — The tumultuous relationship between twin brothers Frank and Andy takes a turn for the worse when Andy offers to wipe out Frank’s debt by asking for the one thing Andy wants that Frank has. | This story has me wanting to bite my nails in anticipation even though I can’t. So freaking good!

Misc.

Drabbles:

Good Behavior by @syntheticavenger » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader; Soft Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — Andy’s special delivery arrives with a familiar face. | This is hot in a way you wouldn’t expect it to be, and I’m sort of wishing for a part 2.

One-Shots:

*Distractions by @rebelwrites » Jax Teller x Reader — I requested “Can you please put a shirt on?” | Let me just say this prompt was just so well written and it put a smile on my face. I would welcome Jax as a distraction any day, as long as he threw one of his signature panty dropping smiles my way.

Seal Team

One-Shot:

I’m Not Good Enough by @rebelwrites » Sonny Quinn x Reader — “So, we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?” | This broke my heart than it fixed it. 💗

No Damsel In Distress by @rebelwrites » Clay Spenser x Reader — #3 and #13 for Clay Spenser. “Even when we were kids, i always kicked your ass!” And “How is my wife more badass than me?” | So hilarious and badass.

You Aren’t Allowed To Be Sick by @rebelwrites » Clay Spenser x Reader — “What do you mean you’re sick?! You’re my partner in crime!” | Clay can buy me flowers and take care of me any day.

[sapphire-knight]

You guys are giving me way too much power by letting me talk about acting

@minecant you wanted me to rant about Techno and Wilbur's acting? Well, you asked for it

Let's start with Techno bc I realized something this morning and I cannot get it out of my head, let's go.

Techno has a really peculiar way of acting compared to anyone else, his character is a lot more aware of the fourth wall than any other character is, and actually having to keep in check a character that, to certain acting degrees, could be almost considered self-aware is actually harder than you can imagine, and of course everything that's kinda hard in scripted acting goes to a whole new level of difficoult in improv; but on the other hand, his type of acting (more specifically: the voice acting) is on the same page of 3 other characters: Tubbo, Fundy and Niki. Follow me on this, alright? The basically only thing that these 4 characters, that narratively are so different from each other,is the way they are voiced. All four of then have a really specific way of talking and talking pattern, to the point where even if you were to put the voices in a voice-changer you could still know what character is talking just because of the way they talk. Let me elaborate: Fundy usually his voice doesn't let a lot of emotions through and his speech is usually straight to the point, keeping his tone medium and trying to keep his voice relaxed; Niki's usual tone is soft and lighter, is easy to not hear it with her low tone of voice and higher pitch that give her a kinder undertone; Tubbo's tone is also one in a softer scale and lower of volume, but where Niki is easy to miss Tubbo lets a bit more emotion in all phrases to make himself pop out, he doesn't tend to go straight to the point in conversations and his tone is pretty much constant; Techno doesn't let emotions shine through his voice, more like Fundy, but to the extreme, keeping a completly monotone type of speech in basically all the situations and isn't very talkative, a character that talks one when he feels like it's needed and goes straight to the point of the conversation, not caring how that makes him come across to the other characters.

These 4 have incredibly set in stone characters, keeping always to their own set of acting rules for them. It's not easy to set yourself acting rules for your characters in an improv, but if you manage to do it's an in incredible help. Even Wilbur's character was more unhinged under that point of view, his "standard" continuing to change slightly as his mental stage declined.

But you know where does the actual strenght of having these things set in stone for your characters? That the emotions are a lot more powerfull. Let's think about it, why most of the emotive scene shock us? You can usually feel the emotions because the tone of voice lets these emotions through, it hits you because it wasn't there before, it's a switch between the usual voice and the emotive one, it gives you whiplash, but why am I talking about this?

Because these characters are able to express their emotions with a lot more power, because they always talk in a really specific way, you get used ti their tone and speech pattern without noticing it, so you maybe not actually understand it, but your brain notices when the pattern breaks, and since it is a really set in stone one, when it gets broken the whiplash is extreme. Just like when Niki rebelled against Schlatt, the whiplash was her raising her voice and abandoning the soft tone she always used, but kept the classic amount of emotions in her voice, the same thing happens with Techno and his speech: some emotions start to get throught, he doesn't get to the point quickly as always, instead he keeps on talking with extreme confidence in every word, the same confidence he always has. Whiplash guys, whiplash.

I didn't mention Quackity as one of the set-in-stone-speaking characters, because he switches too much to set the rules enough to shock when broken. I'm not saying at all that he isn't a good actor, on the contrary, his acting just works on different bases, example, Try looking at the Quackity vs Schlatt argument compared to the Tubbo vs Tommy: when Quackity got angry it wasn't expected, it was a bit alienating, it didn't feel like the Quackity we know because it was incredibly different than how his character speaks, too different (Which still isn't bad, at all, that scene was phenomenal); when Tubbo got angry it still felt like Tubbo, you could still pinpoint it was Tubbo even without hearing his voice, because even if the voice is raised, the amount of emotions is the same and the speech pattern is the same, just to the next level. So yeah.

I don't even feel like talking about Techno's lines tho, these are amazing under every technical point of view and you guys know that, so let's go to Wilbur.

Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur, where can I begin with Wilbur? Not only he had an extraordinary arc for his own character, he also wrote an incredible story- this guy's voice acting is off the charts in every way possible, are you telling me he didn't take acting classes as a kid? i do not believe you. Like, at all. He has a perfect hang on his voice, but this could be because he's also a singer: expressing emotions during songs is harder than you think, because you cannot let emotions ruin your exibition by making your voice crack at the wrong part or making you mess up the timing, but you also need to let them shine through or the voice will seem flat and Wil knows that perfectly, just listen to Your City gave me asthma and you'll understand what I'm going on about here.

Wilbur Soot is a showman. He manovrated the stage to shine a spotlight on himself, making us see what he wants us to see: that's why it took us so much to realize that the character didn't just "go insane" out of nowhere, the seeds were always there, we had all the hints we needed, but he was able to move his character around it, around the arc, in such a way that made us overlook all of those details until they slapped us in the face. He showed us the consequences of his character through other characters, he acted and spoke in a certain way to get a reaction from the others, and the others reacted in the exact way Wilbur planned. And those things aren't scrpited, only major plotpoints are. Wheter this was intentional on his part or it was a coincidence it's not clear, but in either cases it's still pure skill and genius.

Wilbur knew how to act and interact with every character, it's impressive

He even knew how to get Dream on his act on the festival narrative, Dream isn't always top notch at improv and we know that, but if he can get in the loop he is absolutely a distructive force, it's terrifying, and Wilbur knew exactly what to do to get Dream inside the loop of events and it's incredible.

You could guess he knew how to act with Tommy, Tubbo, Ph1lza, Techno and Schlatt, of course he did, he already knew them, but right now he has an incredibly difficoult bit with someone I would have never guessed if I didn't watch the SMP, with Fundy. I have not been in the fandom for a lot of time, but it seems like the two actually met each other on the SMP. They are carrying and incredibly emotional taxing bit with each other, and the SMP lore started just this year- more or less 7/8 months I think? Correct me if I'm wrong. The story bit these two are on is a delicate one, one wrong step and the situation explodes. The fact that they are capable to carrying it even without having known each other for a long time is honestly impressive. Things like this are incredibly hard even when scripted, in improv usually only people who blindly trusted each other for a long time are able to carry it, meanwhile Wilbur and Fundy are flawlessly running with this story arc, the character interactions are perfect, ever act, every word is so incredibly in character for both of them, in scenes like this having to keep perfect track of your character is hard, you have to concentrate on the scene, you cannot stop to think about it, you have only one take and you cannot afford to slow down the act or you risk losing the atmosphere and the momentum of it, and if you do that you'e screwed, you lost an entire scene. In improv you cannot afford slipping up, but if you actually do you have to be incredibly quick to catch yourself, lose two seconds too many and the moment is broken.

Wilbur Soot is incredibly quick to adapt his acting to ever change in his character, having to jump from the power hungry, driven crazy, obsessive, unhinged, paranoid character that is Wilbur to the sad, guilty, scared, repressed, just-wanting-to-be-happy, forgetfull, ignoring character that is Ghostbur is not something easy. Like, at all. It's a cspital switch, and he did it from a day to the other like it's nothing.

Mr Soot please leave some talent to the rest of us come on-

[probably-haven]

Hello!! After seeing what you wrote about xiaoven fics I went to see what things you usually write and omg, your archon Venti headcanons????? I am absolutely in love. So if it isn't annoying, could you talk about xiaoven or Venti or Xiao or whatever ship or character you like? I don't care what you are going to say, I just want to know more about your thoughts ^^

I- is this... bestie, this is essentially a free ramble pass- kerujsgheskdfug. Trust me when I say that in no way is this, and in no way will it ever be annoying in the slightest- i literally- lets just say rambling off thoughts is kind of my specialty, especially when provided a topic to branch off of because otherwise I'm just- really indecisive about it so- iujskdh yeah- 100% definitely down to talk about Venti, Xiao, and/or Xiaoven XD. Also, yes- it may have been awhile since i last posted one(cuz again, indecisive about which direction to take part 5), but the Archon War Era Venti headcanons are still without a doubt my favorite posts I've made. It's just such an interesting topic with such endless potential that so few people actually think about or consider or even realize is there, so i always just get really psyched whenever i see someone interact with them lol.

.... this ended up being a bit of a mess: warning in advance

Anyway! onto the actual content!

- You see the thing about Xiaoven is that there's a lot of different ways that it could end up working out, and just personally my favorite way of portraying Xiaoven in my mind is as an unlabeled relationship because if anyone in genshin would give off that vibe its these two. And a number of other reasons.

- Firstly, I heavily headcanon Venti as being an aroace polyplatonic or perhaps heavily demiromantic. However, regardless of this I just don't think that Venti is really the kind of person to worry about how he should label his feelings, thinking it's silly to try to put them in one box or the other, especially with feelings and emotions being as fluid as they are in general. Plus it fits his whole God of Freedom vibe. I just- dont think he's the biggest fan of labels or social categorization in general.

- And secondly on the hand of Xiao... his defense mechanisms are very much ingrained in his personality. It's probably hard enough for him to not go into fight or flight(the answer is fight) at the slightest affection at first, at the slightest feeling of vulnerability. Even further down the line, with his fierce dedication to Liyue, I cant help but get the vibe that the moment he recognized that he was falling for Venti he would begin avoiding him, not only to avoid distraction from his duty, but to avoid corrupting him or losing him in general like he has with like basically every other person he gets close with(even believing that the cycle had repeated once more when he first heard of Morax's death)... now imagine Venti tryna slap a label on their relationship and tell me Xiao would have a positive reaction.

- The thing with Xiaoven.... honestly, i feel like theres more ways that it can go wrong than it can go right, but if they do manage to make their relationship work out, it's just simply beautiful in all terms of the word.

- Lets talk about killing. - During the Archon War, both were forced to kill a large number of people and gods alike- Venti out of a need to remain alive to protect Mondstadt, it's freedom, and the nameless bard's legacy by extent- and Xiao out of servitude to the god that was once his master

..... actually- break here- ive talked a lot about Venti on this blog but I havent actually spoken about Xiao all that much- so i should probably do that a bit first... do note though that my characterization of Xiao is pretty flexible actually- this is just- the possible characterization of him that i tend to favor as being the most- uh- "realistically complex"

-

Theres a line I saw this one time in a certain story: "He is a trained weapon. That's what he is, was, and always will be. You cannot change that so stop trying." And i just- think its a really interesting concept- that applies pretty well to Xiao now that i actually think about it. - the concept behind it is this: After spending more than a vast majority of his life killing or otherwise in battle, it's become a part of who he is, a normalcy that after centuries and centuries would be near impossible to get rid of or reverse, and even if it was possible, with his karmic debt constantly eating away at him its unlikely he has enough time left for that to happen. - it sounds like a cruel thing to say about him- but in context it's actually pretty layered and i think about it a lot. It's not as much a "he's a killer lol, that his whole personality" its more of a "The centuries of trauma he experienced have conditioned him into a constantly alert and battle ready mindset while also shaping his dehumanizing inferior-in-worth-but-superior-in-capability view of himself that would have likely been necessary to get through those time, and at this point he's been under that conditioning for long enough that it's essentially ingrained itself in his personality."

- the main idea is- it's a part of who he is, that needs to be accepted as who he is because its not something that he can just up and change. It's not all he is of course but his constant battle mode, as though always waiting to be ambushed or to be granted a new target to eradicate.

a couple character story quotes:

-"His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins. The only way he could be of service to mortals was in combat." -"Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory. No grudge can last a thousand years; nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time. Xiao has spent many long years alone. But his battles have never been in vain." -"where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield." -"since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage." -"The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end." -"Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself."

i feel like at some point this very nearly did consume his whole personality, almost turning him into nothing more than a being of slaughter under Morax's control, devoid of any "humanity" at all, consumed and corrupted by his karmic debt like his fellow yakshas before him. - until he experienced a moment of clarity- a song in the wind, the peaceful melody of a dihua flute. - and pulled back from the border of something he wouldnt have been able to return from, there a was a shift in his mind- a concept grown unfamiliar enough with time that it took him a great time to identify what it was; a curiosity. Something that there was no place for on the battlefield, something that by all means should have been completely useless to Xiao, and yet he held onto that curiosity, slowly regaining over time, a sense of who he was and who he could choose to be with each song that the wind chose to carry towards him every once in a blue moon.

and eventually that curiousity turned to longing. Longing "for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers"

...... uh- heh- if you couldn’t tell already i have a tendency to make my characterizations/analyses of characters more serious that i probably should. 

to summarize: Xiao is constantly toeing the line between his ingrained nature and his humanity- almost as though still trying to decide how much of that humanity he deserves to have, how much he is allowed to have, and how much is safe to have.

^looking back after writing this, i think the best way to explain it is that this is the view that i keep in mind/the lense that i tend to most enjoy looking through and refering back to while examining and/or analyzing his character, actions, story, lines, and overall personality.

idk- i kinda got off track but i just think its a really interesting interpretation to think about because it has some really interesting implications ig- it’s not the full extent of how i view him of course, but i kinda got ahead of myself and its long enough as is so ill just elaborate as i go- Lol i actually have in progress playlists for both him and venti and just- vibes- i could ramble about the playlists alone for hours explaining everything... It’s probably a problem- uh- ill keep going now lol.

anyways! stepping off the angst path for a brief break! Brought to you by their lines in the snow: both waiting for it to get thick enough, Venti for the purpose of a snowball fight and Xiao for the purpose of a tasty and nutritious breakfast.

but its actually something of note that Xiao doesnt actually need to eat so anything he does eat is usually out of obligation or enjoyment- so like.... snow.... like i dont blame him, but of all things- an adeptus who refuses to eat basically anything but almond tofu looks at the freezing-cold-floor-water that yeeted itself from above and decided at some point- damn- that seems more edible than basically ever single actually edible thing ever.... im gonna eat it- like- im glad if eating snow makes him happy but- at the same time...

He probably convinces Venti to eat snow too though and Venti wouldnt even resist I mean he’s wind and has probably consumed worse things in his time so- 2 anemo cryptids with glowing tattoos sitting in Dragonspine monching snow in the dead of night is an amusing thought to me.

- kay, now back to more serious-toned thoughts

One of the things about the ship that i really like is the different contradicting parallels between them:

A lot of how i view Xiao’s character is someone formed largely by the things he cant control and who was forced to accept that accepted that and learned to thrive in it as much as he can.  Venti on the other hand is surrounded by things he cant control and is ever adapting to control as much as he can while embracing whatever he cant as being part of the unpredictability of the world, seeing beauty in it. 

both of them have lost people and do what they do to honor their memory: Xiao continues to do what the Yakshas once did And Venti chooses to do what his friend couldn’t

Xiao’s power coming from himself  and Venti’s from others And both seem to appear to use their power for their own gain while truly helping others behind the scenes

both have killed a lot of people during the archon war Xiao views it as another necessary event out of his control and Venti would likely view it as a tragedy he chose to enact himself

and this is where we meet out balance

Xiao- contrary to how i think a lot of people view him as thinking of himself as a monster- seems canonically to have accepted this as part of his duty, as long as those he killed are not mortals. I dont think he enjoys it no- but someone has to do it and he’s just accepted that its a part of his duty Venti on the other hand-

See the beauty of the ship- as someone with an angst-centric mind- is this- these are two of the most traumatized mfers in the game 

Xiao is by far the one who needs the most help and who can serve to benefit most from the ship- but he is nowhere near self aware enough to recognize that there’s anything wrong or unhealthy about his mindset in the slightest-

whereas you have the contrast with Venti who sorted through most of his trauma with the nameless bard alone during the archon war and while the result appears more healthy- is still really not- but he’s not self aware of that either because i mean- who’s going to tell him? nobody even knows. 

however- venti is aware enough to notice flaws in Xiao’s mindset and “Venti” enough to want to help them through it-

Xiao- while not aware enough to recognize the flaws in Venti’s mindset, can recognize where it contrasts with his own, and is blunt enough to point it out- and then it’s out there to be mulled over- 

they’re so similar and yet so different and a feel just conversing between the two of them, being in each others precense, just being exposed to two mindsets that are so very different could do both of them a whole lot of good.

GEEE THAT BIT OF RAMBLING HAD LITTLE TO NO DIRECTION AT ALL- LET ME-- LET ME MAKE THIS START MAKING SENSE- WITH... DYNAMICS OR SOMETHING

I don’t think Xiao needs to sleep really- and i dont think that sleeping would do anything except make him uneasy at first- he’d probably just get nightmares after all he’s been through- but with Venti he would soon learn that it doesn’t have to be that way, lulled into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in... as long as he can remember.

anywho back to not making sense cuz im fickle and i think most questions about ships are best displayed through character interactions so like- a possible exchange thats cliche but cliches exist for a reason

Xiao: Why do you try so hard to help me, it isn’t easy. I know that much Venti, with the most adoring expression: Because you’re worth it, obviously Xiao: But surely there are others more deserving of- Venti: No Xiao, everyone is just as deserving as the next person, you included Xiao: Then why me above others? Venti: ehe, cuz ur my warrior of course [O//////O oh shit, hes right] Xiao: My contract is with Morax alone [gay panic but in broody yaksha]

it’s kinda difficult cuz neither of them really address their feelings.  I mean Venti does but he does it very indirectly and its rare that he ever does it with like- genuine directness- even spilling his backstory was in the form of a song- and told in the third person- so a lot of their interactions would often have some deeper meaning, especially with Venti being the bard he is. 

I come up with a lot of- errant thoughts about Xiaoven- but this is making me realize that a true analysis of their ship is rather difficult because it just encompasses so many dynamics so its hard to settle on just one and not go rambling about who knows what bouncing from one end of the ship to the other-  Because you truly can and thats the beauty of it

within one moment you can be having a heartfelt conversation about the archon war the impact of lost friends and times past, and the next moment Venti is trying to forcefeed Xiao an apple while Xiao screams about disrespecting the adepti and its just- so lovely

so while they have picnics with nothing but apples, dandelion wine, and almond tofu they can sit down and talk about the dreams Xiao once devoured, and the dandelion wine and apple cider that the first Ragnvindir invented from the plants that never could have grown in Old Mond. The foods that tasted of familiarity, or of the grilled ticker fish Pervases always used to eat, foods that tasted of friends and frankly family that had since passed, glaze lilies and cecilias and qingxin flowers scattered in the surroundings and woven into Xiao’s neat braids and Venti’s now messy ones, rebraided by the steady and inexperienced hands of one unused to gentle action. 

and then of course Venti steals Xiao’s tofu once the mood becomes too grim and replaces it with a bottle of wine that Xiao refers to as “vile poison,” a remark that fatally wounds Venti as he collapses on the floor, proclaiming how he can only be healed by a Yaksha’s kiss. Xiao ignores this of course and simply takes back his tofu with a slight smile on his face, but as Venti persists he soundlessly places a kiss on his own palm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back up from where he was dramatically sprawled on the floor, grumbling about how such action was “unbecoming of an archon.” A sign of affection only Xiao would ever know about. But Venti is literally wind and I hc his senses work differently anyways so he definitely knows- plus Xiao’s face is red as the blood of his enemies and the way he is pointedly not looking at Venti at all really speaks volumes anyways. 

 -Venti playing epic battle music whenever Xiao goes into fights in what looks like a ridiculously extra performance to anyone else but is actually doing wonders to keep Xiao’s karma at bay

-Venti preaches the practice of “kissing wounds better” and Xiao is unfamiliar with this medical treatment but views it as unnecessary regardless because adepti have accelerated healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to stop him though. 

-Messages whispered on the wind

-Venti’s 1000 year sleep- an accident, not a fun time for the yaksha, and not a fun time for Venti once he woke up. Venti is actually more afraid of restful sleep than Xiao is, hence the sleeping in trees thing, but when Xiao is there, he can sleep restfully with faith that Xiao wont let another millennia slip through his fingertips. 

- Xiao tends to make excuses when doing things that aren’t necessary to his duty, like in his birthday voice line “Have this, it’s a butterfly i made from leaves... Okay. Take it. It’s an adepti amulet -- it staves off evil” because at the current point in his progress it helps him to feel like he’s allowed to do these things. Not wanting to put him off from progress, Venti never comments on his excuse but never fails to whisper a quick reminder of how proud he is of how far Xiao had come.

- Xiao’s karma saddens Venti greatly- not only because of how it effects Xiao but also because its a reminder that as much as Venti tries to honor the memory of those he’s killed, there will always be those who resent him for it, and when he took the option of living away from them, he truly can’t blame them. - And when he gets too wrapped up in thoughts, whether around this topic or similar ones or otherwise, eventually, he’ll hear the sound of a flute on the wind. It’s not divine by any means, but as his own wind connects him to the source, he gets the sentiment all the same. “What impact does one individual’s remaining wrath have on the present. You have done much to help the living in the present” the unspoken idea that Xiao has included himself in that statement, because now, with Venti’s help he’s beginning to learn just how to experience living for himself. 

- Venti’s form and Xiao’s mask are off limit topics though because if either mentions it the other will counter with the opposite and the mood will turn immediately bitter at the idea that both know that what they’re doing is destructive but neither are willing to change

- Venti who has different tells for negative feelings than most people because as much as he likes to pretend it is- this form isnt his, and Xiao who is able to identify those

- many fanfics and headcanons have Venti recognizing when Xiao is uncomfortable and getting him out of those situations. I see that and I love it but i raise you: - Venti taking Xiao to Mondstadt, careful that he doesn’t get to the point that he’s uncomfortable. And nothing goes wrong exactly, but Xiao notices the the way Venti’s cape is blowing in the wind, the way he’s holding his weight, barely on his feet so much as floating on the wind, connected with the ground only for the sake of appearance, all the while he looks just as happy go lucky as ever. And without a word, he grabs his hand and teleports them both out of Mondstadt.  - turns out it was just a slight thing that reminded him of the archon war (cuz i will die on the hill of him having more tragic backstory than just Decarabian), and he of course gives a sincere if not flustered thanks to Xiao, because he’s really not used to people noticing. 

- Venti trying to vent sneakily through fictional stories and Xiao is just like “Didn’t that basically happen to you” and Venti is just like “<_< shit”

- Venti once said affectionally that he wished he had met Xiao sooner and Xiao immediately and seriously shot it down by saying “If you had, I would have been forced to kill you” and both of them now stay up at night wondering who would have won that fight, not sure which result would have hurt more. (because honestly I have no idea who would win in that fight and that terrifies me- I like to think it would have been one of those legends that end with “and the fight persists to this day” or something along those lines)

- “How long have you been together?” “Adepti have no need for-” “1000+ years T^T how dare you deny our love” “O///O our...? ...useless”

- its disney- let me explain- i have this- i have this headcanon inspired by watching too many animatics- - so venti has a human form that isnt his- which he would have had to get used to moving in- and he’s a bard- - uh- anyway- as a third degree black belt in mixed martial arts, i can speak as an authority on this(not really an authority since i havent gone since quarantine but lets pretend). We have a thing referred to as the big three(most things do), and those things are martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. The idea is that they reflect really well off of each other and the best in any one category are good in all three. Timing, balance, form, discipline, technique, hand-eye coordination, grace, ease of motion, they all play a part- anyway-

- Venti taking Xiao’s prowess in martial arts and acrobatics and teaching him how to dance, and as someone who’s extremely skilled in the first two, the third comes easy to him, almost naturally. And it’s delicate and beautiful and lovely and it isn’t hurting anyone. And Venti points all these things out and more and despite how much Xiao insists that he feels ridiculous he truly does enjoy it and it goes a long way towards helping him form more healthy views of himself and his worth.  - Verr Goldett walked in on him once and made a joke about performing at the inn. unfortunately Venti was there and agreed on Xiao’s behalf before he could protest and- and it wasn’t as bad as Xiao thought it would be... he still wouldn’t do it again though without reason, but with good enough reasoning he could probably be convinced. 

- anyways point is he likes dancing to Venti’s songs and i just think that’s really cute - just picture the idea that all the animatics you see actually have the potential to be canon- ugh

- venti tries holding something out of Xiao’s reach since he’s taller and Xiao just fucking teleports 

- both need their space but when they dont, all they have to do is speak the other’s name and they’ll be there.

- and because i just had to.... love languages

- lets start with Xiao- i don’t think he’d view acts of service or quailty time as a love language tbh, and he blunt but really bad with words so affirmation is out, leaving gift giving and physical touch. However, he seems to view most material things as meaningless so- - Xiao who’s love language is in his fleeting touches, something he’s only recently grown comfortable with because of Venti, and now is giving back, which he knows he doesn’t have to do, but that he want’s to, though he’ll still continue to make excuses for each one. “you were shivering” “The inn is high up, you could have fallen..... I said what I said, you’d question an adeptus?”

- and as easy as it is to say words of affirmation for Venti- he does that for everyone- i want to say his is actually acts of service - its the acts of service that let him see just how much Xiao has progressed afterall, from teaching him to dance, to playing another song on the flute, to supplying him with the almond tofu he seems to enjoy so much. Every little thing he does helps Xiao to grow and he couldn’t be happier about that. 

-

- of course most of my headcanons for the ship do take place latter into the relationship because- y’know the less serious unhealthy vibes allow for greater range of thought, but i do still love to think about the serious implications so i kinda hopped back and forth. So sorry about how messy it is btw, i kinda- got carried away- it kinda got some kind of structure near the end tho so- maybe it’s okay. anyway- back to... lol something, we’ll see where thought forests lead.