#this also is perfect over the fact that my need for distraction has brought me to rewatch bridgerton

[fandom-blackhole]

Hi! If your doing the mash up thing

Can you do Boba, fennec and leia for prompts 1 and 32 please?

Of course my lovely! Thank you for sending these in <3

1) Historical AU 32) Pregnancy fic Pairings: Boba x Reader, Fennec x Reader, Leia x Reader (afab!gender/race neutral!reader)

Boba, Medieval (warnings- violence, also pregnancy not outright stated):

His lineage was contested by many. It was well known that his grandfather had once ruled a kingdom, that he was quite loved as well even though his reign was full of fighting and a war that ultimately cost him his kingdom and his life. His father disappeared after his own father's death, many believing that he followed his father to the grave as no one had seen him in quite some time. But then he appeared again, fathering a son of his own, but with no wife or mother in sight. So rumors flew, many stating he was a bastard boy and a disgrace to the name of Fett. Over time however, those whispers were quieted when Boba proved himself a dangerous adversary, when he became the knight you'd call upon when you needed someone found, when you needed someone disposed of. His price was high and many of the nobility called upon him, and while they sang praises of his work to his face, they turned their nose up at his name behind closed doors whispering pities about his parentage. He made it obvious that even if he did hear the cross words they didn't effect him, that he was higher than all of them and the words they passed around like breads at a Sunday mass. You knew of him only through rumors and second hand stories, your family high within society but not high enough to ever need his services yourself. It wasn't until you were called to be a lady-in-waiting for your cousin, a princess finally of age to start courting. You'd been living in the castle with her for a year when a proposal for her hand turned sour with allegations that the man had already fathered three children back in his own kingdom and when her father ended their courtship, the foreign prince in anger had sent assassins to kill your cousin, the plot only revealed when another of her lady's sipped from the wrong cup one afternoon and fell over dead mere moments later. After that a knight had been assigned to be with her at all times and the King sent for Boba Fett, desperate to rid of the paid assassins after his daughter. When he appeared he was everything the stories had said and more. Stoic with amber eyes and dark hair, scars healed over and intimidating. Many of the maids were scared of him, and none wanted to be the one to wait on him while in the castle, but for some reason you felt drawn to the quiet man, curious about him in a way you couldn't explain. Which is how you found yourself voluntarily becoming the one to bring him meals- he never ate with anyone, sending even you away after you put the food on the small table in his room for you to clean up the next morning, to fill his baths, and cater to his every need as the king had ordered. It seemed as his stay went on, you weren't the only one with a curiosity, his own making an appearance one evening after laying his dinner out, and as you opened your mouth to ask if he needed anything else before you left, he cut in, "Why is it, that the little lady-in-waiting of the princess is doing a maid's job?"

You looked up to meet his eyes, confused and surprised that he was actually speaking to you. "Because I was ordered to by my king, sir," your statement came out more like a question, of which you're sure he noticed, but as he poured himself a cup of wine, he huffed and it took you a second to recognize it for what is was, a laugh. Then after taking a long sip, he met your eyes and said, "Perhaps it's because everyone else is too scared to come near me. But not you, you aren't scared of me."

After that he excused you for the night, your mind racing as you made your way to your bed. And following that night, he spoke with you more often, his eyes sharp leaving you with the feeling that he was looking for something, something you're sure he found with each skip of your heart in your chest. Days passed and Boba did his job, finding and ridding the assassins after your cousin, until one evening he announced that he could find no trace of anymore assassins, that he would be moving on soon. Your heart had felt heavy at the news, feeling empty as you left your cousin's room one night after checking on her for the evening before you were to bring Boba his meal for the night. Your head had not been with you, thoughts a miles away when you passed a large open window and a sudden pain over took you and a force brought you to the ground, it took many seconds, if not a few minutes for your thoughts to come back to you and you found yourself sticky with a red liquid that you quickly realized was your own blood when your eyes focused on the arrow now protruding from your right shoulder. Your thoughts scattered as your consciousness felt foggy, only one thought clear in your mind, Boba. Some how you managed to get to your feet, white pain over taking your vision as your subconscious forced your forward, following the path you knew would take you to the safest place in the castle. You would later wonder how you didn't run into anyone else making your way to his room, but in the moment you could only feel sorry about the red trail you were no doubt leaving in your wake as you made it to Boba's room. When you got to the door all strength left you and your body collapsed everything fading, hearing nothing but ringing as you felt a soft golden light wash over you and concerned amber filled you vision as you finally succumbed to the dark.

When you awoke, you had been told that days had passed and that Boba had taken you to the physician before disappearing for a day and reappearing with hard look and fresh blood against his armor. He never came to where you were being kept, and when you were finally released you had assumed that he had just moved on, his job done so he left. But you were surprised to find him in your small room after returning from dinner, his eyes hungry, soaking in the life that had returned to you, a relief palpable in his shoulders when you smiled at him and thanked him for saving you. He turned to look out your window, the light fading in burnt oranges as the sun set. "Why did you come to my room, there had been several other doors you could have stopped and gotten help from, but you came to me. Why?"

It was your turn to look away, the floor becoming much easier to look at than him. "I'm not sure. I only knew that....that I had to make it to you.....that I would be safe with you."

You didn't look up for his reaction, for the first time scared of what you'd find. You listen as he takes a few steps, stopping in front of you, his finger moving under your chin, bringing you to look at him he says, "Don't start acting scared of me now little one. Not after everything."

Then you find him kissing you, slowly and with a different hunger than before, this one consuming and with a deep seeded need. He didn't leave you room that night as he held you in ways softer than you thought he was capable. After that night, he stated his intentions to your father the moment he could when your father visited a few months later. Your father wary of letting your hand to fall to a man that held nothing but controversy, but with the fact that Boba had saved your life, and you yourself seemingly happier than he had seen you in years he couldn't say no, especially with the suspicious way both your and Boba's hands tended to lingered on your lower stomach.

Fennec, Revolutionary War (warnings- mentions of spousal abuse):

Your husband was not a kind man, you did not love him, and it certainly wasn't your choice to marry him. Your father had been desperate with the rising tensions between the Brits and the colonists and wanting to be on the correct side of the fight when it broke out he secured you a husband with strong ties to England, and a lineage only a few removed from some big Duke. You were well off, lived in financial stability but your husband with each passing battle and each loss for the british took his anger out on you. Over time you found it best to just be as silent as a maid, never speak and be just as docile, only finding comfort among the kitchen, baking breads and sweets to share at the tea parties you were forced to attend and using the flour to try and hide the ugly bruises that formed along your skin, in denial that the house staff did not know about them if you could only hide them. As loss stacked up and the battles drew nearer, your husband found it fit to open your home to the crimson coated soldiers. You didn't necessarily hate having the other men in your home, some of the younger men were rather pleasant to you, sharing thanks as you brought them meals and fresh breads. The youngest of them, a boy barely 15 pulled at your heart strings as he barely got around with his injured left leg. He was sweet and funny and always had a smile, reminding you of a brother you lost many years ago making you slip him sweets you would not share with the other men. Unlike you husband, and although you showed kindness to the soldiers, your own morals sided with the colonists, smiling in secret with each win and news of General Washington's strategies curbing the oh so great red coated army, even when the news brought with it new bruises from your husband. Around the same time that a fresh way of soldiers were brought into your home, you found out the worst news second only to the news of your engagement, you were pregnant. Your husband was overjoyed, proud of himself, while still threating you telling you that you had better hoped that the child was a boy. You felt like a ghost floating around your own home, smiling falsely at the new men in your home, bowing your head when a high ranking officer joined the home. You stayed timid around everyone, your kindness to the troops went a bit stale as finding the strength to smile became harder and harder for you. You're small soldier boy found small ways to bring them out though and introduced you to one of the newer soldiers, a man he claimed to be better than the rest of the men in the house, someone he said was safe, like him. The new soldier gave off an air of confidence and easy smirks, he was....well beautiful, there was no other way to describe him, and your young soldier was right, he was safe. He felt safer than anyone else that you've met. Fen, as he asked you to call him became your closest confidant, you told him everything and as you grew closer you found yourself falling for him. A late fall evening you'd been walking around the grounds of your home when he found you, joining you on your walk. It was that night under the shade of the large oak near the pond that he told you the truth. Fen wasn't a man like you'd all been lead to believe, she was a spy from the colonist sneaking plans from the officer in your home. She told you that her full name was Fennec Shand, and that she was to be pulled from where she was hiding because they were close to figuring out her identity. Under the moon and stars she took you hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it, asking you to come with her when she left that night, and your heart full of this woman still, you nodded, and smiled whispering, "I would follow you anywhere, because you are the only person that I know I am completely safe with."

Leia, Regency (warning- spousal abandonment, Han Solo slander):

You were her first friend and her closest. You were there for her throughout her childhood and stood by her as you watched with an aching heart as Leia was courted by all manners of society the moment the two of you turned of age. You were there for her when she fell for the the hot head nobody, Han Solo. You stood to the side and watched as she lowered herself in society for a man you knew was not good enough for her. You tried to push away all ill feelings towards Solo, chalking your dislike of him to be jealousy as you buried your love for your best friend deeper and deeper into your heart. And as time went on things seemed to go smoothly, you watched from arms length and Leia seemed happy and truly that's all you could ask for, even as you resigned yourself to never marry, to live a life pining for a women you know you could never have, but she was happy and that meant so much more than your own happiness. Then came the announcement, Leia was pregnant and you couldn't help but feel her joy as she came to you the second she knew, sharing the news with a happy smile, as having a family had always been her dream. But things went downhill as apparently a family was not one of his own dreams. As the days grew in number he left Leia alone at home for work trips more and more and rumors spread of him drinking his days away in bars when he was home. Leia kept a brave face, she'd always been the strongest woman you've ever known, but alone with you she cracked, her sadness and frustration spilling from her as you tried to reassure her as she fell into your arms more and more. Until the day Solo disappeared into thin air, no note, no trace of him left, and your heart ached at the resigned air Leia took, still holding herself proudly. The two of you grew closer as you took it upon yourself to look after her as her pregnancy neared its end, taking care of her when the doctor put her on bedrest as things turned. You loved her through actions, never expressing your adoration, but more than content to be by her side, to love her closer than you ever dreamed possible. Then one night as you were sharing a warm meal, she turned to you with a serious but soft tone, "It should have been you, you know? I should have realized the it was you who I truly needed by my side forever. If you would, I would like to rectify this now. Stay. With me, with us. Forever."

[kaeichi]

love is in the air.

. . . and maybe that's why mikage reo can view the world with such clouded, pink-hued vision, and why nagi seishiro cannot breathe at all.

series. nagi + reader + reo. no gendered terms, but some implications of m! reader. reader likes boys. bestfriend! nagi. valentines/white day. highschool setting. swearing. humor. fluff & angst.

a/n. repost bc it wasnt showing up in tags T-T i js want a shoujo anime w these two as the MLs...

prev ┊ next ┊ 01 … 02 … 03

⊹ 01 : my dear partner [wc: 4.7k]

TWO YEARS AGO

“…dude. you're scaring all the hoes away.” 

nagi watches your lips move, though he barely registers anything you've been saying since he has stopped listening a while ago—which, honestly, comes as no surprise to anyone.

there’s no real reason to be so lethargic at this hour (it's already late noon, plus he surprisingly had a decent amount of sleep the previous night for once), nor the time to think about trivial things, but he can’t help but think about how exactly every single thing stopped being so bothersome like it used to.

he can't quite pinpoint what brought on this gradual change, but if he had to, then it’d probably be three springs ago—when he’d wake up a little earlier than usual to the gentle kiss of the sun through his window and the cherry blossoms were in perfect bloom. around that time is when he’d received his quiet companion choki, he’d finally scored top 1 in the leaderboards after months and months of grinding in his favorite mobile game, and… when you’d first sat next to him in middle school.

for as long as he remembers, you were simply just there. an unexpected oddity that has not only forced its way through, but has also wedged firmly into every aspect in his life. and somehow, he’d concluded that maybe some things weren't so bad—that some things weren't such a hassle to him after all.

“move, idiot. at this point you might as well hold my hand.” the snow-haired male barely hears your voice over his wandering thoughts, stumbling from the light shove you give him. he has now become acutely aware of your swinging hand, wary of the close proximity and the faint buzz of static that lingers on his skin. huh. maybe it is better to move away.

still, he’d rather not reposition himself. it’s too much work, he’d like to reason, and it's certainly not because of anything else… maybe. he doesn't really know for sure. what he does know though, is that the space beside him suddenly feels strangely empty. 

when he looks at you to see a pout forming on your lips, he can't help but sigh. you're being unreasonable. there's something that's been nagging his curiosity for a while now, and it took him quite a bit to realize what it is.

“seishirooo,” you whined one day, allowing your head to sink against his mattress, taking up nearly the whole space while nagi sits at the corner of the bed. you came over to his place that day to bother him, stating that you needed some comfort because apparently, “no one ever looks at me. i feel so damn invisible.” he shrugged and offered you his controller, challenging you to a 1v1 with him as a distraction.

“…but i look at you all the time?” he replied.

“yeah, but that's different.” and he would've asked you to elaborate more, if not for the fact that you've been horribly vague about it when he does ask, and the perpetually sleepy gamer only has so much patience before he gives up and decides it's something not worth spending his energy on.

besides, you're always emotional like that. this was probably just another one of your fleeting phases.

it's not until he notices you've been longingly gazing at the couples on the campus, quietly seething under your breath that it finally clicks. now, he may not have the greatest understanding when it comes to feelings and all its complexities, but even he can tell you’re reeking with jealousy.

despite being pushed off only seconds ago, nagi shuffles closer again as he falls into step beside you. even if sparks prick his skin, it feels right in this way. “dunno why you ‘need’ hoes when you already have me.”

“just because i'm into guys doesn’t mean that i like you in that way,” you mutter, sending him an odd glance like you thought there’s something wrong with his head for even suggesting that. not knowing how to respond, he settles for staring right back without a word. 

“what's with that look? you know what i mean, seishiro.” you continue, averting your gaze from him. what look? he asks internally. “it's just, well, literally everyone is getting into relationships. and i know we're still first years, but… it just feels like i’m missing out, y’know? 

“do you really? sounds like a hassle to me,” he shrugs, and it truly does—he never saw the appeal of dumb crushes, of drama nearly every day, of possible unrequited “love,” or of wasting half your time and energy on someone just for it to not mean anything at all in the end. video games sound way more fun, and way less heartbreak inducing.

“you can't say that when you haven’t even experienced it,” you argue, still pouting.

“it’s overrated anyways. being single is better.”

“hah! of course you’d say that, you virgin.” 

“you’re one to talk,” nagi boredly quips. “i’m celibate purely by choice, but you on the other hand… if you really think about it, you're basically an incel.”

nearly choking on your spit, you exclaim, “hah?!”

“you don't even really talk to other guys except for me, and on top of that, you're barely approached by anybody,” he explains in a matter-of-fact tone, oblivious to the way his best friend’s confidence waning rapidly by the second the more he speaks.

“yeah? and who’s fault is it, you cockblocker!” 

nagi simply sticks a tongue out as you flip him off.

right after that, the two of you ended up breaking into a sprint as you heard the clicking sound of heels walking on the tiles around the corner, not wanting to get caught for skipping classes. well, you ran, and just dragged him by the wrist. he felt the warmth of your fingers even through the thick barrier of his baggy sleeve.

PRESENT

you try not to trip and fall face first as a cold hand guides you through the crowded hallway.

it's embarrassing enough as it is to be rushing through the middle of the corridor and pushing past the bodies of random students like you're a main character or some sort, but even more so when the (apparently) most popular guy of the campus that you’ve (never) seen is walking right in front of you.

and it gets even more humiliating when said popular guy has taken hostage of your wrist, leading you away to a more secluded area. shocked, harsh whispers echo throughout nearly the whole floor, and multiple eyes shoot daggers at the fingers wrapped around the sleeve of your uniform, and you’ve never wanted to bury yourself alive more than this moment.

after rounding a corner into a miraculously empty hallway, you finally skid to a stop, yanking your hand away, ready to pounce at the culprit who made you go through all that unnecessary attention. however, before you can get a word in, the refined male bows his head low in front of you, and you find yourself face-to-face with sleek purple locks.

“i’m sorry, but i have no time for dating. i’m really flattered, though. i hope we can stay friends still.” he hurriedly says, hope gleaming in his matching purple eyes.

…what. 

who is he again? and why is he rejecting you?

for some reason, you find the stranger’s gaze too bright that you have to look away; so you do exactly that, tilting your chin downwards instead and letting your hair mask your expression.

after a few beats of silence, he clears his throat. “i'm really sorry, it hurts me to see you look so down… i’m sure we can put this behind us and—”

“nice shoes,” you interrupt, still not raising your head to meet his now confused stare. “i can tell you really love wearing them, judging by the busted, worn out stitches. hey, is it just me or is that prada logo kinda wonky too?”

the male's jaw drops down nearly all the way to the floor.

“pardon me?” he says through gritted teeth, keeping his composure by flashing his usual award-winning smile, albeit a lot more stiffer. “i know i just rejected you, but you don't have to be so hostile…” 

when you finally raise your head, your expression can only be described as terribly and solemnly unamused, unimpressed beyond words.

then, you suddenly lean closer, peering closely into his violet irises with thoughtful hum. an unwilling flush of red creeps on the tips of the boy’s ears, his eyes widening comically at the sudden intrusion of space. “you’ll do,” nodding to yourself, you now grab his wrist and pull him away. “come.”

“w-wait, huh? where are we go—” 

“you're the one who made me late. let's go!”

reo isn't quite sure why he's the one being dragged away now.

he has only initially planned to gently turn down the person who last confessed to him, whose family just so happened to be related to his father’s business partners—but now he somehow finds himself on a whole date with that person? (the same one who brazenly insulted him by implying his shoes are fake, by the way!)

“i have other plans today, you know…” the heir says, subtly trying to inch away from you.

you tug him back by his sleeve, with twice as much force than he had used on you earlier. “i can imagine, my dear partner.”

“w-what?” reo stutters, and he's cringes at himself for how he's acting at the moment. the usually composed and charming mikage reo, now reduced to a stuttering and blushing mess? how embarrassing.

“normally my best friend would do this with me, but he slept in today.” leave it to seishiro to leave me all alone on the day that actually matters, you irritatedly mutter under your breath. “well, whatever. come on.”

as you and him enter the packed bubble tea shop, the fingers that were wrapped around his sleeve slides down to interlace with reo’s own clammy ones. he realizes this a second too late, and before he has the chance to let go, the clerk by the entrance greets them with an enthusiastic “welcome, lovebirds!”

“huh?!” reo’s jaw slackens, dumbfounded. he’s really starting to hate himself now—it's unbecoming of him, really, but it's hard to process everything when you're so close to him that the scent of your shampoo keeps invading his senses and subsequently messing with his head.

“here’s your special tickets for today. thank you for participating, and happy valentines!” you drag him straight to the back, where the colorful claw machines are set up. reo catches a glimpse of the pink posters set up on the walls of the quaint shop, which reads: couples get free special tickets! today only! …ah. that's why he's here.

“aoi-san… you're gripping too tight,” he says, gritting his teeth together into a forced smile. 

“aoi?” you repeat, your grip finally loosening until you let go entirely. “huh… i see. by the way, what's your name again?”

needless to say, the purple-haired male is beyond perplexed. “is this your unique attempt at a joke or something?”

“come on, rich boy. we've held hands and i don’t even know your name!” 

“right… which i totally wasn't being forced to do…” he lets out an awkward laugh. sure, some admirers of his tend to get a tad excessive, but they were never able to get far with him, much less forcibly drag him out on a date—and it's not even because they want him to spend his unlimited budget on them and spoil them rotten, but just so they can get… a free special ticket for a claw machine. how did he end up getting in this bizarre situation? more importantly, how does he get out?

you simply shrug. “your fault, rich boy. you should try thinking about anyone other than yourself for once.”

“excuse me?” he narrows his eyes, slightly peeved. he's had enough of your rude attitude; potential business partner or not, he hopes that he never has to interact with you again in the future. “stop calling me that. i have a name, and it's mikage reo.”

the way your eyes widen doesn't go unnoticed by him. “and what did you even mean by that?” he presses defensively.

you plop down on the seat, with reo mirroring you as you insert the rouge ticket decorated with pink hearts into the slot of the claw machine. “well, mikage reo. i’m sure you're aware how aoi’s family is important, right?”

yeah, this person is definitely a weirdo, reo muses. who refers to themselves in third person?

“i heard they had connections everywhere… just like you. it's crucial to maintain a good relationship with someone like that, right?” you conclude—that would explain why reo had taken the time to personally talk to “aoi” one-on-one instead of just flat out rejecting them on the spot.

reo tilts his head to the side. “i’m not following…?”

“mikage.” you emphasize, looking at him straight in the eye before turning your attention back to playing. “i’m saying that the poor kid’s still waiting for an answer. your heartfelt and sincere rejection, to be exact.”

a few seconds of silence pass. well, as silent as it can be with the loud chattering of the crowd and the mechanical whirrs of the claw machine you're currently messing with resounding in the air.

“you mean, you're not…” reo trails off, all color draining from his face. “i’m so, so sorr—”

“aoi’s the one you should apologize to, not me. oh, i got a double! how lucky.” you eagerly grab the prize, the limited edition valentine’s merch exclusive to this boba shop; a plushie collectible that comes with a redeemable code for your favorite video game. you want to collect all of them, but you’re broke as hell and you’re only here due to the free ticket. turning to reo, you shove the second plushie to his chest. “here, this is for you. since you did help me out with getting these.”

“ah, thank you…” reo absentmindedly accepts the small toy, still reeling on how he could make such a careless mistake. “listen, i do apologize—”

“i wonder how'd you even mix us up. is it ‘cause we have the same hair color?” you ask, slightly amused because aside from that, you and aoi look nothing alike. your fingers tap on the surface of the control panel, observing reo’s shame-stricken visage. “or maybe… is it because everyone just looks the same to you?”

at that moment, mikage reo realizes two things: (1) maybe he's more transparent and vulnerable than he thinks, and (2) you're dangerous, and it's better to stay far, far away from you. how could you see right through him so quickly? what if that's something you'll use against him?

he doesn't like to admit it, but it's true—in his perspective, everyone's the same. they're just after him for money and status, and at some point, they've all just become faceless, superficial pawns vying for his attention.

and of course, you’re no exemption.

noticing he’s gone quiet, you continue, “but i guess if my world was as vast as yours, i couldn't possibly keep up with everything either, so i get it. i’m not saying i’m in the same situation as you, but i can kind of relate, i guess. i only keep the ones who's important to me close, and the rest just exist and do whatever. i’m selective, but in that way, at least i can give my all to the ones that really matter.”

reo closes his mouth shut. here you are casually saying that you don't matter to him, and while that isn't a lie in the slightest, he still can't help but feel guilty. maybe it's just the people-pleaser in him, or maybe it’s the way the corners of your lips are slightly quirked up and to form a miniscule, accepting smile, but he wants to reassure you, “still, i’m sure you feel that—”

“i don’t.” you don't mind that he didn't know you, because you didn't even know him either—there’s no reason for you to take it personal. you’d be a hypocrite otherwise. “i really don’t.”

you smile at him. he thinks it's out of understanding, but unbeknownst to him you're actually just entertained by how his inner turmoil is so clearly reflected on his expression. “so don’t worry about it. plus, we’re even now.” you add, gesturing towards the prize.

hopping off the stool, you wave at him as you start to walk away. “...happy valentines. i'll see you around, mikage. maybe. er, probably not.”

“wait!” he hurriedly jumps off the stool as well, clutching the plushie in his hand as he follows after you. “i… let me drive you home.” the words stumble out before he even realizes what he's saying. you're probably just using him, and you're dangerous, and you see right through him, and he should stop wasting his time because his actual valentine's date is probably three seconds away from storming out the restaurant he's booked at—

so why is he doing this?

“drive?” you repeat, because of course he’d have a driver. damn rich people, you think internally. “nuh uh. it's like a ten minute walk, and i’d rather save the environment.”

“then i’ll walk with you.”

“you do realize i’m done dragging you for the day, right?” you quirk a brow up, amused; you could've sworn he was itching to get the hell away half an hour ago. “you're free. you can go home if you want.”

reo smiles, a more genial one this time. “i know.”

“so, you into popular guys now?” 

“hell no.”

nagi narrows his eyes at you. “you’re just into reo, then?” 

while you expected to be grilled first thing in the morning by random people about your apparent relationship with mikage reo (to which you simply replied, “i don’t know who that is, sorry,” and proceeded to run away), you didn't expect to be interrogated by your apathetic best friend as well. 

usually, nagi prefers to be completely silent during the 1st period (and actually all the way through lunch), not bothering to utter more than a few words, but today, he seems uncharacteristically on edge, waiting for you at the corner of the gym with a wrinkle between his brows.

“why are you on a first name basis with him?”

“everyone calls him reo.” he shrugs. “why him?”

“i never said i was into him.”

“then what's all that partner thing about?” he asks, which confuses you a bit. you doubt that reo would go around announcing to everyone how you teasingly called him ‘partner’ and practically dragged him to a date against his will, but it's not like him and nagi are close either, so you wonder where nagi has heard this information from. then, you suddenly recall back to yesterday, where you saw the curtain of your neighbor’s bedroom window swinging side-to-side, as if it was drawn close a mere second before you looked up. 

it seems that your mind wasn't playing tricks with you after all, and that a certain someone was eavesdropping on your conversation with reo as he walked you to your door.

“fake partners, you mean? and it was a just a joke—i met him that day.”

“that day? why are you acting so close if you've just met that day?”

“you're awfully talkative today, seishiro.” 

“i know. it's making me exhausted, and it's all your fault.” he then presses his weight against you, leaning his forehead on your shoulder—as he always does when he's tired and you're within reach. your eyes widen immediately, darting around the gymnasium to see if any of your classmates has noticed.

you don't want people to get the wrong idea about you two. it's not because it kills your chances with anyone due to the assumption that you aren't single (which you still very much are, by the way), or even because of potential issues of being a two-timer due to a certain rich boy—it's just that whenever you get asked if you and your best friend are together, you can't help but flinch from the idea, like ice is being poured inside the back of your shirt. you don’t really know what to call it, but you do know that you've answered the question a hundred times and you're positively sick of it.

“i told you to stop doing this in public,” you hiss, trying to push the giant, clingy sloth off you. “and stop whining, nagi. i’m not going anywhere. besides, i’m not even looking for a relationship or anything like that. not after… you know, what happened during our first year.”

he lifts his head up, frowning at you. “don’t call me nagi. just ‘cause you met a new guy doesn't mean you get to call me nagi.” 

you raise an unimpressed brow. what’s his problem? “only if you stop whining.” 

“…‘m not.” he slurs his words together, only proving your point.

“yes you are!”

“why do you have to be so annoying? you're such a pain,” he sighs, now walking away from you.

“i'm the annoying one?! and don't call me a pain, you—!” without hesitation, you promptly snatch a red ball from the steel ball cart beside you before swinging your arm at him, slamming the dodgeball right to his head. well, you tried to, at least; even with his back facing towards you, nagi only takes one step to the side to avoid it.

“your shitty aim sucks balls,” the tall male comments unenthusiastically, his white fringe falling over his eyes as he gazes at you over his shoulder. his nonchalance only spurs you on, now hauling multiple dodgeballs at him.

“how about you suck my ba—”

“give it up already. you're never gonna hit me.” and nagi actually has the audacity to yawn mid-dodge. of course, it only fuels your irritation even more. you eventually run out of balls to throw, so you mindlessly grab the nearest object to your right and chuck that as well.

…which unfortunately, happens to be nagi’s phone that he's snuck inside the gym, peeking under a face towel on the bench.

“oh, fu—” 

because of your (rightfully) so-called shitty aim, it swung way up high to the left, a few steps away from nagi. in less than a second, he realizes what you have flung at him, and his body moves instinctively; he throws himself towards it, swinging his leg upward and trapping it with his foot with perfect ease before it has the chance to plummet down on the floor.

“why are you making me move so much…” he sighs. “what a pain.” 

“you’re supposed to move anyways, we're in PE. you're welcome,” you smugly reason out. and then not even a second later you fold, shoulders curling inwards as you glance toward his phone; if it weren't for his godly reflexes, you would've broken it. with a small voice, you meekly add, “sorry.”

nagi shrugs in response.

when he saunters over to place his phone on the bench again, a silver glint catches your eye. a small charm swings lightly, small beads of white and black strung haphazardly together attached to the side of his phone case.

“wait, this is…” a phone charm crafted by hand, which is your birthday present for him four years ago. “i didnt know you still had that.”

“why wouldn't i?”

“where was it this whole time? this wasn't here a few days ago.”

“i just kept it in my drawer ‘cause i don’t wanna lose it.”

tilting your head to the side, you ask, “so why'd you suddenly decide to attach it to your phone now?”

he looks away, scratching the back of his neck. “…dunno.” 

eyes dropping into slits, you mutter, “you know, that kinda sounds sus—”

“hey! that was amazing! nagi, right? you should play soccer with me!”

nagi and yourself both turn to the direction of the sudden voice, seeing a familiar figure running towards you, vivid purple eyes gleaming under the gymnasium’s stark white lights.

“mikage?” you exclaim.

ever so slightly, nagi sharpens his usual droopy eyes. “nah.” he immediately says, turning on his heel.

“seishiro? wait, weren't you supposed to be looking for a club?”

“don’t really care.” you follow him, lightly jogging to keep up. as soon as you catch up by his side, the taller male glances at you as he asks, “will you join too?”

is he seriously asking you that… “no?”

“then i won't.” nagi concludes as he continues to walk away from reo.

“hey, wait up!” reo calls out, placing a hand on your shoulder. “ah, i was completely shut down��� say, will you help me convince him?”

your brows shoot up as your gaze flicks down where he's casually touching you. after your initial confusion of who he is yesterday, you then recognize him after learning his name—the most popular boy in school, known for his good looks, charisma, and most especially, his wealth. he gets along well with literally everyone, and acts genuinely close with them even if they aren't.

“uh, why should i?”

“remember that limited edition merch you like? i can get you the rest of the collection. in fact, i’ll even buy out the whole place just for you.”

“wha– seriously?” you feel your eye twitch. damn rich people. “it was limited edition. they all ran out of stock already.”

“i have my ways.” well, that's not shady at all. he flashes a grin at your skepticism, winking at you, “anything for my partner.”

and you now understand why he's earned his title. this is probably how he always gets what he wants—with a smile like that, anyone would drop to their knees and do whatever he’d ask. two years ago, you would've keeled over for attention like this, but now, you're nothing but indifferent.

he places his hands on both of your shoulders now, completely stopping you from taking off. wide violet eyes scrutinize your own, making you scrunch your nose at the close proximity. “shouldn't you be begging him and not me?”

“yeah, but...” reo swears he feels an air of animosity radiating from the white-haired male, and that's why he has decided to turn you instead. “you wouldn't leave your partner hanging, right? as partners, we help each other out, riiiight?” he says, dragging his words out.

you lean as far as you physically can from his grip, but he doesn't seem to care, excitedly looking at you with stars evident in his eyes. “mikage, you—” he smiles at you, bright and blinding, and you find yourself withering under his intense gaze. “okay, fine, just—”

“well, that's settled then! they’re joining the club too, nagi seishiro. they can be our manager.” you briefly wonder why he didn't outright offer to have you join the team, but he probably saw how you threw the dodgeballs earlier… though it's not like you have to use your hands in soccer, so what the hell, this is kind of insulting.

“says who, mikage?”

“you're gonna come watch all our games?” he negotiates.

“why don’t you offer that i join the team?”

“ahahaha. haha. hah.” he laughs awkwardly, swinging an arm around your shoulder and ultimately evading your question.

because you were too busy trying to shrug him off, you miss the way nagi’s eyes zero on to reo’s arm around you, wordlessly observing the whole interaction with his lips pressed taut.

you still don’t know why reo hasn't moved away; he's so close that you can see the dark amethyst specks in his irises, the long strands that frame his face are lightly tickling your cheek, and if you lean in even just an inch, you can practically—

“you said anything i want, right?” your voice drops to a low whisper, and reo nods slowly, still seemingly oblivious to the lack of space between you.

“then... what if i said i wanted a kiss?”

reo’s smile drops immediately, recoiling away from you as if you've slapped him, his whole entire face heating up all the way to the tips of his ears. finally out of his grasp, you erupt into boisterous laughter, shaking your head as you leave the flustered boy alone and catching up to nagi.

likes/reblogs/feedback appreciated ♡

[nekrosdolly]

chemtrails over the research facility (18+).

sry for spam posting! butttt i wrote this over thanksgiving and i realized it would be perfect to post here! the wesker brainrot is real. also this is one of my first times writing sex stuff so pointers + criticisms are always welcome! (also this has punctuation and proper capitalisation wowww!! go kori)

cw; dubcon due to non-verbal consent, boss/employee relationships, obsessed/possessive wesker, delusional wesker kinda, eventual smut (p in v), afab reader, unsafe sex, breeding kink, minor stalking, creep wesker.

petnames (reader received); dearest

Aesthetically, you're the perfect match. His skin next to yours- ethereal. Utterly divine. But it seems that, between the two of you, only he notices. 

He's the head researcher. He should have your attention, but unfortunately, you're a good worker. You're diligent and focused- no time for being distracted by him, even if he is your boss. In fact, you're not distracted by anyone. Countless attempts at small talk he's made and yet you, you brilliant thing, don't even care. 

"How is your research going?" He'll ask when he sees you in the break room. He always keeps his distance professional, lest there be an HR report to be filed later. 

You always reply, simply out of politeness. You look at him, those hypnotic eyes of yours and the intoxicating smell of your skin and the pheromones lying beneath it.

"Fine," you'd say, or maybe a "wonderfully, Dr. Wesker," if you're feeling exceptionally affectionate. Hearing your voice- like silk on his ears- is enough to make him rock hard. His slacks tighten by a few degrees and he's thankful his labcoat is buttoned to cover himself. 

That, of course, is the end of your conversations, but never the end of his obsessive thoughts. When he goes home to his apartment, sleek and well-decorated given the money he gets from Umbrella, he makes haste towards his bedroom. He doesn't waste time with foreplay for himself- doesn't need to as he's still hard from earlier- before getting himself off rather hastily. 

In retrospect, if you were here, he would take his time with you. He'd learn ever nook and cranny to make you gasp, whine, and moan his name over and over until it's engraved on your tongue and in his brain. He'd fuck you slowly, pushing the head of his cock past the ring of your entrance and watch your face when the rest of him slips in. 

It's easy because you let it be easy- your legs spread wide so he can watch himself go in and out. His nerves would be aflame, his heart racing, and yet you'd always bring him back. You'd coo his name and tug him down by his hair to kiss you. Cool the flames burning beneath his skin, even as he draws closer. 

"Finish inside me." You'd whisper against his lips, your nails digging into his back. Blood dribbles to the surface of the fresh wounds and the gentle pain tips him over the edge. He cums harder than he ever has and it's all for you. 

You'd murmur praise in his ear, how good it feels to be filled with his cum. How you hope it sticks. He hopes so, too. 

After all, you two would make the ideal child. The ideal specimen - the perfect race.

When he's brought back to reality- unsatisfying and too harsh to really enjoy most days- he's partially disgusted with himself. He's never felt like this towards anyone except his ex-wife, and even then it wasn't to this degree. 

Not to mention that this little breeding fantasy of his is the most tame one he's ever had. It surprises him at times, too, when they pop up in his head and the... darkness of it all.

He's your boss. He could, hypothetically, ruin your career for turning him down. Maybe he never would in all actuality, but it is nice to imagine. He thinks about your lips around him, tears running down your face from him purposefully choking you a few times. 

He cleans himself up and changes into his pajamas for the night. He skips the shower only because he'll probably spend half of it thinking of you again, and let's face it, he'd be up for much longer trying to track down your location if that happened. Brainless and horny, he would be, not realizing how easy it would be to find your location in Umbrella's file archives.

When he's at work the next day, all he does is stare at you behind those useless sunglasses he wears. You walk into the room and you have his undying attention. He's lucky he's so in control of his body. His face would be a tomato otherwise. 

It is when you look at him, when your eyes find his behind his sunglasses and he forgets how to breathe for a moment. When you invade his personal space for just a moment and give him a half-smile and say "Hi, Dr. Wesker. It's nice to see you today."

If only you knew what he would do in a room with just you in it. 

In his typical fashion, he nods at you and greets you in return. For a split second he swears there's color on those cheeks but you're gone before he can look again, and asking you to look at him would raise suspicions. Besides, you don't need him distracting you. 

He does anyway, forgoing his better instincts for this one ounce of primality within him. 

He approaches you when you're packing up. It's the end of your shift here and you look tired, like you need someone to lean on- Stress relief, in the most innocent way. He doesn't touch you yet, but he does ask you to come to his office.

You do. He's your boss, someone who you look up to whether or not you show it. And honestly, it's not like his presence is unwelcome. Or yours.

He closes the door behind you and locks it. Now that concerns you.

"Dr. Wesker?" You look up at him, those pretty eyes conveying so much fear that he aches to soothe.

"Don't worry, dearest." He cups your jaw and smoothes his thumb over your cheek, relishing the feeling of your soft skin. Were you a specimen, he'd never dissect you. He'd preserve you and take you home, put you on a shelf, and stare for hours at you. Not unlike what he does now.

You are only slightly soothed by this before you're creeped out. This feels unlike something the Dr. Wesker you know would do. Of course, he's handsome. Conventionally attractive. You never paid attention to him like that, but now, it doesn't feel like there's much of a choice. 

He hums at your compliance, watching as you melt into his hand and wrap your own hand around his oddly muscled forearm. For a scientist, he's... fit? His thumb trails over your lips and his senses light on fire at the softness of them.

You kiss the pad of his thumb and his reaction is one you won't soon forget- his face flushed bright pink at the action, one that indicates how long he's wanted this. You treasure it, despite the circumstances. 

His other hand finds your waist and pulls you closer, his head ducking down to kiss you softly. 

"Innocent" stress relief. That's what this was supposed to be.

His hands are surprisingly soft when he handles you. He never yanks or pulls, which is nice in comparison to your previous partners. He caresses your breasts through your shirt and revels in the way your breathing becomes shaky, a shudder running down your spine. He can smell the arousal poisoning the air and it's not long before he walks you back against his desk, lifting you by the hips to place you on it like you're some doll.

You feel like one. He treats you like a prize to be had. He unbuttons your shirt just enough to reveal your bra and even though he wants you fully naked, he knows it's a bad idea- less easy to cover up should someone walk in. He bites his bottom lip, cups your breasts through the thin lace bralette, and thumbs over your nipples as he listens for your reaction. He decides that it's his favorite noise, your gentle moan caused by him of all people. 

He continues. He rolls them between his thumb and index finger, his breathing growing heavy and his cock stiff. It would be his main focus if you weren't right there, your lips parted, brows knitted and eyes locked on his hands.

"Dr. Wesker-" You lean into his hands, your legs parting in what he takes as a welcoming action.

"Albert, dearest. Call me Albert, please." His eyes flick up to yours, the tips of his ears red as is the rest of him. 

"Albert- God, I-I love your hands..." You sigh quietly, your voice heavenly. If he wasn't already fully hard, he would be.

One of his hands, the dextrous and pale things, pushes your skirt up past your underwear so it rests bunched up around your waist and out of the way. The sodden spot of wetness on the middle of your underwear garners his attention without really trying and his oddly cold finger comes to trail across it. He's barely touching you, sure, but it sends a wave of fire through him to know you're wet because of him, not someone else.

He looks at your panties like he wants to eat you alive. Part of him does. But he's on a mission, albeit a very unhealthy and twisted one, so he doesn't bother. Rather, he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit through your panties and rubs in tight, small circles.

It's ethereal, the way you seem to relax under his touch once he starts playing with your clit. You grow a tad louder, keeping in your hazy mind that you're in an office space still, and your boss is salivating over your cunt. You buck your hips with low effort and whine, betraying what you really want- his dick inside you.

He gets the memo, and yet, he takes his time rubbing that drool-worthy spot on your pretty pussy. He's doing this on purpose. He wants you to be totally, utterly dumb on his cock and this is one of the easier ways to go about it. He plants a few gentle kisses along your collarbone, muttering soft praises into your skin like a prayer he hopes you'll hear.

You do. Every word from his lips causes your insides to flutter, your entrance to clench around nothing. Pulsating in desire. It would be enough to get you on your knees in any other circumstance, yet you get the feeling he doesn't want that.

He tells you how pretty you are. Murmurs how gorgeous you look all the time, how long he's been wanting this, and how you're going to look stuffed with his cock. You shudder as an orgasm rolls through you, your legs shaking and hips spasming in a desperate attempt to chase the fleeting feeling of ecstasy.

He doesn't wait any longer. His hands leave your form and unbutton his slacks, shoving them halfway down his thighs. Like the rest of him, his dick is alabaster. Pale with cool undertones you don't care enough about to analyze further. You're too distracted with the fact that you're about to get fucked presumably within an inch of your life. You push the center of your panties aside.

While that is mostly true, he could never be rough with you. He takes your hips and guides his leaking cock to your entrance. He looks up at you once for permission, and when you nod, he plunges in. 

So maybe he allowed himself to be rough with you for just that one moment. He stills, allowing you ample time to adjust before you're telling him that it's okay for him to move, that you can take it. His blood roars in his ears.

He's never been so ecstatic. Your velvetine walls around his cock, the way you moan his name as he starts to thrust rather shallowly, gently- it's all-encompassing. He's careful- cautious not to hurt you or bruise you, let alone leave any evidence behind that this happened. Except, his fingertips dig into your hips with a vice grip, a tell you're sure he's unaware of. The subtle grunts of pleasure leaking from his lips, your own moans flooding the silence. 

When he grows more bold that he won't hurt you, he thrusts into you a little harder and infinitely deeper than before- he wants you to miss this. He wants to mold your pussy to only ever fit his cock, to ensure that anyone else is unsatisfactory. He wants to come home and have you there, ready and willing whenever he likes. Of course, that last part is unrealistic. He would never treat you with such disrespect. 

You're more sensitive now, one orgasm deep and an impressively thick dick bringing you ever closer to another impending orgasm. He's trying so hard to not lose his composure and you do appreciate that. He's strong, even if he doesn't show it, and that fact does scare you to some degree. His blonde brows are knitted together, his pale pink lips parted and his breathing is oh-so heavy. He's staring down at the point where your entrance meets his dick, only encouraging him to fill you up with his cum.

You want him to. 

"Albert," you reach a hand up to tangle in his perfectly slicked back blonde hair, "you can cum inside me, you know. I-I don't mind." 

He nods, hardly able to speak other than grunt and groan his pleasure. And then he angles his hips a certain way, causing his dick to rub against that spongy spot inside you that makes your vision blur with pleasure, and you nearly cry. 

He knows what that did. He can tell just by the look on your face, the same one he's imagined for about a year or so.

"Do that again," you murmur, bringing his face close to yours and pressing your forehead to his. "Please."

He does. All he's ever wanted was to make you feel good and now he's got the chance to. He hits that same spot repeatedly, just hoping you'll moan his name when you cum. His thrusts become somewhat sloppy, though he's still pleasing you, mostly because he's getting close. Your cunt clenches around him, inviting him to keep thrusting until he's braindead and primal.

"I'm close, dearest." He says through more desperate moans, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. Not seconds after, you feel hot sticky fluid filling you and it's enough to push you over the edge again, your cunt pulsing around him as you moan his name. 

When all is said and done, he pulls out and kneels before you to watch his cum drip out and pool on the edge of his desk. 

"Tsk. I'm afraid we can't let this go to waste." He gathers the spilled seed from his desk on his fingers and pushes it back inside you, deeper this time to ensure it really stays.

You squirm a little and whimper. You hadn't expected him to do that, but you also never considered yourself to be on his radar.

"Um. Right. Well, I'm going to go." You return to that cold, closed off demeanor from earlier. The one he hates. But he understands and gets to his feet again, allowing you ample room to fix your clothing.

The smarter man in him is proud he never left a bruise on you. The lesser, more inhumane part curses him for not fucking you in the break room for anyone to see. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dr. Wesker." You give him a half-smile as you unlock his office door and make your exit. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs quietly. He stuffs himself into his pants again and zips up his fly before gathering his things and heading out.

He follows you home. Tails you, rather, so he knows you're safe. Definitely not so he can write your address down and come in when you're not home. Not so he can steal a pair of your panties to cherish. Absolutely not. 

Albert Wesker is more dignified than that. Or, that's what he tells himself when he goes home, your panties tucked in his pocket. 

[moghedien]

Your post about how Shiz was Nessa’s time to shine only for her to be reduced to a bit player because of the dyke drama between Elphaba and Glinda killed me dead. And your tag inspired me to think that if Elphaba and Glinda had ever gotten together and Elphaba had brought Glinda home as her gf, Frex wouldn’t approve of their relationship not bc of homophobia but because he couldn’t accept the fact that Glinda chose his hated elder daughter over his perfect younger daughter. He’d be all “Glinda, I’d love to call you my daughter in law. Just not if it’s Elphaba you’re married to”

Honestly i don’t agree

Glinda is way too high energy, perky and seemingly self absorbed, he wouldn’t want her near Nessa because she’d either “corrupt” Nessa in some way that would damage her future career as the governor or she would take attention away from Nessa and he obviously thinks that Nessa needs all of the attention in the room at any given time, regardless if Nessa wants it or not. Boq is passive, easily bullied, and doesn’t seem to have much aspirations of his own, so he’s not a threat to Nessarose’s future. Glinda would be.

Elphaba, on the other hand, he views as a disaster who can’t stop making a spectacle of herself so if she shows up with someone who also can’t stop making a spectacle of herself and who has Elphaba’s attention so much that their spectacles are mostly just centered around each other and can easily be ignored by others because they’re just trying to get each other’s attention, her dad would be thanking the unnamed god that it was Elphaba and not Nessa that Glinda got weirdly attached to for some reason.

Someone who can both distract Elphaba enough that she isn’t his problem and who can also take attention away from her when she’s causing a scene? It’s all he ever wanted

[ovobawrites]

𝐵𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽: 𝐸𝓅𝒾𝓈𝑜𝒹𝑒 𝐸𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 ♡ 𝐹𝒷𝑜𝓎𝓈 𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓎𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓈

disclaimer: this has already been posted on ao3 and quotev, i'm just reposting this beach episode special as a promo for the fic. after this is all my previous author notes.

this is a fem!reader and also a half chinese!reader insert.

previous ♡ next

It took thirty minutes for you, Ruggie and Silver to convince Malleus that lifting up the villa was not, in fact, a good idea. It didn't help that Leona kept egging him on, smug grin on his face as Ruggie glared at him. Lilia was no help at all, too busy finding amusement in the chaos, while Kalim simply watched everything go down with a bright smile on his face. Too bright. Just what did he want with that boulder?

Jamil kept an eye on Kalim with a wary look, but seemed distracted enough by Azul and Idia's pain. You think you saw him smile when Azul was moved to tears by the crushed sandcastle. You took the opportunity to get closer to Kalim, and tilted your head imploringly when he made eye contact. 

"Hm? There's nothing to worry about (Y/N)!" He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I just wanted to see how big this boulder was! Plus, it was sooo cool when Malleus brought it over with his magic!"

He was definitely up to something. "Why do you need a boulder?" You confronted him, straightforward enough to catch him off guard. "Is it for a prank of some sort?"

Kalim paled at that. The last prank that went down in NRC was... something to say the least. Riddle still hasn't uncollared that one brave Heartslabyul boy who participated in it. "No! Never!" He looked around nervously. "How could I after... that incident?!"

"So it isn't something completely foolhardy, then?"

He chuckled at that. "Nope! I just wanted to prepare a surprise for everyone." Kalim's bright smile morphed into a much softer, kinder, real expression. "Everyone's been getting along so well... so I figured I might as well do something to celebrate!"

You could see why. You still were shocked that Riddle hadn't tried to kill Floyd in his sleep yet. Or that Azul hadn't been tossed into the ocean by Jamil. Or that Rook and Leona and Malleus hadn't gotten into a blowout fight-

Okay, so maybe your brother was right when he said that your friends were completely dysfunctional a week back. 

You nodded slowly, implying agreement to Kalim, and resolved to distract everyone else from what he was doing. "Do you want to move it somewhere else for now? So that you can prepare, whatever it is, in secret?"

Kalim brightened up at that. "That'd be perfect, thanks! Maybe we should get Malleus to-"

He popped up next to the two of you immediately, eyes glowing with subtle pride. "Do the two of you require me for a task?"

Kalim nodded excitedly and started to animatedly describe what he wanted Malleus to do for him, complete with rapid motions and hand gestures. Everyone else was too distracted to notice, thankfully. Leona and Ruggie were laughing amongst themselves, sly looks on the pair's faces. Vil, Rook and Cater were still distracted by their photoshoot. And Lilia was carrying a sleeping Silver while trying to help Idia and Azul resolve their differences enough to rebuild their sandcastle. Ortho had moved off to talk to Jade about the meal prep, most likely. And the splashing from the water was definitely Riddle being almost drowned by Floyd. Poor Trey.

"Oh- that's right! (Y/N), wanna come help us out?" Kalim turned to you, Malleus and him pleadingly staring with begging eyes for you to join them.

"Sure." You smiled placidly, mind spinning with thoughts and predictions and-

Malleus placed a hand on your shoulder and Kalim grabbed your hand. "Shall we depart?"

"Yeah, let's start!"

It was. An effort. On your part that is. Usually Kalim and Malleus's excitement wouldn't have had you so off kilter but... You weren't at your best today. That was all. 

"Then we just need to trim this part down here and-" Kalim wiped the sweat off his brow. "We'll be finished for today! This is gonna be so cool!"

You nodded absentmindly, floating with the help of Malleus's magic to chisel down the part he just pointed out. "I think we should cover it in some sort of sealant or resin though." You remarked absentmindedly. "I'm afraid the stone might be too soft and our work will be washed away by the water."

"There is no need for worry," Malleus smiled, "I have all ready casted a spell that should mitigate the effects of any of the natural world."

"It won't be too much of a drain on you?" Kalim fretted, "I don't wanna knock you out! You've already helped so much Malleus and-"

"This is nothing to me, Kalim. Fret not." Malleus said in reply, lowering you to the ground with a wave of his pen.

"Thank you." You nodded at him and brushed the dust off of you. "We must leave now. Before the others get suspicious." You reminded Kalim and Malleus gently. 

"Right!" Kalim hissed at that, "Jamil's probably gonna kill me- oh god."

"Then we better start to hurry." You smiled, and then a thought. "Race you there!"

A laugh and you were off, blind to Kalim and Malleus's shocked and joyful smiles behind you. Laughter bubbling up as they chased you down the shore to the group.

"Catch me if you can Zhìzhi[1]!" A childish laugh and the patter of footsteps down the long hallway. Servants moving to the side, silent as always while the chase ensued.

"You can run, but you can't hide sister!" A burst of speed and a shriek of joy. A warm hug and rough hands messing up your hair.

"Hey- wait that's not fair!" Kalim laughed, bright and cheerful. "You got a headstart!"

"There you are," Jamil raised an eyebrow at Kalim, preparing to scold him if necessary. "what were you doing?"

You sighed. Looks like you were gonna have to take the lead on this one. Neither Malleus nor Kalim could lie very well, and Kalim's nervous laughs were not helping to assuage whatever Jamil's suspicions were. 

"We were just seeing how strong Malleus's magic is!" You remarked in a lilting voice, swaying to and fro with your arms behind your back. "We wanted to see him drop boulders into the water to create some big waves and..."

"We didn't want to risk Riddle drowning if we did it over here!" Kalim chimed in, looking awfully proud of himself.

"Are... are you implying I'm short?" Riddle started slowly, already starting to flush a violent red.

"Hm? No?" Kalim tilted his head. "I just thought, 'cause Jade and Floyd can breathe underwater they'd be fine. And I-" He paused for less than a second, unnoticed by everyone but you. "I wouldn't put it past Floyd to drown you..." He looked away for a second at that, hiding the glimpse of the smile that threatened to spread across his face. Redirection was Kalim's specialty, after all.

"Sea Otter's right~" Floyd threw an arm over Riddle's head, using him as an armrest. "I would totally let Goldfishie sleep with the fishes." 

Jade grinned. "Maybe don't reveal your intentions so early into the game, Floyd." 

The two laughed amongst themselves, turning into straight up howling when Riddle launched himself at Floyd in an effort to pound him into the ground. It did not work, only forcing Trey and Cater to try to temper their Housewarden's mood once more. You turned your head away from the scene, a complex mix of feelings flooding your chest. Muddy browns made from greens, reds and blues made your heart pulse painfully.

You walked away from the scene to instead inspect the sandcastle Idia and Azul made. It was sprawling in magnitude, elaborate with each detail planned to the t. Something about the temporary state it lived in made the structure even more beautiful. Before you knew it, you had unintentionally crouched down to look upon the tiny city the two had made.

"I-it's amazing, isn't it." Idia stuttered for a moment, avoiding eye contact, hair tinged pink. "You know, I based the entire thing off of the map from Star Rogue. It's this old game Ortho and I used to play and-"

Azul interjected Idia's rambling, smirk on his face. "Please, Idia. Would it kill you to stop such long winded rants? Don't you think (Y/N) is more interested in the process of making this, anyways? She is a student of the arts."

"Oh, I don't mind listening to his rambles," you remarked offhandedly. "I enjoy listening to what Idia's passionate about." You moved in closer to the small town, an unbidden smile on your face from the remarkable care put into the piece. "...I think it's rather striking how you made such a beautiful piece, all while aware of the futility of it all. Tomorrow, this sandcastle will be knocked down by winds and the night, yet you built it anyways. It's a wonderful example of how, at the end of the day, the only thing that separates us from animals is our desire to create. To make something so meaningless, simply because you wanted to," You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, glancing up at the two boys with a warm gaze. "I think it's rather lovely."

"I-it's a s-sand empire actually-y" Idia choked out, hair weaving pink trails of light in the darkening evening. He reached for the hood of his pale blue sleeveless hoodie with shaking hands, fiddling with the strings. A small smile on his face.

Azul blinked, the tips of his ears a deep red. He opened his mouth uselessly, flapping it like a fish before simply walking away with a muffled shriek. The tweels rushing over to him at his embarrassment like sharks to blood.

"Oh- sorry, sand empire." You blinked, a little shocked at their reactions. 

Idia looked away in reply, hair still in that shade of fuchsia. But he still leant down to offer you a hand up. 

You took the proffered hand, slightly bashful from the look Idia was giving you. It was an intense stare, only present when you looked away from him. You think you might be...

No. You can't afford it right now. Or ever.

You still held his hand for the entire walk back.

The group had walked back to the villa for showers, leaving only Jade and Ortho to prepare the food of the night. After last night's fiasco, it was a welcome change. Not even Leona had a negative quip when the two chefs left for the kitchen, though that might have been from Ruggie's stern glare. And so you all parted ways, though you couldn't help but miss Idia's hand in yours.

Even if your isolated dorm had running water and working showers, it couldn't compare to the luxury of these bathrooms. Seems Crowley really splurged on this villa. How kind of him!

But you had heard rumors of him wanting to go on this trip himself, held back by only the mountain of paperwork he needed to complete.

That might explain why Crewel was so ecstatic about the trip. The staff likely held a raffle of some sort, you knew Trein would have killed to be in Crewel's place.

You snickered at that thought, toweling your hair softly and finishing up your nighttime routine. It'd only been an hour since the group had gotten back, but you still wanted to know how Jade and Ortho's cooking was going. You wanted to see the harmony present from Trey's morning cooking. You had no doubt the two would practically dance around the kitchens and- 

You missed Zhìháo, just a little. 

Even when you had turned 10, Zhìháo 14, you had still cooked and baked together. It wasn't as filled with childish chatter like before, your mother had made sure of that. But the silence was comforting nonetheless. Something about simply existing with the one person you'd ever loved in the room was just perfect. It had filled you with blooming pink and yellow flowers, hummingbirds and butterflies buzzing in your stomach to create a warmth that you could only ever attribute to this nebulous feeling of home. You had wanted to stay with him, in your private little sanctuary. Just the two of you, together, until the end of time.

(It didn't last forever, though.

At some point, when you had turned 13 Jiànhóng had joined you both, when he wasn't busy with paperwork and his own retainer duties. He'd lightly bump Zhìháo's shoulder and laugh loudly when there was a smear of flour on his liege's face. Jiànhóng would teach you how to cook french toast[2], the streetfood greasy from oils and the peanut sauce. Yet it had still been the happiest moments in your life. Eating horribly unhealthy food. Just you and your two brothers. The only family you've ever known.

And then-)

You shook the memory from your head, not wanting to dredge in those dreadful days. Instead, you walked down the stairs and went to enter the kitchens. 

Whirring from the ventilation fans and from Ortho's cooling system could be heard from the bottom of the staircase. But the noise was overwhelmed by tense voices, raising in volume, only interrupted by the dinging of egg-timers and the clanging of pans. 

This probably wasn't good.

You slowly walked into the kitchen, making sure your footsteps could be heard as you peeked past the door frame to see Jade and Ortho. The two of them were obviously upset, Ortho making snipping comments at Jade who retorted with cutting remarks. While Ortho's anger was clear from the red flames, Jade's was only belied by his strong grip on the cooking utensils, practically bending pan handles and spatulas. It was almost funny, but the anger had you scared.

Sure, NRC was filled with testosterone and the fury of the students within, but something about seeing your friends truly angry, to the point where they looked ready to snap and hurt those around them-

It had a black snake coiling in your guts.

You had stood there, frozen and pale (unnoticeably so, the jade of your mask containing not even one crack) until you were noticed by Ortho. 

"Oh! (Y/N)!" He brightened up immediately, hair turning back to its usual blue. "What are you doing here? Did you come over to help?"

You smiled placidly. "I'd like to, but I doubt I'd be of any help. But, forgive me if this is too forwards, is something wrong? You and Jade seem rather-"

"Nothing's-" Jade lowered his voice at the slight flinch you had made from the yell. "Nothing is wrong, Ortho and I... simply disagree on a few things."

"It's not my fault you're mathematically inferior to me, the numbers prove it!" Ortho pouted and crossed his arms, "Besides, if you had just listened to me-"

"Maybe you should listen to the experienced chef, hm?" Jade interjected, hand on chest while the other seemed to have tightened its grip on the pan.

"And maybe you should listen to the chef with more knowledge!" Ortho replied snappishly. 

Jade opened his mouth to retort but you cut him off, injecting just the slightest hint of timidity in your voice. "What were you two disagreeing on, exactly?"

"Cooking techniques." The two spoke mulishly in unison, glaring at each other. Ortho jumped at a timer going off and returned to a pan on the stove top right by Jade.

"I see." You didn't. "But how come you two are both so angry?"

"I'd be calmer if there wasn't this tinny, robotic voice in my ear critiquing my every move." Jade spat out in a rare display of true frustration.

You turned to look disapprovingly at Ortho. "Ortho, is this true?"

He shrank back a little, looking put off. "Well- yes but," he gathered up confidence and raised his voice once more. "Jade kept on ignoring my suggestions for meals and told me to just follow his lead! I want a chance to cook something other than Mostro Lounge recipes-"

"Well, you can do that on your own time. Preferably far away from me-"

"Anyways why should I listen to someone who can't even baste properly-"

"Not that you even need to cook for yourself as someone who doesn't even have tastebuds-"

"Well at least I can-"

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. You were going to get a headache from this fighting. "How about... the two of you compromise?"

They both snapped their heads towards you, fierce looks on both of their faces. 

"No way!"

"Absolutely not."

"How could I collaborate with a creep like-"

"This child can't even-"

"Enough." You didn't raise your voice, but there was no need to. The two froze just from your tone alone. "Either compromise or have one work on the main course and the other on appetizers and desserts."

"...I wanna do desserts!"

"I'll gladly work on the main course, then."

Figures neither of them could even force a compromise. NRC boys. No matter. It wasn't your job to teach them how to work together anyways. You walked out of the kitchen and settled on the couch.

"(Y/N), you look... haggard." Vil looked up from his phone, face mask on while he lay down on the couch opposite you.

"Jade and Ortho don't get along well at all." You groaned, "Surprising, no?"

He stared at you flatly. "You thought two people from different dorms would get along?"

You giggled at that. "Well- I had hoped-"

"The first step is to not hope at all. Keep your expectations low." He glanced back at his phone and tapped on the screen for a moment before focusing his attention solely on you. "But that's not all that's bothering you, is it?"

You almost snapped to attention at that, the only thing stopping you being months of training on composure and masks. "Hm? What makes you say that?"

"I'm an actor, remember?" Vil sniffed disapprovingly. "Besides, you have a crease between your brows."

"Oh, I didn't realise," You looked away, off into the distance as you considered what to say, scratching your arm. "It was merely a bad memory, that's all."

Vil's stare pinned you to the couch, a warmth in it similair to the passion of the sun. "Do you want to talk about it? It apparently helps with," He finger quoted, "bad memories."

You didn't know what to say. You couldn't talk about it and even if you wanted to it was-

"You don't have to, you know. Just say no." Vil jolted you from your thoughts. His brows furrowed in slight worry before he smoothed his expression out once more. "It was a suggestion, you don't need to."

You nodded stiltedly. You hadn't realised how affected you were by the thought of that time. Even now it rested in the back of your mind, a viper ready to strike.

"Listen," Vil sighed. "You don't have to tell me what's going on with you- would you rather I talk about something to distract you from," he gestured his hand up and down at your form. "whatever is bothering you?"

"I-" Your voice almost broke and your throat felt thick, tongue heavy. "I'd appreciate that."

Vil stared at you appraisingly for a moment, searching for something you didn't know of. He looked satisfied when he found it and then launched into an elaborate rant featuring the problems with makeup brands, celebrity endorsements and... Neige? Whoever that was. But either way, his soothing voice helped to calm you down, matching your shaky breathing to the rhythm of his speech and-

Eventually you locked those thoughts away. The nails against your arm soon turned into a comforting rub of hand against raw skin. And in that moment, you once more wished for a forever that would never stay.

[1] Zhìzhi here is just a cute nickname (y/n) used when they were younger. very childish but it was theirs? you know. [2] So chinese french toast (that's the name I know it by) is a fried bread sandwich sort of thing? Stuffed with this salty peanut paste sauce and coated in condensed milk. It's absolutely delicious and a comfort food for me! Even though it's really greasy and probably super unhealthy haha...

Mini Theatre Jamil: Wait where's Kalim- Azul: NOOOO THE SANDCASTLE Idia: NOT AGAINNNNNN Jamil: Nevermind, I've got more pressing things to pay attention to Silver, in a pile of sand: Oh, did I fall asleep again?

Idia and (Y/N)'s relationship is essentially: Idia, ranting passionately about some game franchise while (Y/N) is nodding along and either resting against his shoulder or drawing Couple goals lol

and here is the eighth part of the beach ep. if you'd like to read the rest of the fic, you can read it on ao3 here, and on quotev here.

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

I know Jay has a history withDan Cody but I cannot for the life of me remember much about that man other than the fact that he died at see. If that is true, would Jay, after acquiring wealth, make a tombstone for him? Place flowers and such? Or would he bury that part of him. The past of him and Dan Cody?

Putting this under readmore because it's gonna be a doozy. Spoilers for Gatsby as well

Okay so. One thing I will remind you of is that Jay never really intended for anyone to know about Dan. His only remnant of the man is that one photograph and he hung it up on the wall in his bedroom, where I'm sure he never expected anyone to see it, at least not to a point where he'd have to explain. I don't think Jay was exactly bringing home anybody to his bedroom (until he got back with Daisy, of course)

Remember when Jay had Nick and Daisy over, and they noticed the photo of Dan (and the one of Jay from the same time), he brushed over it pretty fast. Told Nick that Dan used to be 'his best friend' and that he was dead now, and the moment Daisy latched on to that, he instantly distracted her with his weird ass scrapbooks. It wasn't until after everything blew up in his face that Jay told Nick, and only Nick, about everything.

Obviously for Gatsby I explore their relationship much further. I personally believe (through my years of research into Jay's characterization through the various drafts of this book and the original version of Absolution where it becomes clear that men of a certain persuasion think very much of Jay's good looks, even when he was too young to be viewed as attractive to any healthy person.

Dan was of course an unhealthy man. We know for a fact that he was an alcoholic, and that he was violent but Jay had put it past him/possibly forgiven him if not simply tucked the trauma away so he didn't have to inspect it (chapter nine, "...only the picture of Dan Cody, a token of forgotten violence, staring down from the wall.") That particular quote could simply refer to the violence of the Old West that Dan brought with him, but given again Absolution and Jay's constant involvement with powerful, violent older men, and his desperate pursuit of a woman like Daisy who he presumed to be soft and sweet and totally unable to hurt him, (thus making the irony of the situation that much worse when she contributes however unintentionally to his death) I believe it also refers to the violence Dan inflicted upon Jay during those five years aboard the Tuolomee.

Obviously I have my own opinions about things like Jay's sexuality and why he was so twisted up and obsessive and desperate. Much of what I believe is taken directly from fact and stretched out through interpolation of those facts, looked through a modern lens to an image of masculinity in the years Fitzgerald wrote the books. I think Jay was gay, slipped himself into a sexuality of convenience to further his ideal of a Perfect American Man, and had his wires crossed by his father's behavior so that he searched out a father that loved him—only to be met with another monster who only saw value in him when he gave up his own humanity.

Dan was, of course, that monster. In Gatsby, once we get to 1922, Jay will be wholeheartedly unable to confront the true nature of his relationship with that man. He spent so long believing it was purely romantic and that he had 'cured' Dan of his alcoholism by being good and loving someone who needed to be loved just like he did (with that notion of reciprocating saviorship following him through every other failed relationship not just through Daisy—trying to save her from having to be married off to someone she doesn't love but really just trying to undo the fact that that had, in a way, been done to him—but even to Nick, who is so unable to face himself until, possibly, when it's too late and Jay is dead) that by then, after so many years of his notion of love being clouded by want of Daisy, he's constantly on the cusp of admitting to himself that Dan abused him and he'd 'submitted to it' but he cannot fully accept that fact because if Dan didn't love him, and Daisy doesn't love him, and Nick never will—why the fuck is he even bothering?

Dan has a monument. A beautiful one, actually. A big marble tomb on the grounds of the home he used to share with Ella Kaye, bounded on each side by young willows and seasonal flowers and a plaque written by the woman who would have been his wife. The woman who killed him. Jay got to visit it just once, and spoke with Ella about what happened and why she took Dan from him, and he doesn't want to understand her reasoning because then he has to admit that he had it infinitely worse than her and never had the guts to admit it to himself. Never did anything about it. That tomb—it's a monument to his cowardice, to every opportunity he passed up in his desperation to find someone who loved him.

The photo is enough. Dan still shares a room with him just like he's still there in every 'old sport' and he's always there with his hands on Jay's shoulders any time he goes out on the hydroplane. Some things never change. Jay never stops being 17 and desperate. Nothing went wrong.

The photo is enough.

...

Also, Dan didn't die at sea. He died in Boston, likely either onboard the Tuolomee in the Harbor or, as I assumed, in the city, and Jay wasn't informed because no one knew Dan had left anyone but Ella behind.

[date-a-jew-suggestions]

looked at the notes for the post you reblogged "A brief History of Mizrahi Jews in Arabic countries and Their expulsion" and was a little sickened by all the comments saying "see this is why we need Israel cause you fuckers are forgetting Jewish history." genuine question because it's something i grapple with myself every day as a jew. but how can we convince others in our community that our suffering is not the Most Special, the Most Noble, that our suffering does not give us the right to exact the same thing on another population of people? I feel like talking to other jews sometimes, both online and offline, they genuinely don't understand that other people can experience hardship, and they say things that make me think they've grown up being taught we're the only people in the whole world who have ever suffered?? sorry if this got a little rambly i just... needed to get my thoughts out ig

Sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for a while, but you brought up an interesting point. I think it’s a problem within most marginalized communities. Because of the hardships we have faced, sometimes we are overly defensive of our in-group, and we dismiss, downplay, or even excuse injustices happening to other communities. Like for example, think how many times you’ve seen white gay people talk over people of color because they seem to think that homophobia is the “truest” form of oppression, and that talking about racism “distracts from the real problems.”

Jews are not exempt from falling victim to this mentality. Jews are just people, and people can be wrong, or cruel, or immoral. In every community there are going to be bad people, and people who are willing to look the other way. It’s a fact of life.

However, I do not believe that the burden is on you to “fix” the Jewish community. Obviously it’s good to try to bring people over where you can, but you are never going to convince every Jew to be ideologically perfect. There will always be people in every community who say or do bad things. You should not feel guilty about this, because you are only responsible for your own actions. Do not internalize the idea that Jews are a monolith, you are not responsible for the actions of other Jews.

As Jews we should be proud that our community has a long tradition of activism and standing up to injustice, and we are often at the forefront of social progress. That is an intrinsic value of our teachings, whether or not each individual Jew abides by that. And many, many Jews around the world ARE speaking up about the atrocities committed by the Israeli government. Many are also having their hearts and minds changed because of how much publicity there’s been around Palestine recently, and how a lot of previous misinformation about Israel is being challenged.

I hope this made sense and wasn’t too rambly, but basically just. Don’t put the weight of other people’s actions on your own shoulders

[eddysocs]

The Tie That Binds Us — Chapter Nine (Looking Toward The Future)

Summary: Harper makes some strides in her personal life, and she has a big question for Olivia.

Word Count: 1,347

Warnings: None

The two days Harper spent with Olivia were some of the most peaceful she’d experienced in years, and perhaps the only peace she’d gotten since Hannah's death. As Monday morning rolled around, and Harper had to go back into the confines of Liberty High, it got her thinking. What if it could always be like this? Certainly it wouldn’t be perfect, it wouldn’t fix everything, but at least her home life could be good. And she was eighteen. There was no law against her packing up her things and leaving her childhood home behind.

Of course, that brought up the fact that she had nowhere to go. That wasn’t entirely true. Olivia was welcoming enough, but spending a weekend was far different from moving in on a more permanent basis. Olivia having her over was probably a good distraction, but if she were there all the time, would it weigh on Olivia, having her daughter's best friend as a constant reminder? She wanted to ask Olivia if she could stay longer, but the last thing she wanted to do was make things worse for her in the long run. Harper shook her head, trying to push the thoughts to the background for now. She had the school day to get through before she did anything about her living situation.

Her first stop was the guidance counselor, thankfully not Mr. Porter. She had been assigned to Mrs. Antilly, and she wanted to test out of Liberty High. She was more than ready to leave this place behind, and she was going to take whatever steps she could to do that. She was told it would take a couple of weeks to get all the materials together for the test, but that gave her time to study. Not that she felt she needed it, but it wouldn’t hurt to brush up, she supposed.

Two weeks. That was something she could handle. A countdown of sorts. And so it begun. Harper kept her head down for most of her allotted two weeks, the first flying by, and the second dragging along as if it would never cease to end entirely. She kept up her efforts with Clay, still mostly hellos and waves as they passed in the halls. She was at least getting a smile out of him now, though he still seemed haunted. She wondered if she should speak to him.

Finally, the time came, and she was called down to Mrs. Antilly's office to collect her testing materials. At least, that’s what she hoped, but it wasn’t quite that simple. "Seeing as it’s so late in the day," her counselor explained, "I’ll have you take the test bright and early Monday morning. It will probably take up most of your day, but with your grades, I don’t expect it to be too strenuous. You just come in, come right down here to my office and I’ll monitor your test for the as long as it takes you. Sound good?"

She would have preferred taking it right away, but the wait wouldn’t be too much longer, so she merely nodded. "Very good. I'll see you Monday, Miss Cassidy."

Harper began the walk back to class, but the bell was about to ring, so she slowed her pace and milked it until the bell rang and she could grab her bag and go. Monday would be her last day at Liberty, and it couldn’t come soon enough.

Just as she was coming up to her locker, Tony caught up to her. "Hey, haven’t seen you much these past two weeks. What’s been going on?"

"I'm about to be free of this place is what’s going on. Testing out on Monday."

"Congrats," Tony said, clapping her on the back.

"I’m also asking Olivia if I can move in with her this weekend," she said.

"Wow, that’s big. You mean it? You don’t think—"

"Tony, I’ve thought of every possibility there is to think of, and I figure it’s worth a shot. I’m going to ask her to be honest with me, and if she says no, then it ends there. But I love it there, with her, I—"

"Harper," Tony admonished, lowering his voice so they were less likely to be overheard. "Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Olivia is great and all, and certainly a better choice to live with than your mom, but I'm just afraid you might be…getting a little too involved."

Harper opened her mouth with the intent of contradicting him, but he did have a point. She liked Olivia, maybe a little more than she should, and it hadn’t been the first time she’d toyed with the idea of them ending up as something more than friends, or confidants, or whatever it was that they were now. She had no idea what Olivia would even think of that, so whatever she may daydream about sometimes, it remained unsaid.

"I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing," she finally told Tony.

"Okay, if you’re sure. Good luck."

And with that she was off to Olivia's. When she arrived, Harper heaved a sigh, dropping her bag to the floor. It had been a long day. She could have just gone home, crawled into bed and hoped for a decent weekend, but going home would have only made things worse.

"Harper, is that you," Olivia asked, sounding as if she were several rooms away. Harper wandered closer to the sound of her voice, finding her standing in the kitchen.

"Why, were you expecting someone else," she teased, but her heart wasn’t fully in it.

"Bad day," Olivia questioned, skimming over Harper's attempt at a joke, and getting right to the heart of the matter.

"Just long. I couldn’t leave that place fast enough. On Monday I’m testing out, so hopefully, after next week, I’ll be done with Liberty High."

"Well you know you’re welcome to stay here if you’d rather not go home. We could watch a movie, have some popcorn, try to forget everything for a couple of hours."

"I think that’d be good," Harper agreed.

As the two settled in for another classic romcom and a bowl of popcorn, Olivia rested her arm on the back of the couch, just barely skimming over Harper's shoulder. She could get used to this routine, but she wasn’t sure she could let it go on if she had to leave for somewhere else. If Olivia didn’t want her to stay, then she’d be breaking her own heart, and possibly Olivia’s by pulling a disappearing act.

"Olivia, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Olivia replied, her mouth half full of popcorn.

Harper braced herself. She didn’t plan on doing this now, but what better time than the present, right? She readjusted her position so she could be face to face with Olivia before asking her question. "I need you to be honest with me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings or anything. Just give me your sincere answer."

"God Harper, what is it? You’re starting to scare me."

"Would you like it if I moved in here with you, like permanently?"

Olivia blinked back at her for a moment, and Harper realized she must have caught her completely off guard. Still, waiting for her answer was agonizing.

"I— would you really want to do that? I would love to have you here full time. First with Hannah and now Andy...I hate being here alone."

"Then I’ll stay. Like, for real. For good."

"For good? Aren’t you planning to go off to college?"

"I’ve applied to a couple, mostly local. I plan on finishing my application to NYU. It’s where Hannah wanted to go. I thought I should at least try, for her." At that, Olivia teared up, a sad smile appearing and Harper reached out and hugged her. When Olivia put her arms around her, Harper thought there was no better place in the world than this. If this was what her future looked like, then she was ready to embrace it, whatever challenges may come.

🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶

Chapter Eight <- 🩶 -> Chapter Ten

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @immyowndefender

Harper Cassidy: @megandaisy9, @boobear729, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @freshmoneyalmondathlete

[mintys-musings]

ACTUALLY IT'S PREVIOUS ANON WAIT. What do you think their first time was like

waaaaaaaaugh ;u; it makes me so happy knowing people like my himeniki stuff ~ I’m very normal about them.

In fact— I’m so normal that when I was writing my response, I realized I was getting too specific for it to be a ramble, but anything less didn’t feel right. So... I ended up just writing a really long one shot... ^^;;; (sowwy nsfw week also hit me so uhh this got pushed aside a lil) Just to be clear— I do think in terms of Niki ships, if HiMERU is involved, he would be Niki’s first. Yes this includes HiMERinNiki. If he isn’t involved and it’s a monogamous ship, it’s whoever Niki is shipped with.

I’m very sorry. I had too many thoughts for it to be contained to a casual ramble. nonnie feel free to ask me for anything else I prommy i will properly respond and it wont take 200 years.

Anyway :)

Hold Me Tight, Love (or that time HiMERU did what "HiMERU" actually wanted for once)

Summary: HiMERU just wanted some fresh air. Niki wanted to keep him company

Tags: inexperienced!Niki, blowjobs, there is penetration, talk of HiMERU’s eating habits (just to be safe- also its not in depth), barely lightly proofread but mostly pure instinct on my end, hand holding

Word Count: 4000 (if you just wanna read the smut part skip to where theres a ~~~)

NSFW under cut~

Whenever his unit finished a performance in the Bee Hive, HiMERU couldn’t help but think that the club lived up to its name as he watched the swaths of people that packed the venue.

Having a regular venue to perform at brought comfort to all of the Bees— Whether any of them wanted to admit it or not. Plus, all that rapport they’ve built up so far has granted the idols some special privileges other places could not. One of those being a little room to themselves on the second floor overlooking the first. No one could see in through the glass from the bottom, but they could see out. A perfect hideaway.

Another?

“Kyahaha! Job well done, Bees! Let’s eat!”

Rinne’s loud proclamation was accompanied by him flicking a shot glass of soju into a mug of beer.

Food and drinks (non-alcoholic and alcoholic alike) covered the table in front of the idols. Yes. The unit was not only well compensated for their performances, but also well fed.

Once the green light was put up, mostly everyone dug in. Niki was already chewing on the club’s offerings of yakitori and fried gyoza like he hadn’t snuck granola bars on stage to eat between sets. Kohaku was trying to get his plate away from Rinne, who stacked spicy chicken wings on it so he “doesn’t get them mixed up with the normal ones.”

The only one not as ravenous or lively was, of course, HiMERU. The blue-haired man just sat there, sipping on a can of cola. He had already had his fair share of food this afternoon when Niki had invited him to try out some new dishes he had come up with. Despite HiMERU’s plans to only sample one small sliver of food, he had ended up eating a full course meal without realizing. Quite the problem for someone like HiMERU who tended to follow a meal plan. As a way to balance his sudden deviation, he held back on dinner for tonight.

It can’t be helped, I suppose. Shiina’s cooking is hard to pass up.

His golden eyes shifted to the chef in question. Niki was downing an unreasonable amount of gyoza, at the moment, eyes glued to the oldest and youngest member of the unit bickering away over whether peppercorns were spicy. For once, Niki wasn’t the one going toe to toe with Rinne about a food related matter. It was almost comical, really.

As everyone was distracted, HiMERU took this opportunity to get some much needed fresh air. The sounds of music were clear in that small hideaway for only a brief moment as he snuck out of the door. It didn’t benefit HiMERU to stick around the entire time, no. But he would only be a few minutes. He had been around the others all day and in this building for a non-insignificant amount of time just preparing for the live. He needed air. He needed some peace.

The crisp, night air hit his face as soon as he opened the side door to the Bee Hive. He closed the heavy door behind him and leaned against the railing of the few steps that bled into the back alley. It was nice to get some alone time. Something as precious as that was hard to come by for HiMERU— Especially at and around ES where he was bound to run into someone who knew “HiMERU” and would need to act accordingly. He took a few deep breaths and stared at weathered brick wall in front of him.

A few minutes. And he would go back to the others.

Click.

“There you are~!”

HiMERU whipped around as soon as he heard the door open, only to be met with sharp, blue eyes staring back at him.

Niki closed the door behind him as he stepped onto the tiny landing. In his hand was the very plate he was eating from earlier, now with only a few sticks of yakitori.

“You weren’t eating with the rest of us... Was it Rinne-kun? I understand how atmosphere might affect appetite.” Niki stood next to HiMERU, offering up the plate. “... It’s grilled. I’m sure you know that. But the glaze itself is pretty light so it won’t sit in your stomach uncomfortably when you sleep.”

Whenever someone stared at HiMERU so expectantly, it was hard for him to really push them away. And in the time he has gotten to know Niki, HiMERU has become rather weak for the chef in particular.

With a soft smile and a sigh, he took one of the skewers from the plate. “Thank you, Shiina,” he said, “HiMERU just needed some fresh air.”

“Ah~ What a relief. I was worried, y’know? We just finished a live so our body needs some energy. Even if it’s kinda late. You still use up calories in your sleep, after all~”

Niki smiled up at HiMERU. To HiMERU’s surprise, Niki didn’t look like he was just going to hand over the plate and leave.

HiMERU tilted his head at the chef. “HiMERU is aware of that. You should head inside, though. It’s cold out.”

“Eh? But I came here to share food with you.” It was as simple as that to Niki. He leaned up against the railing as well, balancing the plate precariously on the metal pole.

So much for HiMERU’s alone time. But it was fine. Niki made for good company.

Swept up in light chatter, the unit mates ate the remaining sticks of grilled chicken. Well— Niki ate most of it. HiMERU still got at least two down before Niki’s own instincts took over. HiMERU watched Niki go on about a new brine he wanted to test on some leftover meat in the cafeteria, his eyes wandering across his face with a mild curiosity. He studies his features as he spoke, drifting to Niki’s more cat-like eyes and down to his lips that were stained from the glaze. He even had a stray bit of meat left on the corner of his lips.

Most of the culinary jargon went over HiMERU’s head, if he was honest, but it was endearing to see Niki so passionate.

Everything about the chef, really, was endearing to HiMERU. Though in the beginning, he found Niki’s lack of care towards his own duties as an idol rather troublesome, by now HiMERU had gained a new perspective on it. He even respected how he managed to juggle being both a chef and an idol even when one was forced upon him by the man they call a leader. It was an interesting feat. HiMERU wondered if Niki would agree.

And it wasn’t like Niki was bad at being an idol. If anything, HiMERU would call him a near natural if it wasn’t for Niki’s lack of an internal counter when dancing. Niki had practically everything else though. The vocals, the sheer charisma— God, the charisma— Niki’s charm took HiMERU by surprise every time they hopped on stage togeth—

“HiMERU-kun?”

“Hm?” He blinked slowly, like a cat might. “Yes?”

“You’re staring.”

The softness of Niki’s voice pulled HiMERU to the present. He stood up a bit straighter and cleared his throat. He hadn’t realized he had let his guard down so much he started zoning out.

“Aha...~ Sorry. I must’ve been talking too much—“

“No. Not at all.” HiMERU was quick to shut down any self-deprecating comment Niki was about to make. “... You have something on your face.”

Without waiting for a reply, HiMERU reached over and tilted Niki’s chin upward with his pointer finger, brushing away a stray crumb of food at the corner of his unit mate’s mouth with his thumb. He watched as Niki’s eyes went wide with the gesture, lips parting slightly to let out a single noise.

“Ah.”

Neither dared to move.

There was a mental game of chicken being played where neither party wanted to move. A spell had been cast. The world was still.

It would never be clear on HiMERU’s face that he was thinking of anything in particular. He had always held himself to the standard of needing to act in accordance to what HiMERU would do. Not himself. But in this moment, he was conflicted. His true desires would be counter to anything that would further HiMERU’s career and counter to any other option that would be “safe.”

In a lone alleyway, under the cover of shadows, with the moon and stars as witness, desire triumphed safety.

Niki’s lips were soft.

That was all HiMERU could register as his hand moved from Niki’s chin to cup his jaw. And for a moment, he feared that the chef did not reciprocate. Alarm bells were ringing in his head— I have made a mistake. And, out of panic, he pulled away just as he felt equal pressure on his lips.

“HiMERU apologi—“

His words were stifled quick. He was backed up against the railing by the force of Niki leaning in for another kiss. Their teeth nearly clashed as HiMERU got his bearings and actually kissed back.

Inhibitions and doubts pushed to the side, HiMERU turned the tables so now Niki was pressed against the brick wall of the building. Their lips moved in sync with one another. Their hands were all over each other. Their bodies melded together like this was the way it was always meant to be. All the time spent dancing around each other’s feelings, kind conversations in the cafe, brushing hands, longing looks— All of it just heated the idols’ want for one another.

The way Niki’s breath hitched and the little whimper that escaped him as they grew more passionate only served to make blood rush down to HiMERU’s groin. He could feel Niki rut against his thigh slightly, almost rhythmically to the tempo of the muffled song playing inside the Bee Hive.

The Bee Hive...

Right.

Before either of them could get carried away, they pulled apart for air. Both of them were left panting, staring into each other’s eyes with a carnal desire.

“HiMERU thinks we should go somewhere more private.”

His words come out much more desperately than he’d desire.

“Yeah... Yeah...” Niki seemed to be in a daze himself, still unconsciously moving his hips against HiMERU’s body.

After a quick text to the remaining two bees saying that HiMERU felt tired and that Niki decided to escort him back to the dorms, the two set off on a quick hunt for the nearest love hotel.

~~~

The two were back at it in no time.

Clothes were flying off of the both of them— A comical Kisses trailed along each bit of exposed skin. Every beauty mark. Everything. They couldn’t help themselves. Eventually, HiMERU was leaned back against the headboard with Niki in front of him on his knees. Both of them only had their boxers left as a barrier.

HiMERU was once again taken by Niki’s boyish charm, admiring every stray freckle and mole that was once hidden by clothing. He couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at how wide-eyed and flustered Niki was. Though the chef’s hands were resting at the elastic of HiMERU’s boxers, Niki seemed to be hesitating. Or at least in deep thought.

Cupping his cheek, HiMERU made Niki look at him.

“Are you okay?” HiMERU asked.

Niki nodded, his usual smile returning accompanied by a flush of pink to his cheeks. “I’m okay. Just... Nervous. I’ve never... I mean I’ve wanted to— I mean...”

It was rare to see Niki so shy like this. It made him that much more adorable in HiMERU’s eyes.

A kiss. Just to calm the nerves. HiMERU pulled down his own boxers himself. Niki’s face went wildly red. And while normally HiMERU would chastise staring so blatantly... He’d make an exception this time since it made him feel good.

“That’s alright. HiMERU will guide you. Don’t worry.” He did his best to assure his friend— Lover? They didn’t really talk this through. But that would be later. Right now, he coaxed Niki out of his final layer of clothing.

Bare in front of each other, HiMERU held back from folding Niki in half and prepping him hastily with the love hotel’s lube. All this time, HiMERU had been... Suppressing his urges to say the least. It’s been long enough that HiMERU thought he would be immune to such immense horny thoughts. But now it was hitting him like a train. His dick twitched in the cold air of the room as if signaling its own needs.

Niki wasn’t fairing any better, it seemed. He looked painfully hard already, tip gleaming with precum. The man was even drooling slightly like he was looking at his next meal.

Well... Maybe that was because HiMERU was going to end up in his mouth.

Niki was so eager to try, at least. His hand gently wrapped around HiMERU’s base as if to gauge how he’d fit his girth in. Sparkling blue eyes bore into HiMERU with an unspoken request. HiMERU should’ve expected this out of Niki, but he didn’t think the virgin would take initiative like this.

“You...” HiMERU took a deep breath before nodding. “Fine. Just be mindful of your teeth. HiMERU will tell you what to do.”

Beaming, Niki nodded and quickly shimmied down to dick level. Niki’s oral fixation wasn’t anything new, but in this context, HiMERU felt a bead of precum form at his tip.

The moment HiMERU gave Niki a nod, there wasn’t a moment of hesitation. Niki engulfed the tip into his warm, awaiting mouth and lavished it with his tongue. Even with just the tip, Niki’s mouth was rather full.

HiMERU let out a soft groan as he realized that Niki would be rather good at this. He guided Niki’s hand to stroke whatever wasn’t in his mouth, eyes glowing with appreciation as Niki followed his instruction.

“Spit on it,” he said, “And move your head in time with your hand.”

It was a little cute having to tell Niki what to do.

Niki followed, allowing his drool to roll down HiMERU’s shaft. The mix of saliva and pre made it easy for Niki’s hand to pump him at a nice pace. HiMERU’s slender fingers threaded through Niki’s locks in order to guide his head up and down as he liked.

Moans and grunts escaped both parties as each got used to the respective sensations. HiMERU was on cloud nine with how quickly Niki caught on. His mouth felt like heaven. It took all his might to not force Niki’s head down so his dick would slide down the chef’s throat. Though now that the thought was in his head, he’d have to do it if the opportunity presented itself later down the line.

No— Instead, HiMERU watched with his mouth agape as Niki gave head like a champ.

He couldn’t resist bucking his hips lightly into Niki’s inviting mouth every now and again, watching as his partner’s eyes would widen in shock each time but no less took what was given. Niki’s cheeks were puffed out in what the other could only interpret as a pout.

Niki’s eyes peered up at HiMERU’s panting, sweaty form as he opened his mouth and let his lover’s cock pat his tongue a few times. He kissed down the length, leaning to rest his cheek against HiMERU’s thigh. He looked dazed as he leisurely pumped his hand around him.

Hand moving from his long, dark grey hair to his chin, HiMERU smeared the spit along Niki’s lips with his thumb with a smile. “Everything alright, Shiina?” He asked to check in. As much as he wanted his cock stuffed back between his lips, he let Niki take his time.

His lover responded with a hum, kissing his thumb before dragging his tongue along the tip of HiMERU’s cock. Niki’s hips rutted lightly against the bed to satiate himself. “You taste... Nice.”

High praise.

HiMERU’s lips curled into a small smile. He could tell Niki was too shy to actually ask for what he wanted so he took matters into his own hands. “HiMERU hasn’t been very fair, hm? Lay down.”

Niki followed.

His palms slid under Niki’s thighs to push them up to his chest. “Hold them there for—“ HiMERU paused, looking down at his unit mate’s flustered appearance. Fingers digging into his soft skin, he spared a tender kiss to the chef’s lips. “Hold them there for HiMERU. Please.” His voice was strained as he fell into old habits.

Of course, Niki obliged. He held his legs perfectly in place as HiMERU fished the lube out from one of the hotel’s baskets to use.

In HiMERU’s mind, nothing would be quite as hot compared to how Niki looked as he prepared him. As his finger pressed against his hole gently to ease it in, Niki let out the most adorable whimper. A pure melody.

“Ngah~ HiMERU-kun~” Niki whined, blunt nails digging into the backs of his own thighs.

“Just relax, Shiina.” HiMERU muttered, fully concentrated on the task at hand. “It’ll get better in a moment...” He trails off again, pressing the pad of another finger to Niki’s tight hole. The lube felt cool on his fingers, but it was immediately contrasted by the warmth of his lover’s insides. “... HiMERU promises it’ll feel better.”

His free hand moved to attend to Niki’s stiff cock. It was leaking so much precum that HiMERU would’ve thought he came if he wasn’t looking. Either way, it just made stroking him that much easier.

HiMERU took his sweet time preparing his lover. Delving his fingers in and out, HiMERU was given quite the show of Niki writhing against the sheets, biting his lip to keep from making a fool of himself with all the noises he was making. His hole was clenching around HiMERU’s fingers like his life depended on it. Even when HiMERU knew Niki was properly prepared, he still kept going to coax more reactions out of him. The hand moving up and down Niki’s cock was agonizingly slow. He studied each reaction as he ran his fingers over the other’s tip.

Niki was nervous, that much was sure. But the way Niki’s lashes fluttered every now and then as he got more and more used to the feeling of being filled was such a beautiful sight. The blue-haired man was far too entranced by his lover drooling and whining right in the palms of his hands.

It all came to a head when Niki heaved out a breath and grabbed HiMERU’s wrist. “HiMERU-kun, please... I can’t take it. I’m ready. I promise.” A mewling cat simply putty in his hands.

HiMERU blinked a few times, all too lost in how nice Niki was sounding to remember the actual task at hand for a moment.

“Please...”

Niki’s voice was practically strained with want. And who was HiMERU to deny such a kind plea?

With some shifting around, HiMERU was pressed up against Niki’s awaiting hole.

“... You’re sure about this?” HiMERU asked. As much as he wanted nothing more than to bury himself into Niki, both his own hesitancy and his respect for his unit mate made him check once more.

Niki laced his fingers with HiMERU’s. It was such a soft gesture that HiMERU nearly melted on the spot.

“I’m sure, ‘meru,” he said. “I trust you.”

Both of them let out their own soft moans of pleasure as HiMERU pushed in. HiMERU even cursed, hunching over to press his forehead to Niki’s shoulder. “Warm...” He grunted.

He thrust inch by inch in, doing his best to keep it soft and gentle. How long had it been since he fucked someone like this? Someone he cared about, no less. HiMERU could feel a bead of sweat roll down his temple. All the time he’s spent suppressing his urges was kicking him in the ass during what is supposed to be a gentle first time for Niki.

Niki’s lips met HiMERU’s neck to soothe himself as they both rocked in sync. His grip on HiMERU’s hands tightened ever so slightly. The heat from the chef’s body radiated against his own.

The room was alight with soft moans and grunts as the two made love for the first time.

One of HiMERU’s hands let go of Niki’s, much to the chef’s whining.

“’M-Meru!”

Niki’s voice came out in a cute squeak as HiMERU timed his thrusts to each stroke of his cock. The both of them had been holding back so much this whole time. Niki himself was far too embarrassed from how ready he was to come even earlier that he’s been holding it in. His pretty blue eyes glistened with tears from how close he was.

HiMERU knew Niki was close and had been for some time. He could feel how his dick twitched in his hand. “C’mon, Shiina,” he mumbled. He allowed himself to speed up, his hips snapping to Niki’s like it was the last thing he would do. “It’s okay. Go on. Come for me.”

His words and Niki’s climax came before either of them could fully register it. Niki’s shy moans got louder and louder, dizzy and overwhelmed with pleasure. “Mnngh~! HiMERU-kun!” He gasped.

Cum splattered across his abdomen and HiMERU’s fingers, but HiMERU hadn’t stopped moving. His eyes shone with an unabashed lust as he raised his hands to lick up the essence spilled. The sight of which made Niki whine with embarrassment.

Niki’s whines turned to more moans as HiMERU continued to plow into him. Given that Niki was thrown deep into a pit of ecstasy, he had no problems now going as harsh as he wanted. His hand found Niki’s shaft once more, playing a nice game of overstimulation with the poor chef beneath him who was scrambling to hold onto him.

“Ghh—!” Niki’s cries went unheard.

HiMERU was ruthless, peppering Niki’s face with kisses as he let out all his pent up lust.

“I’m sorry, Shiina. I can’t help it when you look so sexy under me. You’re gripping my cock so tightly... You want me to keep fucking you like this into the night?” His words flowed out of his mouth freely and without shame in short gasps. “You’re so pretty. Wish I could take a picture...”

A part of him was tempted, but that would open a whole new can of possible bad decisions.

Niki didn’t have the mind to respond in anything but the lovely sounds of moans and whimpers. His back arched as he felt HiMERU twitch in his tight hole.

HiMERU pressed his lips roughly onto Niki’s as his thrusts lost their rhythm. He focused purely on driving himself as harshly as he could into his lover.

“Coming...”

With one last pump of his hips, HiMERU pushed himself flush against Niki. His balls emptied themselves of their seed, filling Niki enough to make him shudder.

Once again, the world was still as the two caught their breath. HiMERU didn’t bother pulling out just yet. Instead, he very carefully adjusted both of them to they could lay intertwined in each other’s embrace.

Niki was exhausted, but satisfied as he snuggled up to HiMERU. His eyes were drooping slightly as the high started to settle down.

“That felt nice...” He muttered. “... But now I’m hungry...”

HiMERU let out a breathless chuckle, kissing the crown of Niki’s head. “I’m— Excuse me. HiMERU is pretty sure we can order food here... Let’s rest first for a moment. HiME— I—“ He sighed. The inner conflict was back.

“... I’ll order us something in a minute. How’s that sound?”

“Mhm... Anything’s fine with me. Thank you.” Niki responded in kind, a soft smile on his face as he basked in the afterglow.

The two shared a kiss, tender and sweet.

In these moments... These are for me. Just me. I can let myself have these moments with Shiina.

[kusundei]

iiiii. am. normal. i mean? as normal as i’ll ever be.? its just like. yeah no i feel better sort of but thats also the bad part. oh bcuz who am i.? im trying again not to condemn myself over it but i cant exactly help feeling bad whenever iiii feel okay again. who am i to be normal??? to act like everything js okay and nothing happened?? its just. incredibly selfish. half the reason i keep just kind of distracting myself is because if i am alone for too long j will start thinking about it and i’ll be evil but isnt that whats supposed to be happening anyway? im not relinquished of anything. he can be as kind and sweet as he wants because he truly is just at his core but he is. way too kind to me when i am so incredibly undeserving.

ive always sort of felt undeserving of everything regarding him but i chose to look past it because i am better. i am a good person i am okay and i can be better and im not condemned to my past but idk. this just reminds me that no i am still selfish and i am still not . really a good person. it really has just kind of brought the attachment style and allll my doubts back into the forefront of my mind ljke it was before. like when we first started dating and i was horrified. didnt believe anything he said really but i worked through it its just like? why am i doubting him now? i was the one who hurt him so why is it making me? falter?

i mean im just asking a rhetorical question because i know. iiii always know. its just that i truly dont believe he means any of it anymore because j huuurt him. the one thing thats always sort of bothered me is when he deemed me perfect, which is such a nice and flattering sentiment but i think it weighed down pn me this feeling that i HAD to be perfect when i knew deep down i had already made such a bad mistake. which is why it was so scary? i knew how he was going to take jt and j tried to just accept it and work through it and j AM. i am i am i am but i keep going back and forth on how i want to deal with this. do i keep acting like im okay and everything is okay and live like that? because it would work and it would probably help him so much more than me focusing on how much i hate myself now but i just feel. horrible if i do do that. but is that me self sabotaging again by truly preferring to condemn myself and let this kill me? like it did last time?

i dont know. again it kind of has just reminded me of last time. but the issue with this compared to how it was with jd is that that issue w jd happened about a year and a half into our relationship and the worst part? it ruined it. it festered there and grew more and more till it killed both me and her because it stuck. ajax and i arent even at 2 months yet and jve already? done? something? that detrimental? its just like. i need to change something. find something. DO something different. because i know what i did with jd last time and jm trying not to repeat a cycle. i’ll be different ill try ill do everything i can because iii cant. as selfish as it is i cant let. this . go. i cant let HIM go either and j feel horrible about it again but i just i dont know

its just so weird because. its all came back. and its so unhelpful. because i KNOW hes still going through it and he doesnt believe me and things r just different but why is it also different for me? i should just be focused on him. doing the most i can to make him feel better and really emphasize that nothing has changed in me especially regarding how much i love him. its just i also keep just feeling. so. so guilty. it comes and goes in waves again. it truly is just the fact that hes right. because if i do love you this much then why would i do that to you? why did i do that? and my only answer is just that i am selfish. because i didnt know how to keep my mouth shut and i made such a personal thing out to be just another thing i could just say because iiiii trust them. but HE doesnt know them. j told her for what? because i needed her to know? she didnt need to know that. even if i was as shocked as i was and still processing it and wanted to talk about it i shouldve kept it to myself and processed it silently. instead i put him last and ignored the matter of fact that this would affect him badly just because iiiiii wanted to talk about it . i was selfish and put myself before him and this always happens when i do so. truly why dont i ever learn? what is wrong with me?? i keep kind of forgetting about it all and then it comes back. then goes then leaves. what sucks is truly that . im so doubtful again. its not that i dont trust him and i dont believe him its just that i hate myself. i hate myself all over again and its making me unable to believe that i deserve any of this AGAIN. that no. hes lying to me. he doesnt mean it hes just saying that? ive hurt him too much . because theres no way he just has no negative feelings toward me when i was the one who did that. and let alone if he IS telling the truth then thats worse because why am i spared? why am i given the benefit of the doubt when he has vocalized that if it was anyone else he wouldve hated them? so why is jt different for me? you SHOULD hate me. thats the problem.

[da-gamingojichan]

Robooty's awezome itager sex fanfic (AIDS EDITION)

PREAMBLE: you all may know my hit fanfiction on the ao3.... but i mentioned in the tags theres an aids edition where practically all the dialogue has their accents completely horrible and inaccurately written out. the very last bits dont have that but its because I was fighting for my life against sickness and the school chromebook to finish the fic when i made it okay shit happened. ill link the ao3 version thats #normal and what you should read if ur gunna read this shit. but for the robootyling that begged me on mai blog to post the aids edition.... this is for you ❤️

LINK TO NORMAL ONE

PREAMBLE OVER. SEX COMMENCE!!!!!

Germany nervously thumbed the note cards in his hands as he awaited Italy's arrival. The man blushed as he skimmed over the contents he had copied down from The Beginner’s Guide To Sex For the Hard-Hearted German on said pieces of paper the night earlier. He shifted the note cards to face more inwards towards himself, despite the fact he was alone in the hotel room. And also that if anyone even were to steal the note cards it would take them at least five minutes to decipher what was written down in his microscopic neat handwriting. Nervously, he fiddled with the edge of the ski mask on his face.

Yes, he had a ski mask on his head for the past twenty minutes. Germany had realized that even thinking about the event to come made his entire face flush a noticeable red. He couldn’t even imagine how blushed he’d look during the actual activity itself and decided that sort of thing was much too shameful to show Italy, so he found a solution. Wearing a ski mask on his face would be the perfect fix to make sure his lover wouldn’t see all the blood in his body rushing to his head when it’s supposed to be going to his… vital regions.

He also realized that he would probably make all sorts of embarrassing sounds and maybe even get so overwhelmed he’d attack Italy by instinct once they got down to business. So to combat this he also procured a duffle bag that sat next to the bed with duct tape, rope, and a knife to cut both items with. The duct tape would be perfect to put over his mouth to make sure any strange sounds he would make would become inaudible, and the rope could be used if he felt that he might need to be restrained to protect his husband.

He also had a yak tranquilizer in there too.

Just in case y’know?

Sure it may be a bit strange, but Italy probably wouldn’t even find it noticeable after listening to Germany’s explanation and adjusting to it all. At least that’s what Austria said when he consulted him on the matter. Apparently he and Hungary did that sort of thing all the time or something.

The blonde country sighed as he tucked the notecards into his pocket and fiddled with his hands while listening to the clock tick by. He suddenly focused his eyes on said clock and squinted.

“Vait. Vat ze hell?,” he thought, “Zat clock iz vun quarter of unt second off! I must fix it!”

The country quickly stood up from where he was sitting at the edge of the bed and brought the clock down into his hands as started to tinker with it. He had momentarily worried about Italy arriving while he was adjusting the clock, but decided that it would be fine, he needed something to get his mind off of what they would be doing together once his husband arrived. Instead he decided to recount what had happened to bring him to the hotel room in the first place.

It all started two weeks prior on Germany and Italy’s anniversary. The German had as always agonizingly created a meticulous plan for Italy to ruin immediately. Although this year had been a surprise since the brunette ruined Germany’s plans not by his usual antics like flashing his dick in a restaurant and getting them kicked out or getting distracted by street cats a few too many times, rather he’d told Germany that he made their plans all by himself for a change.

Now Germany could have told Italy that he spent weeks creating the itinerary for the day already and would receive nothing but understanding sprinkled with bits of praise from the Italian for always being so prepared. But the moment he saw the earnest look in his husband’s eyes that showed he really did try his best making the plans for a change this time, all notions of following through with the reservations he had made flew out the window.

It was fine, sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, especially the greatest good which was accepting Italy’s displays of affections. No matter how frustrating or unpleasant or downright humiliating they could be at times. Besides, few canceled reservations was still infinitely better than the time the brunette uploaded on his official country of Italy account a post captioned “pasta in the shape of Germany’s anatomy” with a rather… uncouth, but delicious looking picture attached. Not to mention how Italy later begged the referenced country to reblog the photo onto his own official country account.

He did reblog it of course.

Anyways, Germany was rather excited to see what Italy had in store for him. Even though he knew the plans would not be as elaborate or well thought out as his own usually are, he still highly anticipated seeing what his husband prepared for him.

But how was he supposed to expect that after a day of a surprisingly well thought out and romantic anniversary date that the Italian planned to bed him?!

Like seriously! He had already mentally prepared himself for kissing and hand holding and possibly even a heavy make out session before snuggling in bed– but definitely not going all the way! Sure it might have been because it was specifically their hundredth anniversary they were celebrating, but that still is moving a bit fast isn’t it!?

The worst part was that the way the German realized that his husband wanted to have s… se…

…coitus. With Him.

Was when during their make out session the Italian palmed his lover’s dick firmly in his hand through the man’s pants only for Germany to suddenly suplex him out of sheer battle instincts.

The taller man quickly snapped out of it and helped Italy up before grabbing an ice pack from his fridge for his head. Forgetting completely about Italy copping a feel after effectively giving his husband a concussion on their anniversary night, he apologized profusely for the wrestling move as he asked if he was alright. The brunette was only slightly dazed since his brain was already so damaged that a hit like that barely did any harm to him at all. Yet he still stayed silent and kept his head lowered as tears began to pool into his eyes.

Germany started to panic, but before he could get a word out the shorter man lifted his head to make eye contact with him and asked with the seriousness of a man on death row, “Germany. Am I-a rizzless?”

The German did not know how to respond to that. He merely gaped at him for a moment before sputtering out, “V-Vhat are you talking avout? Of courze you have rizz!”

Italy bore his gaze into his lover’s eyes. “Then why… why…,” he trailed off.

“Why vhat?,” Germany asked, panic now replaced with confusion since he now knew the Italian wasn’t badly hurt.

Italy trembled as he brought his head back down before surging upwards and yelling at Germany with a hint of desperation, “WHY HAVE WE-A NEVA BANGED?! I KNOW YOU’RE NOT TE ASEXUAL JAHMANY! I’VE SEEN HOW YOU CUT OUT-A PICTURES OF MAH HEAD AND PASTE IT ONTO THE BOHDIES OF ALL THE PEOPLES IN YOUR PORN MAGAZINES! AM I-A JUST NOT YOUR BODY TYPE? ARE ANEMIC BOYS LIKE SWEETZERLAND MORE YOUR-A STYLE?”

Meanwhile, in a house far away from the two other countries, Switzerland sneezed.

“VHAT!?,” yelled the German, leaning back from his lover’s outburst, “VHAT ARE YOU TALKING AVOUT ITALY?!”

“ONE HUNDRED YEARS WE’VE-A BEEN MARRIED AND NEVER ONCE HAVE YOU EXPLAINED WHY WE DON’T GO PAST KISSING! AN ITALIAN LIKE-A ME CAN ONLY GO SO LONG WITHOUT ANY-A ACTION! I USED TO HAVE AT LEAST THREE GIRLS-A NIGHT! NOW I’VE BEEN OVER A HUNDRED YEARS ABSTINENT,“ Italy cried as he threw himself into Germany’s arms, “do you know how-a bad that is for someone like-a me? My soul is degrading Jahmany. MY SOUL! Is it-a because you don’t like my body? You told-a me about how you think of-a me during your monthly scheduled jack off sessions! Just tell-a me why Jahmany– why!”

Germany was stunned beyond words. Italy’s indecipherable speech was something that the man had become fluent in for years, but the Italian had spoken so quickly and frantically that even he had to take a moment to process what exactly had just spat out at him at rapid fire.

As the man fully processed what his husband rambled out a flush rose up his neck to the top of his head. He looked down at the teary eyed brunette snuggled in his chest and quickly proceeded with damage control.

“n-NO! Italy it’z not like zat at all!,” he quickly reassured, “u-uhm I love your body! It’s not displeazing to me at all! I especially vike how your torso haz vun arm on each side! And-and how ven you open your eyez I can see your vhites in zem! The reason we haven’t… done things… like zat yet is uhm… vell I haven’t exactly zhought ve’d be doing zhose activities anytime soon…”

He paused as he downcast his eyes, looking away from the brunette for a moment.

Before he decidedly gave out a long exhale and mumbled under his breath, “vut it’z not vike I don't VANT to…”

The Italian abruptly paused secretly motorboating Germany’s tits once he heard the man’s barely audible confession. In an instant, his tears receded into his eyes (in a very frankly disturbing manner, since tears should not be able to do that; you know how Hetalia’s animation budget gets sometimes) and he immediately looked up towards his lover as he broke into an excited grin.

“REALLY JAHMANY?! FOR-A REAL-SIES?!,” Italy shouted as he lunged towards the German’s face, “YOU WANNA █████████████████████ AND THEN ████████████████ TO YOUR-A █████████████ SO I ████████████████████████ THEN I █████████ ALL-A OVER YOU AND DON’T STOP EVEN WHEN YOU █████████ AND THEN-A WE BOTH █████████████████████████████!!!!!!”

Germany snapped his eyes back to look at the Italian as he sputtered from all the profane and lewd things his husband had just shoved into his mind to imagine. He could feel his head steaming as he made a few choked noises trying to figure out how to begin to respond to something like that until he finally gave up. He sighed in defeat before he averted his gaze again and hesitantly mumbled, “Ja.”

Italy immediately glomped the man as hard as he could, making Germany fall backwards slightly as he let out a startled yelp.

“OH JAHMANY I’M-A SO HAPPY! YOU’LL REALLY LIKE SEX JAHMANY I-A KNOW YOU WILL I’M REALLY REALLY REALLLYY GOOD AT IT! I-A MAY NOT BE ABLE TO FIGHT FOR SHIT BUT I-A DO KNOW MY WAY AROUND-A PERSON’S ASSHOLE! OR WELL– A PRETTY LADY’S ASSHOLE, BUT YOU’RE A PRETTY MAN AND-A EVERYONE HAS AN ASSHOLE SO I’M SURE IT’S-A BASICALLY THE SAME! I’M SO SO GLAD JAHMANY! I’M-A SO GLAD YOU DO WANT TO BANG AND I’M-A SO GLAD MY BEAUTIFUL BODY IS-A NOT JUST IRRESISTIBLE TO EVERY-A WOMAN ON PLANET EARTH, BUT ALSO IRRESISTIBLE TO YOU TOO!,” he excitedly rambled into his husband's ear, “EVEN WITH MY-A WEIRD PENIS!”

Germany instinctually reciprocated the hug and patted Italy’s back as his head tilted downwards into the other man’s shoulder.

“Ja Ja. I do,” he muttered with embarrassment tinging his voice, “even vith your… unique penis.”

Italy made a content “ve~” and further snuggled into the German’s hug. A silence stretched as they mutually enjoyed each other's embrace.

That is until Italy grabbed Germany’s balls again and got suplexed immediately.

Italy let out a surprised, “VE-” and Germany made a panicked noise as he immediately released the other man and picked him up to sit him down in his previous spot. The taller man fumbled to grab the previously discarded ice pack while his husband sat dazed for slightly longer than after the first suplex. He still came back to his senses astonishingly quickly though, since getting multiple concussions in one day was just another Tuesday for the Italian.

This time though, the blonde was the first one to speak.

“VAT ZE HELL VAS ZAT?!,” he angrily scolded, “VHY DID YOU DO ZAT?? I SUPLEXED YOU LITERALLY TWO MINUTES AGO FOR TOUCHING MEIN DEUTSCH BALLS!”

Italy let out a confused ve as Germany rubbed his head on the spot that hit the ground.

“B-but I-a thought you said you WANTED to-a get-a down and dahty with me Jahmany.”

“J-Ja I do!,” the German replied as he quickened the pace of his rubbing to distract himself from his rising embarrassment, “vut obviously I need unt time to prepare!”

He paused in contemplation for a moment.

“Vun month should be sufficient, " he concluded.

“VE?!” Italy yelled as he shot up out of the man’s hold, “DEADASS??”

Germany startled backwards from the outburst and replied in an agitated tone, “Yes “deadass”! How do you expvect me to read unt annotate ze whole Guide to Sex for Ze Hard Hearted German series in less time zan zat? Zere’s five books to study and-”

Germany was cut off by the shorter man putting his hands on his shoulders with a face that could only be described as radiating the sentiment of “this faggot cannot be serious right now”.

“Jahmany. Jahmany. Amore mio. Listen to me,” He gritted out as he opened his eyes, “You do not need to read five books to prepare for sex.”

Germany gaped at him for a moment, not because he opened his eyes while saying his statement, but because while saying it Italy had dropped his accent out of sheer exasperation.

“Vut… Vut what if I do it badly?,” he hesitantly protested, all the fight draining out of him after hearing his husband get so tired of his shit he became normal.

Italy continued to stare him directly into his eyes with an alarming seriousness, “Germany. You will not do badly. There is no conceivable way for you to disappoint me. I have jerked off to you twice a day for the past hundred years without fail– yes, even while I had pneumonia that one time. I’ve imagined literally every scenario possible with you. In fact there is no scenario I’ve imagined with you that I didn’t like at least a little bit too. There’s no physically possible way for me to not like banging you.”

Germany’s blush deepened as he listened to the brunette’s confession, his embarrassment only amplified from being pinned down by the other’s intense stare. He instinctually averted his eyes while he hung his head in a bit of shame as he started realizing maybe he was being the ridiculous one here.

The Italian’s eyes softened as they slipped back closed and he cupped his husband’s cheek into his hand to bring his face back to his own, “But you-a know that if you-a really are uncomfortable or scared or-a anything at all we don’t-a have to have sex okay?,” he began stroking his cheek gently with his thumb, “I-a just want you to-a know that there’s no part of me that doesn’t desire you. It’s-a completely okay if you don’t-a want to do that-a sort-a of thing now or even ever. Even if we-a start and you don’t-a want to keep-a going suddenly then-a we-a can stop anytime. I just know how-a shy you can be about things and how you sometimes worry about-a me too much, so I need-a to push you to let-a you-a know you shouldn’t be worried about-a my end.”

The blonde brought his hand up to Italy’s wrist that was holding his face and forced his eyes back to his lover’s face. Furrowing his brow a little bit from fighting against his instincts to look away again, he responded, “Vell… if you really are svure you are fine vith me being less zan properly prepared… ven I zink ve could arrange somevhing next veek…”

The shorter man brought his face closer to Germany’s, “Are you really sure?”

“Ja,” the German replied, fighting for his life against his embarrassment and autism to maintain eye contact.

Feeling his nerves about to get the best of him, he moved his head back and closed his eyes while he quickly added, “vut not ze ██████████████ und ze █████████████ and also ze ███████████!”

He turned his face away as he muttered, “At least not for now… Zat’s vay too much for ze firvst time! And also ESPECIALLY not ze ███████████ too okay?!”

Italy had proceeded to pull him into a kiss and murmured something about how cute he was as he decided to continue what they left off at in their make-out session twenty minutes ago.

Afterwards while cuddling they both agreed to book a hotel room the next Saturday for their highly anticipated activities together and thus, led Germany to where he was now. Now having finished fixing and placing back the clock, he occupied himself by rummaging through the various items in the cabinets to see where the hotel bible was to read a few verses from it.

He was snapped out of his focus when suddenly, he heard a shriek from behind him and swiftly turned towards the source of the sound.

There he saw a teary eyed Italy quite literally shaking in his boots.

“AHHHHH!!!!! INTRUDER ALERT INTRUDER ALERT WHERES-A GERMANY?!,” Italy screamed as his eyes darted around the room and caught on the open duffle bag, seeing the tape and rope within it, “OH-A MY GOD HE’S TRYING TO-A HARVEST OUR ORGANS OR-A SELL US ON THE-A BLACK MARKET AHHHHHH!!! WHAT HAVE YOU-A DONE TO-A JAHMANY?!”

Germany, realizing that Italy could not recognize him with his ski mask on, quickly strode over to the man to reassure him that there was no intruder that was trying to hate crime them. Unfortunately in his panic it did not occur to him to remove his mask making the Italian only freak out harder.

The brunette immediately made a move to bolt away once he saw the other man start striding towards him, but was caught in the intruder’s arms and struggled to get away as if he was going to be forced to pay his bill at a restaurant. After about five seconds he gave up and pulled out two white flags seemingly out of nowhere and got to doing what he does best, acting like a total pussy.

“PLEASE-A LET ME GO YOU WON’T-A LIKE-A MY ORGANS–THEY’RE FULL OF-A PASTA AND WINE AND JAHMANY’S NASTY WAR BREAD WHICH IS-A CALLED STOLLEN BUT-A DON’T TELL HIM-A THAT I-A CALLED IT THAT BECAUSE I-A LIED AND TOLD HIM I-A LOVED IT WHEN IT-A TASTED REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD– LIKE SUPER DUPER BAD IT-A WAS HARD AND HAD-A NASTY DRIED FRUITS IN IT BUT I-A COULDN’T BREAK HIS HEART AND-A TELL HIM THAT AND ENDED UP HAVING TO-A EAT A WHOLE LOT OF IT– THE THINGS I-A DO FOR LOVE AM I-A RIGHT? SEE I’VE-A HAD A HARD LIFE Y’KNOW SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T HURT MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!,” he rambled while waving his white flags furiously.

Italy felt the grip on him soften as the masked man deflated and in a broken hearted voice said, “Italy… you lied avout viking mein schtollen? Vhy… Vhy did you lie to me…”

“G-germany?,” Italy asked himself as he dropped his white flags to take off the man’s mask, revealing a disillusioned Germany.

He made a startled yell of surprise realizing what he just confessed to the man.

“I-I DIDN’T-A MEAN IT IN THAT-A WAY JAHMANY!!,” he tried to reassure, “YOU-A KNOW I SAY SOME CRAZY THINGS WHEN I’M IN-A TROUBLE–”

He saw that his words were having no impact on his lover’s deflated mood and quickly changed the subject, “UHM! ANYWAYS– I’M-A REALLY GLAD YOU’RE NOT-A SCARY INTRUDER JAHMANY AND YOU DIDN’T-A GET CUT OPEN OR-A SOLD ON THE BLACK MARKET!”

Italy continued rambling about how happy he was that neither of them were going to become meat pies as he untangled himself from Germany's hold and took him by the hand back into the hotel room. He closed the door behind them and led them to the bed.

“Why were you-a wearing such-a scary thing anyways Jahmany?,” Italy asked while holding the ski mask out in front of him as they sat down on the mattress, “and what’s with all the stuff in the duffle bag? I-a thought you didn’t-a want to do anything kinky this-a time?”

Germany, having already forgiven Italy as usual, explained in an increasingly flustered manner his reasoning for the mask and the items in his bag, especially the yak tranquilizer. As the explanation went on Italy’s face went from confused into falling in a grimace-like smile.

“... so zats vhy I prepared all zese zings. Again, I’m sorry vor startling you earlier,” the taller man concluded. He reached to take the ski mask back only for it to be jerked away from him by the Italian.

“Jahmany,” Italy started with tight smile, “thank you for all-a these-a wonderful preparations. But I-a think we won’t-a need these things at-a all. Especially not-a the ski mask. Just-a trust me okay?”

The blonde knit his brows togethers in confusion thinking that Italy surely should have understood why his preparations were needed after his thirty minute explanation. Well, in daily life Italy did have trouble following a line of logic in general so it isn’t too surprising that he was struggling to become agreeable now too.

“Let me explain it to you again zen Italy, so-,” Germany started only to be cut off from Italy lunging himself on top of him, effectively pinning him to the bed kabedon style.

There was no fucking way Italy was going to listen to that thirty minute schpiel again. It was already 10 PM at night and he knew Germany was going to make them get up at 5 AM the next morning to run a few laps to satisfy his autistic need for schedule. He had to get things moving or else he’d be dead in the water with no sleep and no Germussy.

The brunette brought his face close to his lover’s ear and he whispered, “Jahmany, you know I find that-a worrywort side of you-a cute too, but right-a now let me take-a the lead alright?”

For emphasis he proceeded to place a chaste kiss on the back of his husband’s jaw.

Germany’s ears began to burn from the blood rushing to them. In all these years he never could get used to the feeling of the Italian’s lips on his skin. He fumbled trying to formulate a proper response to the man’s compliment and interruption, ending up uttering out, “Ja– y-you too.”

Italy took this as his greenlight to start attacking the man’s face with his own.

Before Germany could overthink about his failure of a response, he felt his husband’s lips press firmly to his.

The shorter man laced their fingers together as he pinned the German’s hands above his head on the bed. Knowing his lover was the type who would always forget to breathe through his nose (it was alright, at least he finally stopped keeping his eyes open while smooching), he broke the kiss before diving back down with more fervor. He swiped his tongue against the bottom lip of the man below him, asking for permission to enter his mouth. As always, his husband obliged and parted his lips modestly.

Germany always thought that feeling a tongue explore his mouth felt a bit weird at first. And in general the act was pretty unsanitary which wasn’t very pleasant either. But when he thought about how the kind of strange tasting tongue in his mouth was his beloved Italy’s, that alone was enough to make the experience enjoyable and start getting him heated up.

The blonde let out a few embarrassed sounds as Italy hummed in content against him before pulling away to see how the other was faring.

He was moving faster than usual since they had bigger fish to fry soon, but was pleased to see that the man below him was doing pretty well. Germany’s face was tickled pink as he panted heavily from, as usual, not breathing through his nose at all. He looked up at Italy in expectation as he unconsciously pursed his lips a bit in an attempt to get rid of the excessive saliva on the corner of his mouth.

The Italian, in an act of true chivalry, kissed the corner of his husband’s mouth to get rid of the excess spit and then began to trail kisses down his jaw and to the wide expanse of his neck.

Instinctually, the taller man craned his neck to give his lover a better angle to nip and nibble at him, but also gave a small protest of surprise, “vait Italy– usually ve–ah! Spend m-more time… mm… k-kissing don’t ve?”

The man paused his assault and lifted his head from the crook of the blonde’s neck.

“Well we have-a lot of-a things to do Jahmany! This-a time kissing isn’t our-a main-a course after all,” Italy replied, soaking in his husband’s flustered disposition to stop himself from diving back in to continue eating away at him.

“Zat iz true… but uhm…,” Germany averted his gaze and mumbled, “kissing iz mein favorite part… so uhm.. c-could we– do that a little more..”

Italy, in all honesty, had never been more aroused in his entire life.

Germany always had a habit of being overly considerate in their relationship in general and the Italian knew that when he didn’t ask for something it wasn’t that he didn’t care, it was just that he didn’t want to be pushy. Especially when it came to romance. So to hear him meekly request for something as sweet as a few more kisses– how could he deny him?

Italy smiled and let go of the blonde’s hands to cup his face and neck as he sweetly maneuvered his mouth to other’s for a little while longer. During which Germany found his arms settling wrapped around his lover’s torso.

As Italy pulled away he brought himself back to the man’s neck and reassured him, “don’t-a worry Jahmany, we’ll still be able to kiss-a later too,” finishing his statement with a chaste kiss behind his ear.

Germany only hugged his lover tighter as Italy resumed sucking dark hickies into his pale skin. He let out little yelps every time the brunette bit down on him and whimpered as the man licked away the marks apologetically afterwards.

“Ah—ah, Italien…,” the German mewled, into the crook of the brunette’s neck, “I- mm… I love you…”

“I-a love you too Germania,” the shorter man breathed into the other man’s skin only to feel him immediately tense up.

Germany swiftly moved his hands to his husband’s shoulder and pushed him away to make eye contact in a deathly serious fashion.

“Italy,” he said while looking him dead in the eye, “do not call me Germania.”

The Italian was startled by such a reaction and blurted out, “wh– why?” with an incredulous look on his face.

“That’s the name of my grandfather.”

Fuck.

Both men did not know how to proceed with their intimate moment together after an interruption like that.

Luckily, before Italy could make a stupid joke that would inevitably downward spiral into them sleeping in bed with awkward half boners together he remembered that in his pocket he had a small charm gifted to him by England. It was given to him as an aid in case something went wrong during his and Germany’s night together. Thank god for him going to England for that fortune telling beforehand!

He immediately pulled out the charm and threw it on the ground before Germany could react and a large poof of smoke surrounded him. As the smoke dissipated he realized he was in the same position he was in before he called his husband by his grandfather’s name.

“Ah—ah Italien…,” the German mewled, into the crook of the brunette’s neck, “I- mm… I love you…”

This time, a much wiser Italy breathed into his skin, “I-a love-a you too Germany” and he felt his lover bury his face deeper into his neck.

Hey guys so this is the part where you read a sex scene written by a guy who has never held hands with someone in his entire life

Through their close embrace, both men could feel the other beginning to harden through their clothes. But this time was different, since for once the two men would be able to do something about their soon to be full mast dicks and that thought alone excited them both further.

Now kissing Germany’s neck less aggressively with only slow, closed mouth presses to his skin, Italy moved his hands and began to unbutton his husband’s collared shirt. He trailed his sappy smooches down to the man’s vast chest that he was oh so familiar with. Shifting his hands to cup the German’s pecs he huffed in displeasure as he felt they were hard and flexed. The brunette rested his face in between his lover’s pecs and looked up at him with the best puppy eyes he could muster.

“Relax for me Jahmany, I-a like them when they’re soft,” he requested, still cupping the hard masses in his palms.

The taller man closed his eyes and muttered out a hesitant, “ja ja” as he willed his muscles to untense. The Italian made a pleased noise as he squished the man’s large pecs in his hands. Truely, a delight better than any girl could provide, he thought to himself.

He experimentally moved his thumbs to push on the other man’s nipples and felt the blonde’s pecs instantly harden once again.

Germany instinctually hugged him much tighter, causing the Italian’s body to press up firmly against his as he let out a surprised “ah!” and inquired, “V-Vhat do you zink you’re doing” through squinted eyes.

“I’m-a playing with your chest Jahmany,” the Italian replied in a cheeky tone, as he proceeded to continue gently messing around with his husband’s pink nubs.

“Ja… vut– nngh you’ve never done somezing vike– ah- zhis b—before,”

“Do you-a like it?”

“It- mmm feels… vierd.. I don’t know if– if it’z ze good… vierd,” the German replied, scrunching together his brows as he consciously loosened his grip on his lover to make sure to not hurt him.

Italy hummed in acknowledgement. It didn’t appear that his lover’s boner was getting any stiffer as he continued playing with his chest. So after a few moments he decided to hell with it and asked, “how does-a this feel then?” before he proceeded to roughly grind his thigh directly into Germany’s crotch.

He instantly felt his husband’s thighs squeeze around his leg as the German threw his head back; hand clamping over his own mouth to suppress the moan that erupted from him. His back arched as his body shuddered. Italy was momentarily concerned that his lover just prematurely ejaculated, but also thought to himself that it would still be kinda cute if he did. Luckily, he knew the man didn’t as he felt Germany unconsciously rock himself slightly against his thigh, searching for more pleasure.

The blonde reached down to grab at Italy’s thigh between his legs before jerking his hand away and choosing to modestly grip at the sheets near their lower regions instead.

“I–ah I vike it–,” he stuttered as he brought his head back forward to face the Italian, face burning red and eyes tightly shut, “I–I vike it down zhere, ah–”

Well then. If the man says he likes it down there then Italy supposes he could sacrifice the rest of the boobies time to indulge him.

Nevermind how Italy could physically feel the blood in his body rushing towards his vital regions after seeing a reaction like that.

The shorter man continued unbuttoning the rest of his husband’s shirt as he trailed kisses down his torso, slowly grinding his leg into the man’s crotch to keep him from becoming impatient. Germany gripped the sheets tighter as he let out a string of “ah”s with every rocking motion. Unconsciously, he tried to speed up the pace, but Italy held his hips firmly in place.

Once the Italian had finished releasing the bottom and final button of the other man’s shirt, he quickly unbuckled his lover’s belt as well and stripped the man of his pants and underwear in one go. Germany let out a squeak in surprise and wanted to kill himself for making such a shameful sound. That was until he felt the cool air hit his now fully hardened dick and realized Italy was staring right at it, now he wanted to double kill himself.

“D—don’t just stare right at it!,” he scolded while curling his legs inwards and covering said regions with both hands.

The brunette let out a confused ve, “ehhhh? why? I-a literally stare directly at it every time we-a go to the public baths with Japan. I already-a know what you’re-a packing”.

“That’s true but!-- Right now ze situation iz all different okay?!,” The German protested, “It’z not ze same vhen I know you actually vant to get— erm– i-intimate vith me!! Just vike how zis is different than all zhose times you made me zit next to you vhile you masturbated at night because you vere scared of ze dark! It’z not vike you vere masturbating thinking of ME!”

Italy decided to refrain mentioning how all those times he WAS masturbating thinking about Germany actually. The entire masturbating “scared of the dark” thing was an Italian way of flirting even, but that would be an explanation for another time. Instead he bent down and gently pried back open the blonde’s legs causing the blonde to let out another “eep” in protest.

“But you’re so pretty Germany,” he replied, pushing his lover back down with his hand as the other caressed the man’s thigh, “can’t I have a looksie at my husband?”

He didn’t dare let out the urge he felt to giggle when he saw Germany’s hard on twitch a little at the praise. The blonde didn’t respond verbally, but allowed his lover to continue his ministrations with no resistance as he buried his face into the pillow next to him to hide his shame.

He’s so easy, it’s adorable. Italy thought to himself.

He continued to massage out little whimpers as he caressed the man’s legs while unbuttoning his own shirt. He decided that tonight he wouldn’t force Germany to strip him back. Since even as adorable as it would be to see his husband awkwardly fumble with his clothing and somehow turn even more flustered from being teased, he himself was getting a little impatient and wanted to get to sloppy sex already.

He briefly stopped his ministrations for a moment to peel the shirt off himself and toss it to the side. Despite how much he wished he could see the blonde’s expression right now, he was a little grateful that the man still had his face buried in the pillow next to him, since half of him was worried that he would make Italy pause and fold his shirt if he saw him throw it to the side.

Germany lifted his head from the pillow after noticing that the massaging had come to a stop only to throw it back once again with an arched back when Italy began nipping at his inner thighs.

The blonde yelped and clenched the bed sheets beside him as he felt his husband wrap his hands around his cock, whispering sweet nothings into his soft flesh, “ha–AH!-”

“Ah— ahn– neughh–,” he moaned ungracefully as he felt the Italian play with the tip a bit with his thumb.

“Mio prezioso, are you-a ready to have your first blowjob?,” Italy asked as he kept the German’s legs spread with one hand while bringing his face closer to the member in his other palm.

Unfortunately, he never made contact. Right before his mouth touched the tip he heard Germany let out a high pitched cry and the penis in front of him sprayed him directly in the face with semen.

Both men went still for a moment, until Italy brought his fingers to his face and then brought them to his mouth to have a taste of the sticky white substance.

Watching Italy begin to taste his cum snapped Germany out of his trance and he immediately wretched the brunette's hand away from his mouth yelling, “ITALY DO NOT EAT ZAT!!!”

The Italian pulled his hand back, “no, no wait-a minute Jahmany.”

He scooped some more onto his index finger and placed it in his mouth for a moment, really contemplating the flavor this time. “Hey this actually tastes-a pretty good! Like not-a spread it on your toast everyday level-a good, but better than those-a nasty sausages you-a gave me that one time we pinky promised to be-a best friends forever! Do you think it’s-a because we’re countries?”

Germany was about to ask Italy what the hell was wrong with him until the weight of how he just not only prematurely ejaculated, but also prematurely ejaculated all over his husband’s face set in.

Oh mein gott what is wrong with ME? He thought to himself as a horrified expression crept in his features.

Italy, sensing the blonde’s mood change quickly grabbed his wrists before he could put his hands on his face and go full “I wish I was never born” on him.

“Hey-hey Jahmany! Don’t-a worry about creaming on-a my face! You know I honestly kinda like it–I just-a told you that you taste like-a solid 6/10 yummy!,” Italy rambled out, jerking the other man’s wrists around in lue of his usual hand gestures, “And it’s-a fine that you finished-a teensy bit early! It’s-a your first time you know? If-a anything, honestly I think it’s-a really cute! Lookit me I’m-a even harder than before!”

He looked down at his own tented pants to encourage his husband to do the same. In his peripheral vision he spotted a wonderful sight though.

His eyes trailed over to Germany’s penis that was still erect as ever, even after finishing once.

Germany had told him before that he could schedule his monthly masturbation time block since he knew that he was only physically capable of finishing one time. Despite being one of the youngest countries, he had the stamina of a grandfather and told the shorter man that it was simply impossible for him to do more than one round.

Italy knew his husband was not the type who would lie to him, so him still being erect in the current moment must be a very new and unexpected development. That much he could conclude from how also Germany seemed just as shocked as he was about his little guy still fighting strong.

In his head, the brunette gave a prayer thanking God for always being so gracious to him and promising to start attending church again. Once he finished he lunged back on top of the taller man, knocking him back over and under him and whispered in his ear, “Jahmany, if it’s-a okay with you, do you-a mind letting me-a take care of that for you?”

Still reeling from the mountains of shame he felt for finishing too quickly earlier he protested, “nein! V–vhat about yourself?! If anyzing I should be ze one taking care of you!”

He internally cursed himself for not studying the book series harder. He would say to hell with it and try taking the wheel, but flashbacks of buon san valentino flashed in his mind and he lost all confidence in himself. One book studied was not enough for then, so only one book studied for now definitely wouldn’t be enough to maneuver through this.

Italy felt his heart squeeze a little and kissed Germany’s cheek as he reassured him, “you’re so sweet mio tesoro. I love that considerate side to you, but don’t worry Jahmany, I’ll take care of both of us this time.”

“V-vut–”

“Trust me,” The Italian requested as he pulled himself up and grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside counter, “what I-a have in mind will-a definately feel good for-a both of us thanks to-a my technique.”

The German watched as his husband poured a generous amount of the substance on his fingers, fully realizing what the man was alluding to.

“Now-a my Germany, will you-a spread your legs for me please?,” the shorter man asked with a smile.

The taller man felt his face begin to steam again and coyly opened his legs. He glanced back and forth between his lover and the wall until he closed his eyes and muttered, “be gentle… okay?”

Italy almost couldn’t contain himself from how cute his husband could be. He circled his middle finger around the rim of the blonde’s hole as he leaned over to his face and planted a gentle kiss. He reassured him, “don’t worry, just tell me if somethings wrong” as he slowly plunged the finger inside of him.

The taller man squirmed in discomfort and the Italian planted gentle kisses along his neck to soothe him.

“Is it-a alright? How does it-a feel?”

“It’z… vierd… it doesn’t hurt zhough…mmnn.. you can move…”

Gently as promised, Italy slowly plunged in and out with his lubed up middle finger, feeling the warm interiors of his husband. Soft squelches resonated within the room.

“...Italy… I zink I’m ready for anothzer vun…,” Germany mumbled as he became used to the intrusion.

He only squirmed a little bit when the second finger entered him. This time he quickly found himself becoming accustomed to the sensation and asked for another. He was about to mentally congratulate himself for adapting so quickly, but stopped himself once he realized he was about to feel proud of being able to get used to being fingered quickly.

The blonde felt a slight burn when the third heavily lubed finger entered him and let out a small, “ah—ah-”. He wrapped his arms around his husband and whined into his neck. Italy gently shushed him and continued soothing him with kisses and praise as he carefully stretched the German open.

He gently scissored the man’s hole as he went in and out, searching for his lover’s prostate.

Germany in all honesty was getting a bit tired, since the sensation wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it didn’t really feel good either. He had practiced on his own before for Italy, but he couldn’t figure out how to make it feel like much else than just fingers in his ass. Plus the rim of his hole was starting to burn from the fingers going in and out. But it did feel good to know that Italy was going to feel really good soon, and that part did keep him turned on and hard.

Suddenly, Italy’s fingers touched a certain spot and he felt as though a flash of lightning struck through him. He let out a loud moan as he white knuckled the sheets and forced his legs not to clench together.

Italy’s face lit up and he happily cheered, “Jahmany! Jahmany I finally found your prostate! I bet that-a felt really good didn’t it!!” He removed his fingers with a shlick and poured a generous amount of lube on his own dick that was now so hard it was almost painful.

“J… Ja.. zat did feel good,” Germany uttered in response, feeling a bit empty without the fingers.

“I’m glad Jahmany! After all, I want-a this to feel good for you too.”

The shorter man lined himself up against his husband’s hole and leaned the rest of his body down to meet their faces together.

“Jahmany, are you-a ready?”

“J—Ja, I trust you Italien,” Germany replied, meeting his eyes to show that he was serious with no doubts.

Italy smiled and leaned down to sweetly kiss the man below him as he slowly entered.

Germany wrapped his arms tighter around Italy as he carefully went deeper and deeper, a low burn growing from the intrusion. The blonde let out little “ah”s as Italy reminded him to relax and soothed him by running his hands down the man’s sides until he was fully inside him.

They paused for a moment to let the taller man adjust a bit to the member stuck inside him.

After a minute or so of Germany squirming and Italy fighting for his life not to bust a nut instantly, the taller man muttered, “I’m okay now… you can move Italy.”

Italy grit his eyes closed as he slowly moved in and out. Germany was tight– freaking too tight even– holy shit. Italy thought about making a joke about how he didn’t expect to get circumcised this way, but held himself back knowing it would ruin the mood. Instead he whispered in his husband’s ear, “Cuore mio, relax for me. It's alright, you can do this, just relax.”

“Of.. of course Italy”

He felt the taller man bury his face into the brunette’s neck as he slowly softened around him, still on the tight side, but at least it wasn’t a gorilla grip anymore.

Italy set back on his steady, slow pace. Each thrust eliciting a little moan from the man beneath him. He kept at it for a bit, trying to figure out what angle to thrust at to hit the man’s prostate once again until he did a thrust and felt the blonde clench harshly around him, arching his back as he did so.

Now having confidence in knowing where to hit, he quickened his pace and aimed towards that same spot. “You’re so good for me Germany, you know that?”

Germany’s face steamed even hotter somehow. “Ah, Italien— ah— mmm— mmmphh–,” he covered his mouth to muffle his moans that came spilling out uncontrollably.

“Jahmany don’t deprive me, I want to hear all the cute sounds you make,” Italy panted as he snatched the German’s hands away from his mouth.

“Good boy, good boy.”

He kissed the man once again as he continued to pick up the pace, whispering sweet words of praise into his husband’s ear.

The taller man whimpered and tears pricked his eyes as he arched his back. The Italian moved his hands to the German’s hips to get better leverage, while his husband hugged his legs and arms around Italy.

“Ah, ah, I love you– I love you Italy–,” Germany babbled into Italy’s shoulder, “I-I really love you– Ich liebe d—dich!-”

The shorter man knew his lover liked kissing best, but how could he expect Italy to kiss him when he kept saying these kinds of cute things when he didn’t?

“Anch'io ti amo Jahmany– ti amo tanto!,” he replied, feeling himself hitting the edge soon.

He needed to wrap things up soon, so he let go of his husband’s hip with the hand still slippery from lube and used that to start stroking the blonde’s cock vigorously.

“Ah– AH! Nuugh– that– that feels— Ah! r—really.. G-good—,” Germany mewled, “I– I feel —Ah, ah, s-something— build.. ngh— ing up–! I— ah– Ah– I think–”

“Do you– you hah— think you’re going to come?”

Italy picked up his pace, both stroking his dick and slamming into him.

“Then come for me Germany”

Germany spasmed and let out a broken string of moans as he came. He hugged Italy tight and the brunette could feel his walls clenching around him, bringing the shorter man over the brink as well with a loud groan.

He pumped into the man below him a few more times, riding out his orgasm as Germany whimpered from becoming a little overstimulated.

He pulled out slowly, before collapsing on top of his lover and instinctually burying his face into the man’s tits.

Both of them lay panting for a moment, as Italy maneuvered himself to lay next to his lover, and gathered him up in a hug that Germany weakly reciprocated.

“Well, Germany, what did you think of your first time having sex?,” Italy inquired.

Germany, now becoming fully lucid again, first realized how sweaty and sticky he felt, thus he replied, “Sticky.”

He thought for a little bit longer.

“But I also admit it was good. Even if I acted a bit shamefully…,” he lowered his eyes and averted his gaze.

Italy laughed and only hugged his husband tighter.

The blonde felt discomfort from the two warm and sweaty bodies pressing up against each other even closer, but nevertheless hugged his lover back because even though his body felt warm, his heart felt warm too. His body also felt kinda sore. Maybe even a lot sore. Actually he might have to rethink his 5 AM jogging laps with the condition his body was currently in.

But that was still fine too, since he probably would’ve only done a quarter of his laps anyways since Italy would be with him and get distracted by a cat or something.

For now, he settled with snuggling into Italy’s arms and began to doze off to sleep, exhausted from their activities.

That is until he felt the Italian bolt up after five minutes and shake his shoulder asking, “hey Germany wanna go for round two?”

[whovianwholikesgirls]

Kate and Jonathan being pinning idiots in love during Will’s fucking funeral in s1 lol

God, he’s so fucking beauitful, Kate thought to themselves. Which was highly inappropriate considering that at this moment they were at Will’s funeral. They missed him, not as much as Jonathan and Joyce obviously, but they still felt this missing piece whenever they stayed over at the Byers’ house. Now was not the time to be thinking about how good Jonathan looked in his suit.

You’re just looking at them as a distraction to your grief. That’s not fair to them, or to yourself. Fuck! Now they’re looking at you, Byers. Nice going! Jonathan had to shift his attention now though because the service was starting. His face burned the entire time because instead of grieving his brother, all he could think about was how Kate’s eyes met his.

There was a line of tension between them that he wanted to snap. At that moment, he didn’t care where he was because his world became Kate. All he wanted to do was to walk across the field where his brother was being buried, take the hand of the person who had been his best friend since he was six, and drive. He didn’t care where he drove, he just knew that he felt better when all that existed was him, Kate, and whatever cassette they decided they wanted as the soundtrack to their drive. Kate always picked R.E.M’s Murmur and Jonathan always felt himself get butterflies whenever he thought about the fact that an album that he had introduced his best friend to on a whim, had not only become one of their favorite albums but also the soundtrack to his favorite moments with them.

One of his favorite things in the world was when one of Kate’s favorite songs from either album would start playing, he would feel them take his hand and squeeze. Jonanthan, this is it!! It’s my song!! He believed it, he believed that Michael Stipe and Peter Buck had written “Perfect Circle” and “West of the Fields” just for them.

He felt a familiar pressure on his hand that brought him out of his daydream.

“The service was nice.” They said, “and you….. Well, you look nice.”

“Thanks,” he said, hoping they didn’t spend too long calling his name or anything while he daydreamed about them. That would be embarrassing. “You look nice too.”

They blushed. “Listen, I totally understand if you want to stay here and support your mom or spend some more time with Will. Honestly, it’s probably selfish of me to ask but-“

He didn’t let them finish that thought. “Yes. Yes, I want to get out of here. And it’s never selfish for you to ask to spend time together, ever.”

He took both of their hands in his because it felt like the thing he needed to do to ground himself in order to admit the next part. He didn’t give himself time to overthink what that might mean, he just knew that they needed to hear this.

“Spending time with you has been the one, no actually, the only thing that has kept me sane. Not just now but honestly since the moment I met you when we were six and the very first thing you said to me was, ‘do you like to read?’ Then we spent the entire day comparing bookshelves. Okay now I’m rambling but just….” He took a deep breath, “Never doubt how much I want to spend time with you.”

They grinned. “Noted. Come on, let’s get out of here. It’s been a long day and we deserve one of our usual driving dates with Michael, Peter, Mike, and Bill.”

Date. The word made Jonathan’s head swim.

This is the other mini fic to make it out of the Google doc and into the Tumblr blog @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @itsfreakingbats

In the self shipping community here, ships have a tagline that’s not just their ship name. I’m thankful for Kristen’s brain for coming up w mine🥰🥰🥰🥰 They give me butterflies🫣🥹🥹🥹🥹

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

"Iris," I sighed, and felt my spirit slip away from my body. I saw myself begin to glow, and wondered if all those who faced me saw it too. I knew I was in the spirit world now. Iris only grasped those souls who Hera so blessed. Iris was also known to be an instigator, and she had a way with arson and burning ships. "Does this mean I'm going to die?" I ask, feeling her hand in my left one. I watch my body and her sword begin to fight the crowd.

"No," says Iris. "But you're going to have to heal. Healing is what hurts, feeling the pain, not how it is inflicted. In fact, your body happens to like it. Blame it on the Plutonium build." "Not like... all the time or any situation. My body doesn't like pain or seek it out. It's ready to take it if it has to, though. I think it's more of a smashochist than a masochist," I counter quickly. Iris and I grin at each other with delight. I suddenly realize what's going on. "You're distracting me while I wage my war. Keeping my hopes up so I can keep fighting," I say, still watching the battle with interest. My body is getting really good at lopping off heads. Iris pouts at me, "I am. But, you didn't even say my name. You called for someone else in your darkest night. My pride was hurt."

"Yeah, I'm sure that was pretty annoying on your end," I say with a wince and a nod.

"I mean I'm used to it. Everyone always calls on him when they want inspiration or something to happen quickly. When they want a muse. What is more swift than a rainbow? What is more quick than lightning? I have both and am the daughter of the very skies and still they call for him," begins Iris in a monologue that begins increasing in both speed and volume. Her hand gestures also get more animated as she begins to pace. Can anyone really blame the goddess of the rainbow for a bit of a vanity? She gestures to her feet, and then to her scepter, the jewels forged into the wooden staff glowing in multiple colors that matched the passion of her ranting.

"Don't I also have the winged shoes?! These braiding serpents and the starfire fused into a sacred branch my father himself chose from the heart of a holy tree? They call on me for rain but never for inspiration, or even like you, for salvation. I have harvested the brave souls of Dido and Joan of Arc and all the other mortals of the spheres that gave their life to inspire people and things that changed the world. Just as much as him," she said, glaring at me.

"And yet you brought him anyway. Doesn't that say something about your love for me? I didn't even ask you, and yet you still looked into the deepest parts of my heart to show me again who I was. I had completely forgotten. You chose me over any pride or vanity you had, especially considering how I treated you. You've saved my life over and over with the stories we tell ourselves together. The worlds you have taken me to. The songs we sing and love. That was all you and all me. You never let me lose hope, even when I have every reason to. You've always been there. And it makes perfect sense that you're upset that I didn't call out for you when I needed someone most. You've always had a song or a story or a way of showing me how to look at things that got me to this point," I say all this in a stream of consciousness, and for the entire time the goddess stands still. Usually she is orbiting me when I speak to her. It always makes me dizzy.

"You really did learn how to stand up for yourself better. You've improved your emotional management skills and you're more aware of how to change your own behavior. You don't... exactly follow what you know yet," Iris says, glancing over to the battle and then back to me with a smile. "It's all integrating however my body allows it to," I say with a wave of my hand. "I think our entire triad put points into stubbornness." Iris considers this, and nods thoughtfully.

"I won't forget you again. I promise," I tell her softly.

She nods again, and looks back at the battlefield. She's forgiven me, I know, but she still holds some sadness about the situation. I know it will ease with time. She's good with her raining melancholy, and lightning bolt spite, but she loves being the aspects of a delightful rainbow the most.

"You'll win this. You will be okay, but I know it's scary. Just keep talking to me and we'll figure it all out. You're only lost when you forget that I'm here waiting to help you. Like I said, there's not many that call on me. Not like you always have. I love being your friend." Now it's my turn to look at the battle, overwhelmed by all that she has to say. I'm glad I'm not in my body. The biochemical reactions of my earthen form would be wild right now. The spirit may not embody emotions, but we're still aware of them. "I'll remember that. Can I ask one question, though? You have to promise not to get mad," I say, looking over my shoulder to regard her closely. "I promise," she says, instantly curious. Curiosity is always her first instinct. "Does he think about me too?" I ask.

"All the fucking time," she giggles.

"Good," I say with a smirk and look back at the war.

“Pick a god and pray” they said, and you did, praying to every god you knew. And as you did this a name popped into your mind, one you didn’t recognize, yet you prayed to them all the same. In response the air stood still, like even the world had forgotten their name.

[sneakyswag]

Mwahahah your turn!

🧠🌂🔥

GAHH long post jumpscare

🧠- What fictional character do you relate to the most?

I think I’ve done a similar one to this one before, but in a different ask game. For the fun of it, I’ll probably have to say X or Axl.

X stresses so bad it’s exhausting. Kind of like me. I’ve been struggling with that lately. As well as body aches caused by stress (gah my shoulders qwq). But pushing those worries away, I’ve gone through loads of emotional turmoil. So much so that it’s made me bitter in a way. Sure, I’m kind and polite, but I never open up. Sure, in some asks I do, such as this one, because it’s a good question. But in real life? No. You will see me in a corner, arms crossed, smiling at the people having fun, but never actually interacting.

Axl, because he’s silly as frick and has bad timing with jokes. Likes guns and is the life of the party (depends on who I’m with). Axl is also a pretty good friend despite being a goofball. You’d think because he’s young he’d be immature, which he is sometimes, but other times he’s very mature and deals with situations accordingly. I do say that our difference is that he leads and thinks with emotion. I only do that when writing.

Also someone else, @bruggle ‘s Brook. No way like when I wrote fics with her in them, I was like “holy crap she is so me” and wrote her based off of experiences I myself had. Bruggle actually told me I wrote her well, which I thank Brugs for. Though I might be projecting juuust a little bit. Brook is so so angry and bitter it makes my head spin, but she can also be so so funny and silly at the same time. She’s a good friend and a good person, just angry at the world for what it did to her (come on, we’ve all been there). Anyways wow this is a stretch I’m so sorry- BAHAH

🌂- You have to choose three fiction characters to help you survive in the apocalypse, who are you picking? (I could write an essay over this one)

Ah, geez. I’m terrible at this. Zero from Mega Man X. He’s tactical, smart, strong, precise, will probably help out a lot if it means we all make it out. Only bad point is, he’s reckless. Even so, he’s strong as frick and also, Reploid! So even stronger than your average fighter.

Ralsei from Deltarune. With his powers, he can mend and also help Zero with his injuries from time to time. Ralsei has all kinds of powers that would be useful and his attitude would be perfect to maintain that optimistic attitude within the team. He can also be a good distraction!

And last, but not least, Jigglypuff from Pokémon. Do I even have to explain this one? Jigglypuff can get super tough enemies out of the way by singing his sleepy song and boom! They’re out. Also a good idea for sleepless nights we might have. So

Zero is the fighter, Ralsei is the mage/optimist, Jigglypuff is the ultimate distraction. Ralsei is also like super responsible so he’d probably have a lot of supplies on him. Zero has his weapons on him and will make sure none of us get hurt. Jigglypuff is that little ball of joy the group definitely needs. So yeah. My take.

🔥- Name a crackship, now convince me why it would work!

Ahah…ah, man. Alright so, I wrote for this ship months ago and when you said crack ship, my mind immediately went back to Samus and X. HEAR ME OUT-

I was playing Smash with a couple of friends and one of ‘em was drooling over Samus (no surprise there) and started making jokes about me getting my butt kicked by Samus (I main Mega Man) and made a couple of jokes. Another one of my friends, brought up the fact that Zero was in Smash as an assist and how he wished X was in as an echo for classic Mega Man.

After a little discussion, we imagined what X would be like as a fighter. The same friend that brought it up, decided it was a fine idea to google Samus x Mega Man and found a pic of Samus and X. It clicked for me and we started giggling like the idiots we are. Because Samus is like totally X’s type though. Girlboss, tall, blonde, can kick your ass and his in more ways than one, like what is there not to like? I haven’t looked into Samus’ love interests much because she’s still such a mystery, but my goodness she’s amazing. X would be head over heels for her, no way.

[missdbrill]

23.04.23

Ok so the below was a total fail. He ended up coming over at 10pm and as usual by then I'd told myself the narrative that he simply doesn't care enough. However per below I sucked it up and tried to get on enjoying my time with him. However strike 2 was him not initiating and intimacy. Strike 3 was having sex and he was completely silent. Of course the absolute ball of despair I had been pushing down deep inside me all week just exploded. And I cried. Again. Fml. I hate getting like that in front of him. He said all the right things as usual but it didn't seem sincere or at that point I was just overanalysing everything. Went to sleep and woke up with an absolute iron fist clenching my heart. He was lieing right next to me and yet felt a million miles away. I needed more reassurance. I didn't get it as he was asleep. At that point I tried to reason with my crazy mind and said let's see how he is with me when he wakes up. And he felt good, he hugged me and kissed me. It felt normal even after the night before. I started to regain my confidence in us.

Then when Blake was at his party and we were at home alone I had the conversation I needed to have. He looked frustrated at times but I trusted that if it was meant to be he needed to hear me out and it wouldn't push him away. And we had a proper chat finally. I want to write it all down for my future POV. I want to remind myself this is who is he and how he operates.

So with regards to not missing me as much he said he always has no much distracting him from missing me. Which I do get and I understand in a way. He said he'd explained the job situation and I get that. But I also explained I wanted to feel wanted, I wanted to feel loved (he told me I am loved ❤️) and that I wanted this relationship to be it for me. I asked if we are still working towards the same future goals as we had always said and he said of course, nothing's changed. And those 2 words brought me so much peace. Nothing has changed for him about us. This is just learning how he processes things, how he deals with life and who he is as a person. I had also earlier asked him if he had thought about breaking up with me and he said No so strongly that it felt good and it felt genuine. I believe in him I really do. As much as he hasbso many quirks as a person he is very authentic. And that means so much to me. All day he has been quiet, we had sex again and it was quiet. But this time I didn't take it personally. I took it as that's where his mind is right now and that's how he's feeling. I get the sense this weekend that he wasn't in a relationship mood and I get that. The fact he still showed up for me is what matteers.

For some reason he fascinates me as a person. He is so deep and intense and yet also quite hard work to understand and manage. But weirdly I like that. I like getting to know what manes him tick and jow his mind works. The fluctuations in his moods. When he is in the mood to be in love it's so amazing and I could not feel more loved and cherished. I adore how he strokes my head and my face. I'm learning to notice the little things, the touches of affection even when he is being quiet. The way he strokes my arm or holds my hand. When he is not in the mood to be in love he is quiet and broody and you can literally see a thousand thoughts going through his brain. I do understand him though and I relate to him so much. I think it will be hard work at times but for reasons that are worth it not ones that aren't. I really adore him. It really is loving the imperfectly perfect and that's how it should be.

[laughing-with-god]

The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook’s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

--

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note:  So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next.  The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life.  Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ.  Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol.  This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments.  Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads​ once again for creating the cover art for this fic.  They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop​! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic.  They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar.  They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while.  I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.