#this has been sitting in my drafts forever and i feel like it deserves to see the light of day

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

Body Paint, live @ The Late Late Show 2022 💙

[peachsukii]

unbreakable bonds ꒰ no quirks au | childhood friends | friends to lovers ꒱ ⇢ a collective of family bonding and little moments between you and katsuki.

『♡』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ tags & content ꒱ emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, happiness all around ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — just wanted to write something sickly sweet and it’s been sitting in my drafts forever. reader has a little sister that helps bond the two of you together over the years. cross posted to ao3 | word count; 3.3k -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

You were too young - a little over three - to understand the day your mom brought home your little sister. You'd been secretly asking the universe for a sibling, someone to share everything with. Ask and you shall receive! But, you never knew just how much she would shape your life into what it is today.

The Kingdom - Elementary School

Fourth grade is when you and Katsuki started to play after school together on a daily basis. Him and Izuku would come by and grab snacks from your mom while you went back to the park around the corner, playing pirates and super heroes with the other neighborhood kids. Every so often, your mom would ask for you to bring your sister along. You never minded, even though she was your baby sister in first grade. The boys would pick on her - lovingly, of course - to make her feel included with the rest of the pack. She loved being around you, cooing and giggling away as she'd hold your hand and squeal with delight.

One day at the park, she'd declared herself to be queen of the castle as she stood on the slide, proudly puffing out her chest with her hands on her hips.

"I am the queen, and what I say goes!" she pointed to you and Katsuki. "Sissy will be the princess and you will be our royal guard, Katsu!"

You chuckle. "Isn't the older sister supposed to be queen?"

She does her best impression of a royal laugh, projecting her voice theatrically. "Not in my land! It's my kingdom and if you don't like it, I'll send you to the brig!"

"You're confusin' pirates 'n princesses again,” Katsuki taunts playfully.

She stomps her foot on the slide. “Silence in my kingdom! Izu will be my knight!”

Katsuki pouts. “Hey! Why don’t I get to be the knight?!’

“Cause I say so! You’re the royal guard cause you’re tough. Izu is the knight because he’s brave!”

You can’t help but let out a loud ‘hah!’ at her comment. Your sister never failed to push Katsuki in the cutest ways - he probably was thankful to be an only child whenever you guys would go home for the day.

Katsuki huffs at her declaration, taking the challenge with stride. “Fine! I’ll show you who’s tough and be the best dang guard in the whole world.”

“Do I get a cool set of armor, queen?” Izuku asks, bouncing up and down at the bottom of the slide.

“Of course! Only the best armor and ponies for my royal kingdom.”

She sits and pushes herself down the metal slide, rocketing off the edge past Izuku and barreling toward Katsuki. She trucks into him at full force - but, being small, that force isn’t much for him to withstand.

“What the heck was that for?!” he yells while catching her before she hits the wood chips.

“A test of your toughness, Katsu! And you passed! You’re deserving of a spot in my kingdom,” she giggles, mashing his cheeks together with her tiny palms. He protests her closeness and tries to fight her off, setting her feet back on the ground while she’s wiggling in his hold. Watching the two of them act like siblings themselves always made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside, knowing your two closest friends also adored your sister as much as you did.

You meander over to grab her from him. “Alright, I think you made your point, queen. Your guard and knight have other duties to get to.”

She waves goodbye to the boys over her shoulder as the two of you stroll home for dinner. She gleefully remarks how cool they are and that she can’t wait to marry them someday.

You can’t help but giggle at the thought. “Both of them? Wow, all to yourself, huh?”

She pouts and whips her head upward. “No, sissy! We both get one!”

”Oh yeah? Because you’re the queen of the kingdom, you get to pick?”

“That’s right! They’ll have to fight to see who gets to pick you!”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head at the thought. You’re only ten years old, the thought of boys fighting over you was hilarious.

”Promise not to tell Izu, but I think Katsu would win that fight,” she whispers, tugging on your hand to get you to lean over closer to her face. “He’s taller and faster!”

The thought of marrying Katsuki flashes in your mind - you have zero clue what that even looks like, but you imagine him bringing you flowers on the playground or giving you a bite of his ice cream. A blush creeps over your cheeks and nose at the thought. Your sister catches your reaction and gasps dramatically.

“You like Katsu?!” she exclaims.

You shush her. “No! Don’t go yelling that!”

That’s a big fat lie. You liked him a lot, he was your favorite person, but you’re kids.

It’s just a harmless crush.

───

An Enchanted Afternoon - Elementary School

A week later, the four of you returned to the playground after school. Snacks from your pantry in hand, the bunch of you sit on the swing set to eat. Your sister seemed extremely eager today, more so than usual. Once you all finished eating, she demanded your attention.

"Gather 'round! Your queen summons you," she declares, arms raised above her head. You and the boys huddle around her.

"Katsu, go fetch flowers!" she orders as she points to a nearby patch of grass. "Zuzu, clear out the sandbox of any villagers."

There wasn't anyone else here today, so that job was easily done. Izuku doesn't say anything and smiles as he heads over to the sandbox as ordered. Katsuki is confused, nose scrunched and arms crossed.

"Why do I need to get flowers?" he asks, tapping his foot in the wood chips.

"Do you dare defy your queen?!" she shouts, grinning wickedly. He obliges, sauntering over to the grass to find a few spare daisies.

"What's all this for?" you ask, genuinely curious to her plans. She doesn’t answer you as she grabs you by the wrist, dragging you over to the sandbox.

A few minutes later, Katsuki comes back with a handful of daisies, picked and pruned clean of any dirt and weeds. Izuku stands on the edge of the sandbox patiently.

”Perfect! Katsu, Sissy, please approach your queen.”

You play along and stand in front of her with Katsuki. It’s amusing how small she is in comparison to the two of you, easily shadowing over her figure.

“With my knight as witness, I give the blessing to the princess and royal guard to be married forever!” she exclaims, waving her hands around to mimic casting a magic spell.

You're pretty sure she got that line from a princess movie, but that doesn't make the sentiment any less adorable. You begin to chuckle to yourself, smiling ear to ear before turning toward Katsuki. You're expecting him to be disgusted, repulsed by something so sickly sweet, but are shocked to see him standing with the flowers outstretched in your direction. He's biting his bottom lip and avoiding eye contact by staring directly at your feet.

"H-here," he whispers meekly, pushing the flowers into your hands. You've never seen him so shy before - that's usually Izuku's demeanor. His unexpected affection makes your little heart flutter in your chest.

"Thank you 'Suki," is all you can muster up the courage to say, your mind running blank on the right thing to say. It's just an imaginary scenario...It's not real, not like you're actually marrying him. Katsuki exhales, turning his back to you to hide his strawberry colored cheeks.

"Now you're together forever!" you sister raves, dancing on her tip toes with satisfaction.

Maybe that was the moment she bound you two together with some unknown magical force, or it was a mere coincidence. The sappy part of your young brain believed in fairytales and chose to believe she was weaving your golden string to him, binding you two for life.

───

Leftovers - Middle School

”Yo, brats! Come eat already so I can get the hell outta here,” Katsuki called from your doorway. He’d come by with leftovers from his mom for you and your sister, since your own mom was working later that day. The two of you were still…friends? You weren’t sure. Being in seventh grade and all, he started acting like you weren’t cool enough for him. He did the same to Izuku, starting to ditch the two of you for other kids in class to hang out with at lunch or walk home with. Did it hurt your feelings? Absolutely. But you didn’t own him, he was allowed to have other friends, even if it did suck to see him less outside of class.

“Coming!” you called back, skipping down the hallway with your sister in tow. She happily ran into the entryway, hugging Katsuki by the waist. She was taller now, but still much smaller than him as a fourth grader.

“Hiya Katsu!” she gleamed up at him, rubbing her face against his uniform jacket.

He grunted, uncomfortable with her sudden affection and poking her in the forehead to release her grip. “Let go, squirt!”

He turned his attention to you as your sister finally let go of him. “Here, take these. I gotta get to practice.”

”Thank you! Tell your mom we said hi.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You hand the containers to your sister as she wanders off to the table. Before Katsuki opens the door, you tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, are you alright?”

He scoffs at your question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem distant lately. Wanna come by sometime for a movie marathon?” you ask, tilting your head and giving him a warm smile.

“We’re not kids anymore. Got better stuff to do.”

Ouch, that stung. Your smile fades away as you reply. “Well…I know. I just miss hanging out with you.”

“You have Deku an’ that other group of bitches you hang out with, ya don’t need me.” His harsh comment has notes of jealousy intertwined in his words. He goes to put his hand on the door again before you take a step forward to stop him.

“Kat, they’re not a replacement for you. You’ve got your own friends now, too since you’re on the soccer team. You’re saying we can’t hang out 'cause we have different friends?”

He glares at you before pushing past you and pulling on the front door.

“Hey!” your sister shouts from the dining area. “Katsu, that’s not nice. My royal guard doesn't act like that!” She’s always thought of Katsuki as a guard since your elementary school playground days.

“Cut the shit! We’re not kids anymore!” Katsuki rebuttals with a growl of frustration.

He makes eye contact with you. “We’ve grown apart, end of fuckin’ story. Get over it.”

He slams your front door closed and leaves you standing in the entryway, your eyes stinging from the urge to cry. You feel a small gust of wind rush by as your sister is sprinting to the door, throwing it open and running outside without shoes on.

“Hey!” She calls after Katsuki. “Get your butt back here, Katsu!”

He turns on his heel. “Hah?!”

She stomps on the ground, fists balled at her sides. “Apologize to her!”

Katsuki cackles, a little too manically. “For what, brat?”

“You’re being a mean jerk to her! She doesn’t deserve to be yelled at like that. Friends are friends forever, idiot!” she yells, her cheeks puffed and eyebrows scrunched together.

You can’t help but stifle a laugh at her calling Katsuki an idiot and turn your head to hide your amusement.

”That’s not who you are, Katsu. That’s not how you treat your princess!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and screws his eyes shut in annoyance, exhaling dramatically. He locks his gaze on you, storming back up to the doorway. He roughly ruffles your sister’s hair as he passes by her as a pseudo apology. Katsuki sucks the air through his teeth and shoves his fists in his pockets as he stops in front of you.

“Look, ‘m sorry for yellin’, okay?” he sighs, kicking a foot against the pavement. “I'll come over Saturday, we’ll have that movie day ya wanted.”

"You don't need to if you feel forced to hang out with me." Your eyes shift to your feet to avoid looking at his reaction.

" 's fine. I'll be here at noon, don't pick anything lame."

With that, he turns to leave for a second time in silence. You watch him disappear around the corner and can't help but feel like a burden for asking him to make time for you. As if reading your mind, your sister shakes you out of the negative train of thought while walking back to the house.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just being a dumb boy. That’s what my teacher says when boys are mean for no reason.” She grins a toothy smile up at you and grabs your hand. “Come on! Foods getting cold!”

Katsuki rounded the corner and waited to be out of sight before palming his face in anger. He had no idea why he said those things to you. None of it was true, especially that you’d grown apart. If anything, he was jealous of your friends and missed seeing you all the time. But he couldn’t bring himself to say so, like always. Ever since middle school started, he’d harbored some unknown rage inside of him that lashed out every chance it could. He hated it and didn’t know what to do to stop it - hence trying out for the soccer team, looking for an outlet for the pent up emotions in his body.

Katsuki secretly hoped you wouldn’t end up despising him for it. Even after all this time, he still thinks of you whenever he sees a patch of daisies.

Maybe one day he’d be brave enough to tell you about it.

───

Running Late - High School

The front door to your home opens as Katsuki slips inside, kicking his loafers off by the door. Your younger sister peaks over the kitchen counter while spreading jam over her toast and nods in his direction.

"Hey Katsu, pretty sure she's still asleep upstairs," she calls, rolling her eyes. "I tried to get her up three times, maybe you'll have better luck."

It was hard to believe that she was already in her freshmen year of high school - shit, it’s crazy that you and Katsuki were seniors. The age of playground days and summer adventures went by in the blink of an eye.

He makes his way to the kitchen island, leaning over to ruffle your sister’s hair - some things never change.

"Thanks, bean. I'll get her ass movin’."

“Stooop! You’ll mess up my hair!” She whines as she pulls away, fixing a few stray pieces of her fluffy mane.

“Ya look fine, don’t sweat it,” he compliments while heading for the staircase. He makes his way to your bedroom on the second floor. The door is surprisingly cracked open - he taps on the doorframe to grab your attention.

“Come in,” you call, lying on your bed facing the wall above the covers while scrolling on your phone. You presume it’s your sister until a soft kiss is planted on your cheek.

“Mornin’ sweets,” Katsuki whispers, rubbing your shoulder to turn you to face him. He sits on the edge of your bed beside you. “You wanna be late for our last first day of high school?”

You shift to sit up and drop your phone to your bed, reaching to cradle his face in your hands.

“No, I just wanted to steal a few kisses first,” you mumble as your lips quietly meet his. Katsuki places one hand on your cheek while the other lightly grazes your back. After a few moments, the two of you part with a soft smack. You stand and straighten up your uniform skirt, flattening a few of the panels to work out any stray creases.

“Do I look okay?” You ask, spinning around for Katsuki and showing off your uniform. Your hair was pulled into a pretty ponytail with a few pieces framing your face. The only make up you had on was some lip gloss - you valued sleeping in over doing a minimalist makeup look today.

“Y’always look good,” he sighs, standing to his feet. “Let’s get movin’ before bean suspects somethin’.”

You hadn’t told your sister about your relationship with Katsuki. Sure, you guys had been friends since you were children and he’s always around…how would she know the difference?

The two of you patter down the hallway and skip down the stairs to the kitchen. Your sister is waiting for the two of you, arms crossed and tapping one foot impatiently.

“Finally! Get your damn shoes on,” she orders while pushing you toward the door. She does a double take at Katsuki while you’re putting on your shoes, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Katsu…are you wearing lipgloss?”

Oops.

Katsuki’s searching for something to say as his face glows scarlet. He puts a hand on the back of his neck and turns away, grumbling while attempting to hide his embarrassment.

“Oh come on, you two. I knew you guys started dating months ago. You think I didn’t notice?”

You spin around to face her, cheeks puffed and eyebrows scrunched. “You never said anything?!”

She laughs, walking up to Katsuki and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“If you ever hurt her, Katsuki, I’ll knock your lights out. I know where you sleep,” she threatens, grinning mischievously. Katsuki pulls her into a headlock, ruffling her hair a second time.

“Deal, but I plan on stayin’ alive.” He lets her go, chuckling as he smooths out the pieces of hair he messed with.

Seeing the two of them get along never fails to make your heart swell with joy. Katsuki has always treated her like his own sister - one that he could easily give back at the end of every day, anyways.

She turns with a huff with her hands in the air.

“You both have my blessing, you should know that. I didn’t marry you two in a sandbox for nothing!”

───

Today Was A Fairytale - Current Day

“It’s an honor to be doing this for a second time. You’re in luck, my vocabulary has grown exponentially since our sandbox days.”

There’s a wave of laughter through the crowd at your sister’s lighthearted joke. You can’t help but smile as Katsuki’s fingers dance across the back of your hand to regather your attention.

God, he looks so damn handsome in that tux. His usual wild hair is slicked back and tamed - an extremely rare sight. Carmine eyes stare back at you, full of devotion and excitement for this next chapter in your fairytale.

“By the power vested in me, and these people as my witness, I pronounce you two as king and queen of the kingdom!”

Friends and family alike cheer and whistle as you and Katsuki intertwine, kissing each other for the first time as husband and wife. He spins you around and dips you low, kissing the tip of your nose playfully.

“I love you,” he mouths, a silent profession of adoration - reserved just for you.

The two of you strut down the aisle to the dance floor in the reception hall, the DJ already queuing the first dance song. Katsuki gently tugs you by the waist, pulling you closer to him as he begins to sway side to side when the music begins to fill the room. You rest your head against his chest and get lost in the moment.

Right now, the world belongs to the two of you. Every worry, struggle, and hardship is stripped away from your lives to give you the peace you deserve.

There’s one thought that lingers in your mind as you catch a glimpse of your teary-eyed sister watching you from the corner of the dance floor, latched onto Izuku’s arm for support.

She tied that golden string with an unbreakable knot.

tags 💥 @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon

[druidrot]

Okay 1 and 13 from the sultry prompts list feel VERY Gale to me, if that inspires you at all!

Your honor, based on provided evidence the jury has come to the conclusion that Gale Dekarios is indeed guilty of being a munch. Not actual smut but like pretty damn suggestive. It borders on it. It’s dirty. Don’t talk to me 😭😭

Real talk I’m sorry this has sat in my drafts for so long. Anon, you deserve better but work has been draining lately and tonight for some reason was the night my mind decided to work. Anyways muah i love u thank u for requesting, i hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Gale Dekarios x Reader

Prompts:

1. A kiss to the thigh

13. You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me.

Rating: Explicit - MDNI

warnings: foreplay, like lots of it. this came out a lil worship-y but gale is a fucking loser and I’m so weak to that shit. i say that with the most love but 😭😭. allusions to good ole’ cunillingus babey!

unsure of the word count

Gale takes his time tonight.

There is no urgency in his actions, no desperation–just pure, unadulterated adoration. His hands are gentle against your skin, soft, like too much pressure might shatter you like glass. He is resolute though, driven, unyielding in the face of his desire for you. He knows exactly how to touch you; he knows exactly where to touch you. It's like your body was made to be known by him, to be loved by him.

You sit comfortably in the big armchair he has nestled in his study, legs spread wide to accommodate his frame. He is kneeled before you like a man devoted; like a man pious, besotted and yearning for you . He looks so very hungry when he turns his gaze up to meet yours, though his smile is soft, beckoning, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You answer his smile with one of your own, smoothing a hand through his hair as he begins to creep his hands under your dressing gown.

"I will never tire of this," he murmurs, reverent, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your knee. "I will always be starved for you, my star. I will never have enough; there will never be enough to satiate the hunger you inspire.”

You can’t help the silly, lovesick grin that pulls at your lips. To you, he is breathtaking in his want for you, unabashed and proud. You love the way he loves you, so fully, so complete, like this is what the two of you were made to do together. It is intense, all-encompassing, makes your insides twist and turn.

“You spoil me rotten,” you whisper, all sweet smile laced with heavy-handed desire. “I burn for you, Mr. Dekarios. You make me ache.”

He offers a punched-out sound, a chuckle, and his molten eyes darken in the heat of his want. His kisses grow heavy, then, hot where they land on your skin, teasing where they trail up and up and up…

“You are my renewal and ruin all at once,” he breathes, sticky with need. “I am lost to you, my darling. Eternally lost to you.”

You mewl, tangling your fingers in his chestnut hair. “Show me, my love. Show me how you love me.”

He grins a wickedly handsome smile, pressing another hard kiss to the soft flesh of your thigh. He bites down gently, teasingly, basking in the sultry moan that rumbles in your chest.

“Gale,” you urge, pleadingly. “Let me see how lost you are. Let me see what I do to you.”

He squeezes the flesh of your opposite thigh, tongue laving over the little indents his teeth left in your skin. His eyes are sharp, heavy with lust, and you think you might drown in their depths forever.

“How desperate you are,” he teases, hands now moving to push the fabric at your hips up higher and higher. You can only sink further into his touch as his intentions become clear.

“You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me,” he muses, eyes locked on your pleading gaze. “I sometimes forget how eager you are to have me. But no matter, my star. I will happily oblige your desire to be tasted.”

You can only gasp, body pliant, mind foggy, already drunk on him as you surrender to the heat of his mouth.

[joannasteez]

"im with you" - installment two

featured characters: mother's milk & female reader. warnings: alcohol usage (misuse) and angst. MM being his supportive, caring self. mutual pining? (kinda) authors note: this second installment has been sitting in my drafts since the release of season three, so over a year maybe? i don't see myself progressing the story (sorry?) but i was tired of seeing this in the drafts. so i give it to you all who wish to read it!

You hate 'The Reserve', not just for its sordid means of molding into fruition false delusions of grandeur, but because it is also a reflection. A mirror, smudged and stained, bitter callousness webbing sharply from the heart of it, mangling its way to the furthest reaches, but a mirror all the same. And when the sun wanes low into the horizon, that bombastic need for liquid comfort livening up the bar, in the solace of yourself you say 'I am not like these people; degenerate drunks and reckless hedonist, bleeding the poison of a heartless raging machine who thinks them too low to even consider their existence. I am not like the super-abled, I am better'. The hatred is beautiful enough in those times, consistent enough that it waters the dust and forms thought into palpable word. Then where is this mantra now? As the weeks grow colder, air nipping sporadic bites into the skin, lethargy soothing something still and lukewarm into your veins.

Grief is loud, 'where is your mantra now?', and your need for comfort is as bombastic as theres.

On this unsteady line of desire, here must be where the attraction falls short for him. Clips its wings, falling from on high.

'He sees you', the brandy says, auburn and taunting. 'He pity's you'.

All those years ago when the ache was new, splitting raw and lethal at your chest, you're almost sure it was pity that drew him in, that made him linger. It had to be, or that's what the sluggish, drunken part of you thinks, the part that takes comfort in dark hard spirits and makes you believe all the untrue shit that stains the foreverness of wayward esteem and memory. But sipping from the bottle is good, it's easy, feeling like a drizzle of fresh rain on the skin. The burn goes dull after while, when the sky bleeds something angry and orange,  leaving just the smooth glide down the path of your throat, and when your eyes shut to escape the welling of tears, you hear that everlasting crunch of metal.

It's a hard piercing, that cringing screech and scratch of metal etching into itself, the friction tearing into flesh and bone, and just mere seconds remain before the face that shares your own fades into something distant and lifeless.

Twins, a true phenomenon, and yet as you stare into the bottle, it all feels false and unnatural, like retribution. Something beautiful and different, worth no more to the state than a cover up story and a check for $75,000.

She was worth more. She deserved more, true justice, and yet here you are wasting away, your stomach a pool of brandy.

Like clockwork your phone vibrates. 'Here comes the pity', you think.

--How you holdin' up?

His wonder is a grey text bubble, nothing more than routine and after several years still its consistent. Maybe that's why desire has etched into your skin so, a slow gradual drag into nerve, entangled to the pulse of your veins, because at least some semblance of him cares. Even if it is all just obligation, when others stopped their award wining performances of sympathy, he'd still roll around in the early cool of October asking 'Are you holding up?', and 'How are you doing?'

The tears and liquor screw your senses well, fingers slipping over some of the right keys and missing others. It takes a while to gather thought, and even then it's driven by lies and poor motor skills.

--Mi fi.

--Im fie.

--Fire*.

--Fuk Im fine*.

--Fuck*.

The disappointment is palpable, heavy on the tongue and an uncomfortable warmth to the skin. You know it, can picture the way those brows of his pull together, mouth screwed and on the verge of disgusted. Well fuck him, if he thinks you care, he isn't the one in pain, drowning in perpetual heartbreak. Saturated to the bone with it really and its ripping at you slow and dreadful, a vicious tear of tissue and vessel. And God-- but...but doesn't he know? No, no, no he has to, he's suffered similar... but it's not the same... but it is, you stress to yourself, it has to be... but it isn't, and the tears taste more salty as they come. An aged bitterness that makes you wince.

--... are you drunk?

You keep him suspended, seconds, minutes even.

--No

--A but,, Im ok.

--A bit but Im ok*.

He's quick to reply.

--Where are you?

He waits, with a staling patience just at the top floor of the flatiron building, where the city bustles and groans, exhausted and restless. In just a few measly minutes, still nerve goes erratic with impatience and then comes the hammering of his pulse.

You're drunk and alone, drowning in the memory of shitty circumstance. His chest aches in that familiarity-- Harlem and a blazing summer sun, the hard blow of barely cool air, a child's excitement and then the coming in of doom, Soldier Boy, and then the swooshing in and fatal crunch of metal-- the ache a vicious sting. Growing nails make slight indents in his skin, fingers coming into his palm, to ball and harden, to feel and never to forget.

He was lonely then, just a wild vengeance to keep him company.

Marvin moves before he can think, leaves, turns the key in his ignition and joins the hard rush of the city before resolution melts loose and hesitant.

Your Brooklyn apartment is old, as old as the house he loved destroyed by the hurling in of a benz, and as he breathes, alleviating the hard brick of tension in his shoulders, he understands why he's here. Why-- in the most inconveniencing of times-- he thinks about you. Why desire, a fervent stream in his blood, has become more ungovernable by the day. You are new but familiar. Soft and alluring but recognizable to the bone, a reflection of pain and survival that wholly scares him and excites him just the same.

When the door opens, it's the petulant embrace that catches him first, the bottle of brandy nestled in your palm, but the smell curls about the air bitter and heavy, unsullied by shame. Even in the most dismal affair, your eyes are blood-shot, daring him to go beyond whatever is shy and lingering, a plead to make the pain go away. To call out the itching twitch in his skin by name and validate its presence.

"What?", you start, feeling his eyes. The stony weight. "You're not gonna wish me happy birthday?"

"You're a mess".

You'd waited for this, hoped for it even, to have the burn and the break of desire collapse against you. For it to scorch flesh and that unrelenting part of the heart that says 'yes, i want him, need him', but it never comes. There is no fracture, even when he tears you open with concerned eyes, just the unreconcilable truth that if you are a mess, royally fucked up and drunk out of your mind, that you do not want to be. Not when or where he can see. Because there is no middle, no point at which allure and brokenness meet in a charming enough compromise... right? So this must be judgement then, 'you're a mess', the knocking in of the gavel.

The quiver to your lip is fragile. You are fragile. "If you're here to judge, you can fuck off".

The lone tear you give makes his heart squeeze. Maybe he shouldn't have led so strong, so exacting.  

He brushes in anyways, like a piece of him belongs here and steals the bottle from your fingers. Palms growing idle now, fearful, balling and releasing, grasping at air --like your whole being-- grasping at everything, anything and gaining nothing. Nothing but the soreness of muscle once bent about glass fighting for strength, for the will to straighten. All there is, is the leaning in of silence, as he cracks the windows for a fresh breeze, a hard press that leaves you scorching and loose with a raw bare boned awareness. The mantle of your belly churning and awakened with a sullen impatience to hear his words, the charge of his thoughts.

Wont he do it now?

"Just say it already", knotting pain in your throat leaving your urgency dry. Brittle. "Whatever straight laced bullshit speech you got about effective coping, and-and-and pain... and whatever the fuck".  The new air is chilling, makes the grate of your voice wane and shiver. "Just say it".

He's next to you, sinking into the couch, and it's the closest he's ever been. "What's the point of preachin' shit you don't practice".

"Drinking isn't effective coping but tearing through the city, through the damn country, offing supes left and right with Butcher is?"

You were both wrong, but so terribly right. The through-line of your lives, just narrowly escaping death, broken already but always seeming still to be on the precipice of breaking.

For some time there's nothing, no word or deed, and then, there's everything. A delirious unearthing, barbarous and desperate. 'Look at me, understand me, please', fragile, on the borders of begging. "I never meant to drink so much, it-it just happened I-", your tongue goes lax and dry from temporary thoughtlessness or the swimming and draining of liquor in your veins, you aren't sure. "I don't even like the taste but June she... she made it a thing. Our thing".

You look to him, and see through the blur of your vision, the forming together of intent and attention. No crease of pity, just tenderness and patience, without blame. Just understanding.

And then it's here, nostalgia, a wistful coming together again of memory. "My father liked to have his taste every now and then y'know... a little sip just to feel some shit I guess", you start. A finger pulling at and curling into another. "So he'd hide little bottles of brandy around the house. A stash here, stash there, but he'd always end up forgetting. He had shitty memory that way... still does", the knot in your throat grew, forming a choking sensation. "But June would find them  and re-stash them, so when our birthday came around we'd sip and get shitfaced together".

You can feel the build, a hard rushing in, the levee soon to break. "We both hated the taste, but we were doing stupid shit together and thats all that mattered".

She comes clearly in your minds eye, a replica yet different. Glassy eyes dazzled by the soft burning away of innocence. The liquor is strong on her tongue, makes her touch something tight to the skin, a holding on to that bites but comforts all the same, and the air is pungent. Rife with rebellion. In the shared bedroom of an old family owned Brooklyn Brownstone, the world opens, teems founded and un-conforming with the blazing of this single moment. Oh sister, my sister. She was your mirror, your opposite. Everything. "She was just here my whole life and now she's gone. What thing am I supposed to have that I can touch, that-that-that I can feel other than this, other than our thing".

Something in Marvin wonders, if he reaches out, forms you with his hands, will you take him in or stretch away? Will you break? Shatter into a fragmented loathing because he is not her. And there is the curt twitching in his finger, he feigns for the answer.

"You never told me that".

You laugh, mirthless and ironic. "I never told anybody because I feel like a fucking joke. I speech those kids to death almost every damn day, about being present and making room, growing in grief and look at me." Your head feels full and heavy, a sharp pounding meeting just at the forefront of your skull. "I didn't even have the fight to do anything about it. They took her away from me and I just let that shit fade. I let her go Marvin, me".

He pulls at your chin softly to face him, smearing away a lonely rolling tear. From here, just inches away, everything about him is tender and warm. But if you lean further into him, will he pull you in?, or will the comfort of his touch fall away?

It travels instead, holding firm at your shoulders. His eyes settling light and easy.

"You wanna go all Rambo with the shit, and find out what happened, I'm with you 100%, but what happened to June isn't on you, its not".

The brandy on your tongue wears old, the solace of it going stale.

'I'm with you'

His embrace is a furnace, a delicate purging. A new opening of the world.

"Thank you Marvin".

[chryseis-lxve]

🍸 NEW YEAR GREETINGS

💬 if i'm being honest, this year has been a wild fucking ride, lol but all of you little pies have been a huge help by simply popping up now and then and being a little ray of sunshine, or by having stuck around for a long time. i genuinely appreciate all of you, and wish you all a lovely year ahead! also, please note that the order of names doesn't matter here XD

@floraldresvi i sincerely appreciate you a lot. when you mentioned that you were grateful i stumbled upon that writing blog of yours, i wanted to mention that such was the play of fate but ig it's too obvious to be worthy of mention. i still hope you write sometimes on that blog, but i can understand why you don't. you always tag me in the loveliest stuff and ask me the most intriguing questions, but sometimes my responses get so long that i forget about it after saving them in my drafts so i hope you know that's not me ignoring you! 😭 i wish to express that both your words and actions are extremely touching and i'm always grateful you entered my life. you're like a ray of soft sunshine, yk? the kind that comforts you and heals you, and i'm always so happy to be around you. your presence itself is a harbinger of joy. after a long and tumultuous year, i just want to remind you that you're also worthy of love and care and affection. please don't forget that.

@rightfate-posts shiro, my lovely!! your words are srsly the most impactful ones. i still remember that day i was feeling depressed as hell, but the words you sent me where like an angel showing light to me who had forgot what it felt like. it was like being reintroduced to love and appreciation, yk? and it isn't just about that specific time either, it's always. your words always have an impact on me, and i often think about you, your health, your likes and dislikes, what you'd appreciate, what you'd love. it's like a spiraling loop, but i'm glad to be stuck. your boundless optimism is contagious, and the way you express yourself and look out for others is heart warming. in a way, you're like a worried friend whose always smothering others with care in spite of their own struggles. i just want you to look after yourself this year, and i wish utmost happiness and joy to you!

@meimeimeirin mei!! our fellow granny 🤝😂 no, but i have stated this many times, and i will state it once again- your sense of responsibility, your optimism, your upright nature and your mindset are all genuinely inspiring. sometimes when i'm sulking i just scroll through your blog for the positivity XD the way you interact with others is proof of your radiance. i just think you deserve the whole world. you're the first friend i made here, and even though we don't interact as much anymore, our convos and laughs remain fresh in my mind. you're of those people you can't get enough of, yk? the best part is that you're a good influence XD i just hope we remain together as friends for a long time!!

@beloved-brynn what should i say about you, you little meme lord. words fail me with the kind of joy i feel when it comes to you. i just don't know what exactly it is about you that makes you so attractive but i've genuinely always thought of you as this shiny little pokémon who didn't know how to perceive itself because it didn't have other shiny little things around itself. i know you're not the best with sappy stuff, but let me be rn, i'm getting emotional 😭😂 on the lighter side, you're a little bundle of joy wrapped up in jokes yk? literally my favourite combo. when you describe the things you like i want to sit down and listen to you forever, because your passions seem to all stem from genuine love and interest. you're one of those people who don't pull too much sarcasm, so you can just be honest and open with them. i trust you a lot, and i srsly love you. like love love you. the reason i emphasize it is because we don't really talk too much emotion, but i just want to let you know because i have the chance to yap rn. i love you a lot, and your works are awesome.

@circeappxteer rhea!! it's always so lovely to speak with you, i can't even describe it. your words are always so laced with care and empathy that i can feel it even when they are just words on a screen yk? i really appreciate you reaching out to me, speaking with me and stuff because ngl i'm not very good with checking up on people and going out of my way to speak with them so i genuinely appreciate you a lot 😭❤ you're a very kind person! unfortunately, we haven't had many opportunities to interact this year, but hopefully the coming year will be kinder to us in terms of free time and opportunities! here's to an year of happiness and lasting memories 🥂

@naraven ven, you're like. CRAZY TALENTED, i hope you know that!! your works, compositions they are all so awesome i just don't even know in what words describe my adoration. i used to learn music when i was younger, a sitar and i always loved it. unfortunately, i couldn't connect with it the way i connected with art but it continued to fascinate me, regardless. in a way, the lack of connection was actually a lack of ability to express myself in notes, strings, tunes and melodies but you can, and i'll never have anything less than pure admiration for you. aside from that, you're an AWESOME person literally 10/10 you're so cute i just want to squish your cheeks XD we didn't have many personal interactions or deeper convos, but i look forward to new moments spent together! let's hope the next year will bring more with itself :D

@cherieiu you cutie pie xue XD if there's any complaint i have against you, then it's that you're always busy so we can rarely interact D: BUT!! i appreciate and respect your sense of discipline a lot! be focused on your studies, it is greatly rewarding! you always get back to me though so i love that XD and you're SO polite and well mannered it's so cute!! regardless, i wish utmost success to you for this coming year! do well in your studies, and go far in life ✨

@pranabefall anya, to me you're like the mutual XD i always think we just get each other, yk? maybe it's because we have very similar backgrounds, but regardless of that i appreciate the connection we have! i always feel like i could say the craziest stuff and you would still get me XD but you also remain dignified, so i appreciate that very much, too! you're a very hard working person, so it's always lovely to see you having fun and letting loose. we haven't interacted a lot, but let's hope it's better in the following year! do take care, though! this year wasn't the most stable, so please look after yourself <3

@euniveve eun, i got to know you only this year, but to say that you're the most intriguing person regardless would be an understatement for the kind of curiosity i hold for you. the way you manage to hold on in spite of all difficulties, the way you outshine struggles, the way you make even the harder things appear simple is simply awe-inspiring to me. your sense of responsibility and the way you carry yourself is genuinely amazing. you're srsly like an elder sister figure to me, and i admire you a lot. above everything else, i relate to you on a lot of aspects and in our thoughts towards various things as well. i really enjoyed the convo we had about ghosts and stuff, so i hope we get more chances like that one! regardless, i hope the next year brings relief from so many responsibilities, or at least gives you the strength to bear them. my best wishes are always with you!

@mochinon-yah YOU!

jokes aside, you're a cutie pie!! literally my baby istg, i read your message on my christmas tree and i wanted to hug you so hard!! i appreciate you in ways i can't describe, mochi. when i said i see you as a younger sister, i was being SO fr i can't even describe it. really. i just want you to be happy and flourish like you deserve! if you ever need advices, any help, any info, know that i'm out there, ready and willing to help to the best of my abilities! and ofc, over everything else, you have my best wishes <3 i hope success, joy and love become your closest companions!

@shinchansbitch you're such a boundless bundle of energy i don't even know how to describe it XD when you express deeper feelings, which is again pretty rare but always welcomed, i always wanna listen to you, understand what you mean and express my own ideas as well. we haven't had a lot of chances to interact previous year, but i hope it gets better in this one. you're literally one of the funniest people i've ever seen! your ability to be authentic, and the small windows of genuinity and vulnerability are cherished memories in my heart. i've been busy so i couldn't interact much with you, but i always end up laughing whenever you pop up on my dash with another of your out of pocket posts. srsly, love you sweetie pie <3

@teabutmakeitazure // @haven-avalon // @harmonysanreads // @stickyspeckledlight all of you are literally amazing people! we don't really talk much on tumblr, but you guys' interactions on the server never fail to make me laugh or catch my attention. hopefully, we have more chances at closer interactions this year! but really, all of you are genuinely nice and kind people, too.

@kazuinvocation os, although we met at a very busy time, and for a very work-kind of purpose, i still appreciate you a lot. i srsly loved your message on my christmas tree. yk, i'm just glad to make others happy so i just felt really happy when you said that. i'm glad to have you in the team, especially because you're also particularly responsible. thank you os, for all the things you do behind the curtain. they're all noticed, and lovingly appreciated!

@pneumosia welcome back yona! we didn't interact at all the last time we were mutuals lol so i don't have much to say, except, let's hope we have more chances this year to come together and interact. i hope you've been doing well, and that the coming year will bring joy and success to you in your endeavours! don;t get too distracted, and focus on your studies. you're running various servers so it makes me concerned sometimes, make sure to study properly. i wish you success!

to all of you: a very happy new year! regardless of how much we have interacted, let's hope the next year brings joy, success and lovely memories for all of us. may the wheel of time bestow joy upon all of us! let's remain together and have many more moments of happiness together!

[obsessive-ego]

Slumber party panic

Reader x musical Beetlejuice

Nsft

Reader has a vagina

Fic where a bunch of teens summon beetlejuice moments before the two of you are intimate

This has been in my drafts forever

...

It's been a long hard week, coworkers have been calling in sick back to back to back, leaving you to cover, so that ment longer shifts, and rougher days but such was retail, you tried not to let it get to you, and kept telling yourself the you'll treat yourself on payday.

Mentally you were fine, but it DID take a toll on you physically, you'd stumble home after a nine hour shift, being the only competent employee on that day, drop your bag, sit on the couch and just stare into space exhausted, leaving your coat on, for about an hour before you'd force yourself up and put something together to eat, at least that was how you'd spend time after work on the days you were alone.

On days beetlejuice 'graced you with his presence', the moment you stumble exhausted into your home the ghoul was already on you, with a summoned clone or two to help take away your coat and bag, and eagerly bringing you to the kitchen where a hot and ready meal was waiting for you, it was so sweet, and honestly the first time he did this for you, you cried, for a demon he was such a sweet boyfriend.

Which brings us to today, another week in the books, you had the next day off and were really looking forward to resting

"Ya know babes, it's been awhile since we made the sheets sing" beetlejuice pulled into his side as the two of you sat together on the couch ignoring the gameshow that had been providing background noise

"I know" you yawn

"So how bout I remind ya why you're with me to begin with?" He snorts out a laugh, pink hues beginning to pop in his hair

You chuckle "I'm not just dating you for your dick beej-"

"I know toots, you're hear for my rear too♡" he pushes nuzzling into you neck, a hand moving to your upper thigh, you give a soft laugh feeling the bubble of excitement begin to start up, but then you yawn again

"Am I boring you?" Beetlejuice chuckles, knowing damn well the week you've just survived

"Sorry Bee-" you start

"Forgetta bout it, why don't you let ol' mister beebleboose do all the work tonight? You deserve a treat for being such a big strong working breather, and come on babes, I gotta fulfill my end of the bargain, since I'm your trophy husband♡"

You give the ghoul a playful push, moving him off you "we're not married beej-"

Beetlejuice crawls up onto your lap, trapping you between him and the couch "not yet♡"

The idea of getting married to beetlejuice always gave you butterflies, you knew the drill with him, the dead marrying the living gave them another, or in Beetlejuice's case, his first shot at life.

"Well?" The demon snaps you out of your thoughts

"Well what?"

"Do you wanna be my pillow princess tonight?♡" he snickered knowing how you weren't too keen on the nickname

"I don't know beej, being called 'princess' isn't really a turn on-"

"Alright my pillow prince♡" he coos, pinching your cheek

You swat his hand away "I do miss being intimate with you-"

"Then its settled!" Beetlejuice scoops you up, his hair now magneta, buzzing with excitement "call me old fashioned toots, but as much as I love railing ya on the couch, I'd rather tonight we take it to the boudoir♡" The ghoul quickly carried you over his shoulder to your room, making sure to give your bum a pinch before dropping you on the bed.

"God slash satan I've been waiting all week for this" beetlejuice purrs, crawling up on the bed and leaning over you, his magenta hair buzzing and giving the room a romantic glow

"Me too" you sigh leaning up giving the demon a soft kiss, it's been a rough week, and to be honest you've been feeling guilty saying no to him every night, you wanted to as well, you just wanted sleep more.

Beetlejuice pushes you back down on the bed, breaking the kiss, not like him, normally you'd have to remind him you need air to live, but whatever

"You're wearing too much clothes, here, allow me♡" he chuckles before snapping his fingers, your clothes vanishing in thin air, aside from a simple pair of black panties.

The ghoul leans back taking a good look at your mostly naked form, even though he's seen you like this so many times, his lecherous stare always made you a tad shy.

"It's been too long" he groans loosing his tie

"It's only been a week" you try to sit up only to have the ghoul push you back down

"Time works different when you're dead, now close your eyes and give daddy some sugar" beetlejuice purrs leaning forward, his long striped tongue leading the way

You do as instructed, having no desire to be what some would call a brat, you close your eyes and lightly part your lips ready to start a much desired night of passion.

You waited for a second or two, yet nothing, you knew beetlejuice as an inpatient guy, especially when it came to being intimate, so you peak.

He was gone

"Beetlejuice?"

Nothing

"Beetlejuice?"

Still nothing

"Beetle-?" You stop half way, knowing he'd normally stop you before you got all three B words out, but he didn't come

Oh, he was messing with you

"Okay" you start breaking the B word chain, then it hits you, maybe he's gonna try that thing the two of you were talking about, awhile ago you mentioned to beetlejuice you thought the idea of being 'railed' or 'taken advantage of' by an invisible entity is incredibly hot and if he was up to it, you'd very much like to try it with him, and by God, the demon was foaming at the mouth, and practically vibrating with excitement when you asked him that.

As that thought crossed your mind you eagerly lay back down against the pillows, sliding your panties downs leaving them hanging on your ankle, and spreading your legs. You lay there beaming with excitement waiting for the shoe to drop, but as 5 minutes pass your feelings fade to disappointment

Maybe this is beej's way if telling you he didn't really want to have sex with you tonight, maybe when he asked you earlier he was hoping you'd turn him down again, your heart squeezed at the thought and the humiliation you put yourself through, laying there like an idiot, was he getting back at you for turning him down ever night this week?

"If you didn't want to have sex you should have said something you ass" you cry getting off the bed and beginning to find something more comfortable and cozy to go to sleep in.

"You can forget sharing the bed tonight too" You couldnt help but tear up, he made you look like a fool, waiting for him laying there naked for almost an hour, he's probably in this room laughing at you, enjoying his shitty revenge game.

You plug your phone in and crawl under the covers of your bed, already warm from you laying there like a dumbass, you wanted to cry until you couldnt breath, this had to be the meanest thing ANYONE, let alone your partner, have ever done to you, just as you turn over ready to cry yourself to sleep, your phone rings.

You grab your phone off the night stand, wipe your eyes and awnser a shaky "hello?" Assuming it was a coworker calling last minute to ruin your day off tomorrow.

"Hey, babes? Call me back asap!"

"Beetlejuice?" What did he mean call him back? Wasn't he here?

"Two more doll, hurry up!"

He sounded alittle upset

"Where are you?"

He groans "just call me back and I'll explain" you could hear young girls crying in the background "I'll just be a minute" he shouts away from the phone, but still is herd by you

"Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice" you get it over with tired of this back and forth, you hear the clunk of the phone he was holding hit the floor then the disconnect tone.

In a puff of green smoke he was back, the magneta in his hair now gone, replaced with an awful mix of purple and red, the pink that graced his suit moments before his disappearance? Now the same awful mix as his hair, though the colours quickly fade back to pink when he sees you

"BABES!" He lunges at you, the bed creaks when he makes contact with the mattress, the demon was quick to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle in, to which you push away

"What happened?" Your voice was stern and demanding, you wanted answers and wanted them now.

"Aw babes" beetlejuice starts rubbing the back of his neck "it was rough, apparently some kids at Lydia's school herd her summon me, so they did it too, ya know, a bloody Mary party game situation"

He was pulled away, he was pulled away against his will, he didn't snub you, god this made your gut turn, you were upset for nothing.

"Thank whoever I was still fully clothed when it happened huh babes?" The ghoul gives you a nudge "let me set the scene for ya toots" Beetlejuice crawls up against the headboard with you, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you in

...

"Give daddy some sugar♡" was the last thing he said to you before being pulled from your bed.

Lips still puckered leaning forward, an unfamiliar scream breaks the mood

Opening his eyes, before him sat 3 teenage girls

The room was dimly light by a hand full of led candles

It took the ghoul merely a moment to adjust to the situation, adjusting his tie, and smoothing his hair back, no longer magneta, but now red, these little brats ruining the night he's been craving all week.

"I cant believe it worked"

"A real live ghost"

"This is so cool"

"What have we done?! He's totally gonna kill us"

The chatter amongst themselves as of this was all a silly game

Beetlejuice clears his throat to stop noise and gain the kids attention

"Alright-" he starts

"Okay mister ghost, we summoned you so you have to do as we say, just like you did for that creepy lydia girl" what beetlejuice could only assume was the ringleader in this pack of teens, stood up straight poking him in the chest, the ghoul cringes at the mention of Lydia, guess Babs was right, maybe the two of em should be more careful in public spaces, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna to spread it around he got caught and summoned. Beetlejuice pushes the thought of a lecture out of his mind, he had bigger fish to fry, meaning to get home and rail you, you must be worried sick, you poor vagina drying up in his absence.

"First off we want you to-" the kid's voice snapped him from his musing back to the current problem

"Alright kid, I'm gonna stop ya right there, this isn't a 3 wishes genie situation, I'm a demon, ya know, from hell, and you 3 pulled me away from some serious demon business, I should eat the lot of you for it"

As Beetlejuice ranted his form changed, becoming more monstrous, his teeth shapper, his claws more prominent, his eyes more snake like, all around more intimidating.

The teens huddle together in fear pleading for their safety and passing around the blame of who's idea to summon him was.

"But I won't" at those words the demon features fade and he returns to his default look, although still red "if you kids do something for me"

At this point the girls were sobbing, noses running, babbling unintelligible sounds, and clinging together for dear life

"Can I use your phone?"

...

"Wow" was all you could say

"I know, I know, I've been through alot tonight, I could really use some comfort, so how bout we~" he leans into you nuzzling his beard into you neck, you gasp at the sensation, feeling his tongue lick the stripe up your neck.

"Oh Bj♡" You let out a soft moan

"I know toots♡" he groans guiding you back to laying beneath him "now where were we?♡"

...

.....

Bonus

Lydia: hey so that girl who's been being mean to me hasn't done anything to me in awhile

Beej: ....haha weird....

Y/n: ...yeah weird

[bee-the-loser]

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₊ ⊹☼ Pairing: The8/Xu Minghao x reader ₊ ⊹☼ Synopsis: Multiple chance encounters across lives, with a soul somehow fated to yours throughout ₊ ⊹☼ Genre: Reincarnation au, slight fantasy/historic au ₊ ⊹☼ Word count: 1.67k ₊ ⊹☼ Warnings: Mentions of death, loss and grief. Minor character death mentions ₊ ⊹☼ A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while as I didn't feel that the story was done yet. However, it's at a good point right now to post. Maybe I'll return to add to it further at one point though.

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Loss is an emptiness that eats away at the soul, a metaphorical knife carving it’s design on the surface but leaving behind wounds deep enough to bleed. And the strange thing about loss is you let it. In a sense it’s a sickly beautiful thing to experience as the blood pours out staining over the pure memories and taints them to be forever red. A crimson red that’s the same as the heart that somehow still beats inside your chest, because while it feels like everything should be still, time moves on. Time still encourages hearts to beat and wounds to bleed.

And bleed they do…

Your first loss shouldn’t be considered that actually. There are so many factors that completely contradict it as “the first loss you experienced”. For a start, you had lost people before. A woman who never had the chance to be a mother, your mother, passing away before she got even a second with her child. A young boy, who once you considered a brother, starved under the night sky with his eyes locked onto the moon. After all, Grief was no stranger to your soul. He visited often and settled in your bones like a heavy sick reminder of life.

No, none of these was your first loss. A kind of deep grief, yes, but they felt inevitable somehow.

Your first loss came in a form you never expected. A loss of opportunity and the questions of what could have been. Leaving the first scar of many dotted over your skin.

You didn’t know his name the first time, you barely got to know him at all actually. It was a fleeting moment that stopped the world if just for a second. Even if it was just for you.

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The makeshift grave you created when Chan died was positioned out in a forest glade on the edge of town, giving him the privacy and peace he deserved. An ideal place for him to continue watching the night sky like he did when he was tangible, and now as a star, a place for him to look down on from above. It seems childish now thinking that was how the world worked, that he would stick around for you.

You know better now.

You had been spending the afternoon visiting him, after collecting flowers for your little stall, coming to rest up in the willow tree sheltering the glade from the outside view. The branches allowing you a raised position to look down below, which is how you spotted him initially. This dark haired beauty dressed in clothes that didn’t seem typical for that of normal adventurers. You assumed that’s what he must be, no one else tends to come out that far. Somehow, he had stumbled onto Chan’s clearing though, only the fates may know how, and came to a pause in front of the poorly carved headstone you placed on the first death anniversary. It didn’t matter that there was no body to bury, his memory would live on.

Something about that resonated in this figure’s mind. It wasn’t obvious at first but moments later when you got the first glimpse at his soul-bearing eyes and the way they scanned the words told you all you needed. He was memorising the words, breathing out his very essence into the world and immortalising this time. The phrase you had heard many times before bringing tears to your eyes as it was spoken out loud after a year again.

“The moon sure is lonely tonight”. He was just reading out loud that time, but maybe that’s why it left such an impact. There were no deeper connotations or commitments that suffocated the moment. It was raw and real.

If given the chance of every lifetime, you would chose to return to this moment eternally.

He left not long after that with a new print on his soul in the name of Lee Chan and the fleeting thoughts of a phrase once whispered. It wasn’t until afterwards that you saw the carefully placed bundle of forget-me-nots. Flowers that symbolise memorises and the concept of thinking of loved one ones while one is away. You don’t remember ever have crying as hard as you did that night as you allowed yourself to break down after having repressed everything for a long time. The hope that someone else would continue to think of the young boy and maybe one day return providing a sort of comfort you never realised you needed.

You continued with your routines and visits but never once saw the stranger again. Your first loss came unexpectedly and you couldn’t help but think of what could have happened if things were different. Had Chan been alive to greet him? Had you spoken out to him? Had you got to know him? But you didn’t and so the opportunity passed by and life continued until death came to claim you too.

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What you didn’t expect was the life that came after and the memories that flickered back to you slowly. You could remember it all clearly at first but the more time progressed and lives were lived, the hazier things became. So you wrote to remember. Diary entries inked across pages depicting and detailing each moment and connection you continued to share.

It took you a total of three lives to realise you and your stranger were somehow connected. You seemed destined to spot him under the moonlight over and over again, each time bringing something new for you to note.

However, it was your fourth life that something truly changed, with an opportunity for the two of you to introduce yourselves. A night-time balcony overlooking the palace gardens providing a shared relief from the noise of the party inside. You had yet to see your stranger that lifetime and you certainly weren’t expecting to find him approaching you from behind on his own escape from the ballroom.

Your eyes had found comfort in the solitude of the starlit sky, with a faint recollection of a young voice discussing constellations in great enthusiasm. Your body curled up onto the stone edge with the coldness contrasting to the heat radiating from the party inside. There had been no mention of the balcony being off limits but it seemed abandoned in that moment similar to how you felt. Maybe that is why when you heard the small thuds of footsteps approaching you assumed it was a guard coming to bring you inside. However, as you turned around to face them, your breath stalled inside your throat.

There he was…

Face to face, the moments that followed allowed you both to subtly scan each other’s figures, sharing a second of joint solitude. His clothes reflecting his obviously high social status, yet you naturally found yourself focusing on his deep, knowledgeable eyes. The ones that both equally haunted and comforted your thoughts. Then he spoke and his light voice rung out in a whisper like he was afraid to break the silence.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you, but I needed some time away from the chaos and couldn’t help but notice you out here alone with only the moon for company. You both seemed rather lonely tonight. Would you mind me joining you?”

The paraphrasing of the familiar line rang in your ears as you couldn’t help but tear up and turn back to the full moon in an attempt for comfort.

“Not at all, feel free to join us.”

His figure stepping closer as he approached the balcony edge himself and admired the view before the two of you. It was a comfortable silence that followed, neither of you feeling the need to fill it with meaningless chatter at first. However, as you turned to gain another glance at him, wanting to capture every detail for your writing later on, your gaze fell onto the baby blue flowers that lay in his pocket.

“Forget-me-nots?”

As he turned to meet your eyes, he saw the way they lingered onto his flowers and then noticed the similar ones decorated into your own outfit.

“Hmm, there is something special about the resilience of these little blossoms which bloom in clusters throughout marshy harsh terrain. In a sense I admire the way they manage to preserve and grow with those tough conditions. It’s something I often see reflected in humanity, although, unlike the flowers, not often do people manage to make it full bloom I find.”

The philosophical answer was not one you had expected from him, but certainly wasn’t unwelcome. You had your own greater meanings to the flowers that you shared back with careful consideration, still unsure of if your stranger retained his memories like you. It was something you noted in a previous life where you tried to speak to a different Chan and was left alone once more, that not everyone had the privilege, or was it a curse, to remember like you do.

“For me, they symbolise remembering those who once were but no longer are. A promise to keep the memories of them alive for as long as you live. The stories you experienced and the thoughts you shared allowing a part of them to stay.”

Silence settled back down between the two of you, which is why you could hear the song that started to play out by the band. A slow dance of sorts. In some twist of destiny, he reached his hand out and asked for your hand before the two of you spent time twirling across the balcony. This moment shared only by you two and the sky.

As you came to a close and the clocks chimed to signal an hour passing, with you settled in your stranger’s arms, two names were breathed out into the universe before you parted ways and he disappeared back into the ball.

“Xu Minghao.”

A name meaning brightness and vastness, one that seemed to fit the person you came to spend time with perfectly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[blakbonnet]

AUTHOR OF THE WEEK: @saltpepperbeard

The second featured author of this week is the lovely, loquacious, and truly the best bestie anyone could have: Jodi ♥️ I don't know how she does it but Jodi's fics are fast becoming my most comfortable corner of ao3 to be in because she just has such a way with words, and I do think we should all let her write s3 😌 I also annoyed her into answering some questions for me and sharing her writing process:

What's your writing process like? Do you start with the beginning or the end? Do you write in order or as the scenes come to you?

So I *used* to write sequentially, ie from beginning to end, but the process has gotten more and more chaotic over the years—unhinged, one might say lol! Now, I typically start things off by drafting sections of a story, which ends up being a lot of dialogue more often than not. Like, there are *definitely* some wips in my drafts right now that are almost 100% Stede and Ed talking and nothing else lol (which I mean...staying true to their characters there if you ask me)! Then, if a bit of good description comes to me, I'll pencil that somewhere into the draft, too. And only *then* lol, if things are feeling right and the motivation is feeling high, will I actually attempt to write in sequential order—essentially just playing "fill in the blanks" and writing towards things I've drafted to mix everything all together!

...But sometimes my brain does still fast-forward and write future sections if the good ol' "shower/going to bed daydreams" strike. So it really just depends lol!

My 2014 writing brain, in Ed's voice: You are improving though! Kinda.

Favourite trope or headcanon you like to explore while writing?

...Squints at my tags on AO3 lol. If you see that almost *all* of my stories are hurt/comfort, no you don't <3. I just absolutely adore taking all the hurt Ed and Stede have gone through and soothing it with cuddles, kisses, and soft reassurances. Because man, *man,* have they both been through a lot. It's like Pandora's Box lol; once you start digging into the true depths of their hurt, you just end up with more and more and MORE. There's just so much that they both need and *deserve* to talk through as a crew—or talk through as a "two," as some have said lol, so I adore exploring that. I adore allowing them to have that space and that safety. *Particularly* with Ed getting to unpack things he faced in the earlier parts of Season 2, and with Stede getting to unpack...*anything.*

Also, because I write entirely in-universe, I'm a big fan of implementing some of the common, lovely headcanons. Ie, the crew coming to visit, the two of them maintaining a garden, the British never finding them, etc etc. I know not all of my published works reflect those, but a lot of my drafts do, promise lol!

Whose voice is easier to write - Ed or Stede? Why?

I *still* feel like I'm trying to nail down that ✨ kiwi cadence,✨ not going to lie lol! But, in sitting with this question and sort of going back and forth on it for a while, I think I'm ultimately going to have to land on Stede in most instances. Maybe because I'm one of the ✨ Stede-coded Girlies (gn)✨ , or maybe because I adore Ed so much and subsequently find it easier to gush over him narratively lol! But yeah.

Strangely enough though, I will say I find it easier to write Ed's voice when he's dealing with hurt, vs writing Stede's voice when he's dealing with hurt. I think that's because Ed is more open with his pain, and deals with it in more candid ways, whereas Stede likes to bottle things up and hide. So, it's subsequently harder to crack him open and let out everything that has backed up.

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

-Ed voice- Oooowaaaagggh.

Is coming to the table with two stories cheating? Because, I have two lol! I'm very proud of Scrumptious, and also Lovers of Beauty. The former because it was an idea that had been sitting in my head *forever* and I'm so happy it finally got realized, and the latter because it was my first go at writing other characters as well as an exploration of a very particular vein of Ed's hurt. Can't go wrong with Horny Stede and Ed in a dress either, I'd say lol!

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

Lmao: INTERTWINED. I feel like it's shown up in almost every single story I've written post-season 2, if not *every* single story. I'm just a big fan of throwing their canon quotes in my narration, with the "breathing the same air" and "love letter" speeches getting the most mileage. OH and also Stede's mermaid speech, too; "I'm here. I'm here. You're safe" assuredly gets thrown into the mix as well lol.

Also uhhhh, on a sillier note, I'd definitely say that the good' ol "fuck" gets a lot of usage lol! Ed and I 🤝 enhancing many a sentence with it.

Do you have a beta reader? Have they made you a better writer?

I do not! We die like the Badmintons.

I instead rely on myself for the long and tedious part of my process I call "combing." Ie, going over my last draft with a fine tooth comb to catch typos or any other silliness to the best of my ability.

Would I benefit from a beta reader? Probably, yes. Would I spook from having a beta reader? Probably, yes PFFF. So, combing it is!

Why OFMD 🥹

God, this show. GOD, this show. I just take such a deep and personal comfort in it for so many reasons. I think the two things that snagged me initially were: getting to see queer people just *being,* and getting to see *older* people finding love. The way that this show portrays us in such a natural, lovely light is so, so refreshing. It's like how Taika has often talked about it; there's no triumphant "coming out" type moment, there's no sensationalizing anything, and there's no spotlight on the queerness. It just...*is.* Everyone just loves whoever the hell they want, and there's no questioning or even discussing the implications of that. And I adore that. I adore the *freedom* of that. It just makes the show feel all the more personable and cozier, too.

Also, man, to see older queer people finding love...I'm going to be vulnerable on main here; I don't have a lot of relationship experience, and I'm nearing my 30's. Western Society/Culture puts this *huge* pressure on people to find the love of their life and have it all figured out by their low/mid 20's, so not fitting that norm has been quite the gut stab for me. And yes yes, I know, it's all entirely fabricated and no one has the same timeline, but it still aches to see, particularly when a lot of media portrays love within that age group, if not *younger.*

So, to see these two men nearing *50* finally finding each other after a life of emptiness and pain? To see them finally finding the person who understands them better than anyone else? And to subsequently get the comfort that somewhere, sometime, you'll cross paths with someone who just *gets* you? Ooooagh.

I think that plays into another part of the show that I adore, too. Ie, the theme that "things are going to be okay." That, no matter how dark and dreary things may seem in the moment, you could still have your mermaid moment, and subsequently end up in a cozy little inn with the love of your life. That there's so much kindness and hope and *love* awaiting you.

It's just so comforting on so many levels and I adore it with all my heart. It's a shame that CERTAIN execs and people equivalent will never be able to understand the depth and the importance; they're entirely, truly missing out.

Please head over to @ofmdlovelyletters (who also made the header) and send your love to all your favourite authors (and authors of the week 😈 watch that blog for some special letters coming your way)

[everybodyshusband]

i can't remember which bits i've shared and which bits i haven't shared of this fic buuuuut i feel bad about the fact that it's almost been eight months since i posted the first chapter of the dysphoric, transmasc rain/swiss fic so here, have a little snippet of chapter two that's been sitting in my drafts for what feels like forever :'D

cw for one line that could be interpreted as suicidal thoughts

"You don’t have to tell me anything.” The multi ghoul's voice held so much softness and affection that Rain couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. “But…” Shit. “If one of the reasons you feel so bad is because of something that happened earlier, then I need to know, baby. So, c’mon, talk to me?”

Rain shook his head, refusing to meet Swiss’s eyes.

“I can do yes and no questions for you, if that helps? But like I said, Rainy, I need to know.”

“...Fine.” Rain refused to admit—even to himself—just how difficult he found it to force that one simple word out.

“Thank you, baby,” Swiss smiled. “Was it something I did that made you feel uncomfortable?”

Rain shook his head, staring unblinkingly at his knees.

“Something I said?”

Rain hummed the affirmative and nodded slowly.

Swiss paused for a moment, considering. “Alrighty, I’m gonna need yah to speak for this one, okay? Just a few words, baby. D’you think you can manage that for me?” He waited for Rain to nod his assent—albeit very, very hesitantly—before continuing on. “Which words made you feel the most uncomfortable, Rain?”

He paused at this, chewing on his bottom lip and glancing up at Swiss as he considered how to answer the multi’s question properly; in a way that wouldn’t permanently alter Swiss’s entire perception of him, or that would let Swiss still believe that all was right in the world, and his partner wasn’t some freak of nature created—disfigured—by a botched summoning. Saying: “when you called me ‘good girl’ it made me want to tear my skin off, request that Dewdrop to burn me into ash, and find some poor, unknowing soul to throw my charred remains into the ninth circle to suffer as I deserve” was definitely true for the most part, but Swiss already seemed worried enough as it was; he didn’t deserve to be any more worried than he had to be. Rain had to be careful about this. “I didn’t like the– The good– The good– The–” His breath hitched in a sob. He couldn’t even say it out loud. Sathanas.

“Rain, baby, take your time. There’s no rush, yeah? This conversation doesn’t have a time limit we need to stick to."

Rain wanted to open his mouth and scream at Swiss that there was; there was a time limit. Mountain could be back at any second, and if he saw Swiss conversing with Rain, even if it was clear Swiss was trying to reassure the water ghoul, Mountain would likely tell Swiss to fuck off and come back another time, or not at all. The earth ghoul always means well, but Rain has found he can be a little… overbearing at times—although, honestly, Rain wouldn’t mind Mountain coming in right now and forcing Swiss out; at least it would mean avoiding this conversation for a while longer.

[hoshiina]

im just here to share my thoughts (im just mr yapper atp)...... not a request ...just me rambling about these two (get them out of my head) (please dont) (actually let them stay longer)

something i find rather cute from both soshiro and hyoga is the fact that both of them are pretty much touch starved but they wouldn't realize it until they get that attention and when they get it they both will probably melt into the other person's touch without even realizing ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

and hyoga particularly will probably try to avoid being touched in any form because he's very reserved but to me hes just like a cat yknow like he wants you to pet him but he doesnt want to show how much hes enjoying it and thats such a cute thing in my head okay..... hes just......... a big cat....... cries and sobs. like imagine him just getting almost close to cuddling if not fully cuddling with his s/o, after getting used to them, without even realizing

AND SOSHIRO OH MY GOD imagine him in the same scenario.... that just breaks my heart💔💔💔 like he probably won't even sleep just to feel himself hugging their s/o and sharing that warmth because he has never been this close to someone else before 💔💔💔💔💔💔 IMAGINE HIS S/O HUGS HIM BACK NOOOOO tears rolling down my face ..thatd be like the end of him like he would def melt and id die 💔💔💔💔

and both of them surely care a lot about their partner like they probably dont even say it out loud but they'd be around their s/o a lot and they would make sure they aren't hurt or anything n they would most surely be very worried about their partner if they ever got hurt LIKE DO YOU UNDERSTAND .......THEY CARE.... THEY CARE SM BUT THEY DONT KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS IT BECAUSE THE OPPORTUNITY WAS NEVER THERE AND THEY WERE SO IMMERSED IN THEIR TRAINING IT NEVER CROSSED THEIR MIND ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ falls down on my knees and cries very loudly

sorry this was just me yapping but you're like the only one here who gets me n care about those two as well 💔💔💔 the thoughts were thoughting and i needed to share them....

STOP OMG DONT EVER BE SORRY TO YAP I AM SO HAPPY TO YAP WITH YOU TRULY A BORN YAPPER AS WELL

and oh my god.... TOUCH STARVED HOSHINA HYOGA....... FALLING TO THE FLOOR. TRULY. i absolutely love the idea of them BUT ESPECIALLY HYOGA subconsciously realizing he's accepted your touch.... LIKE SHUT UP WDYM HE SUBCONSCIOUSLY JUST WANTS YOU IN HIS ARMS WHAT IF I CRIED

also you're so right they care so much they just struggle to love so much MY GOODNESS im so broken... in my head hyoga is more of an in denial all the time type guy whereas hoshina is a more 'i don't deserve love' or 'i can't stand around falling in love i don't have all day' type guy...

ALSO ALSO ALSO THE THING YOU SAID ABOUT THEM CARING.... NOT WANTING US HURT....... STAY WITH ME I WILL SHARE AN OLD HYOGA WIP THATS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR FOREVER..... I THINK THIS IS THE IDEA RIGHT

but youre so correct i love the fact that they just CARE SO MUCH i think it is my favourite part about hyoga though... it's a little more obvious in hoshina i find but HYOGA...... DEPICTED AS A COLD EX ANTAGONIST THAT THEY DONT KNOW IF THEY CAN TRUST....... CARES....... HED GET MAD FOR NIKKIS SAKE AND STAND IN FRONT OF KOHAKU......... genuinely he's such a lovely lovely guy he cares so much and it just doesn't come across much STOP NOW I MISS HIM SO BAD !!!!

but i love the idea of them as they just put in hours and hours and hours of work on their one thing... truly alone.... not for the fame not for money just for them and their craft there is nothing more admiring i think absolutely adore them.... to me it is such a like. "tell me your bf won't cheat on you without telling me your bf won't cheat on you" type thing like no he'll be in his dojo. working away again today.

LOVE THEM SO MUCH UUEUEUEEEUEUEUE....... when hyoga gets animated again OHHHHH MY GOD....... I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR THE PERSON I WILL BE......

[goodgirlofglory]

Silver fox and the Captain - Chapter 7 (finale)

Chapter 6 - /Masterpost/

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 4,3k

Warnings: Explicit content, explicit language, explicit sexual content, SMUT, ANGST, FLUFF (the whole shabang), angsty feelings of being unworthy and undeserving, oral (m receiving).

Summary: Standing at a cross-roads, will you dare reach out and accept the love and security you do not think yourself worthy off, but is offered to you either way?

Note: This is kinda weird, this last chapter has just been sitting finished in my google docs for MONTHS while I stupidly thought it was just a first draft still. So, I could have finished this series a long time ago, but ey, better late than never, right?

This series is such a fun, little darling for me. Thank you so much for reading🦋

They were offering you a job. With S.H.I.E.L.D. With the Avengers! Not as a team member, per se, God knew you were no superhero. But as a member of the accompanying S.H.I.E.L.D units that worked around the Avengers on smaller and larger missions. 

“I could use someone with your skills of stealth and theft out in the field, to gather intel while the flashy guys do their thing,” Fury had said, that proud smirk back on his lips. 

Black Widow had snorted at Fury’s last comment, and you had felt Hawkeye’s eye roll from across the table. 

Fury had laid the offer on the table - an honestly astounding salary, your own quarters in the compound and some standard access to tech and equipment, on level with a tier one S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Then, he had asked you to think about it before he left the room with a swivel of his leather coat and that had been that. The room had immediately cleared of everyone except you, Steve and a few of the Avengers. 

Black Widow had approached you where you sat shell shocked, your hand still in Steve’s grasp. 

“Silver Fox,” she had greeted you. 

“Black Widow,” you had answered, your voice a mere croak. 

“Call me Natasha,” she said, giving Steve a wink before departing the room. 

You now paced back and forth in Steve’s room, mind rambling. Steve sat patiently on the edge of his bed, eyes tracking your movement, brows drawn slightly down in that concerned expression you still struggled to believe was genuine.

“I just don’t get it,” you said for probably the fifteenth time, “why would he do this? Why offer me this job?” you said incredulously. 

“He told you; he could use someone with your skills,” Steve said patiently, like he’d said all the last times you’d asked. 

“Yeah, but how could he possibly trust me? How could any of you trust me?” you asked and you knew you were lashing out, your tone loud and accusing.

Steve remained calm where he sat, forever the perfect rock for you. Fury’s comment about stealing hearts rushed to the front of your mind, and you felt your cheeks heat. Steve raised himself off the bed and came up to you, warm, broad figure looming over you, cupping your face in his hand. 

“I trust you. Fury trusts my judgment. Do I have any reason to doubt my judgment?” he asked, soft like a lover’s murmur. 

You wanted to blindly protest. No, he had no reason to doubt his judgment, you wanted to believe that as much as him. But there was this incessant voice in your head needling you. Was it true? Could you really measure up to these people? Could you do the switch from morally gray mouse scampering about in the shaddows to a good, team playing member of fucking S.H.I.E.L.D? You wanted it, God did you want it. But… some part deep down whispered that you were delusional. This world, this shining, good and kind world, Steve’s world - it wasn’t for the likes of you. You didn’t belong here, and you didn’t deserve their regard - didn’t deserve Steve. 

“What would happen if I said no? To the job?” you asked instead of answering Steve’s question, looking up into his breath taking baby blue eyes, saw how the pupils expanded as you looked into them, how reverently he looked at you. Like you could ever deserve to be looked upon so lovingly. 

He sighed, pondering your question for a bit, his brows dipping down in the most adorable frown that had your heart clenching. You regretted the question only because it made him look anything other than happy, content or immensely pleasured. For the barest of moments your fingers itched to tear his clothes off and swallow his dick, just to put his mind on other things. 

“Honestly? I don’t know. It’s hard to erase the past. And while there is literally no public dirt on your name, hell, it doesn’t even show up in any database we have -”

“I’m really good,” you interrupted. 

He huffed, fondly exasperated by your cockiness as always.

“Yes - but S.H.I.E.L.D knows. Fury knows… I know,” he said. 

And there it was. Though you had been a ghost for most of your life, even ghosts have baggage from lives lived. No public government or organization had any claim to have you persecuted, but S.H.I.E.L.D had. They knew enough, knew all they had to to take you down - and rightfully so from their point of view. Steve knew it all. You’d spilled everything to him in between the sheets during the last month, a proverbial word vomit that had left you trembling with the relief and the foundation-rocking vulnerability of laying your life and soul bare like that. Steve, the literal angel, had taken it all, wrapped you in his protective warmth and murmured soothing words of comfort and forgiveness each time until you felt shaky for whole new reasons. 

You were shaking slightly now, hearing from his lips that your past might have unavoidable consequences no matter how much he personally forgave you. You knew this of course, had always known you would be toast the minute someone got their hands on you. Hell, you were supposed to be dead now, if Steve hadn't intervened…

He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to his broad chest, propping his chin on the top of your head, rocking from side to side. 

“I tried to convince Fury to let you into a victim protection program. Get you a nice home and job here in the states, let you live a normal life. But he wasn’t entirely convinced. Told me letting you out of your sight now would be stupid. Keep your friends close -”

“-But your enemies closer,” you finished around a lump in your throat. 

He pulled away so he could look into your eyes again. 

“I like to think you’re a friend in this scenario. Selfishly, I would also like to have you close, preferably only as far as down the hall,” he said, stroking a thumb over your jaw. 

“So?” you pressed, needing to know what Fury would do if you said no to the job. 

“So…maybe prison. Maybe some intel exchange with the US government, let them take you. Though that will be over my dead body, fox,” Steve said, and the fierceness with which he said that last part made you believe him. 

The guilt that followed was gut wrenching. The responsibility Steve felt over you left him careless for his own self preservation. Could you trust yourself not to drag him into your unforgivable messes? Could you escape your past and baggage, and not let it unfairly bleed over into Steve’s life?

Distracting yourself from that question, you lifted up on your toes and kissed him, opening your mouth to his tongue.

“Fury will want his answer pretty soon,” Steve murmured against your lips after another kiss that had your hands clinging to his shirt.

He saw your smirk and had already started to shake his head slightly before you spoke, though he was smiling. 

“Then let’s make him wait,” you murmured, your smile matching the one Steve reluctantly let spread on his own lips, though he tried to look reproachful. Adorable. 

You sucked him off on the couch that night. He looked powerful where he sat reclined, his bulged thighs spread wide - virile and strong, potent and capable. From your position on your knees between his legs, he loomed like a mountain, able to snap you like a twig with the barest of effort. All of that made the sounds you pulled from him that much sweeter. 

You suckled noisily on his heavy ballsack, lathering it lovingly with spit before sucking it into your mouth, and Steve’s cock bobbed where it lay on your face. Small “ah” - sounds escaped him, so soft compared to the commanding tones that usually came from him. It made your pussy throb. 

Pulling back, you took his cock in your hand. The tip shone with precum. You stuck your tongue out, flicked it on his frenulum and was rewarded with another glob of leakage oozing from his tip and into your mouth. He moaned above you, one of his hands making its way into your hair. 

“Fuck, f-fox, oh,” he gritted out as you sank your mouth on his length, working the part you couldn’t fit with your hand. 

Your other hand cupped his balls, rolling them on your fingers, letting your fingertips dip even lower. He moaned hoarsely, and you saw in your periphery that the couch cushion was dangerously close to ripping with the way he was fisting it. 

You slobbered on, basking in the sloppy, wet slide of saliva and precum, the hot weight of Steve’s cock on your tongue, the twitches of it as you hollowed your cheek on the upslide. He slid from your mouth with a small, wet pop. 

“I want your cum in my mouth,” you said as you mouthed down his shaft, looking up at his scrunched up face. 

“God,” Steve moaned, throwing his head back, his cock throbbing in your grasp. You were still rolling his balls in your hand. He was really sensitive there, you’d had the pleasure of discovering. 

“Will you give it to me?” you asked as you mouthed your way up to the head again, giving it an open-mouthed kiss. 

He looked back down at you, and you could feel him straining to keep in place, thigh muscles bulging trying to keep his hips from pistoning up, seeking the heat of your mouth again.

“A-anything,” he panted, his hand stroking through your hair as you gave him your undivided attention, savoring it. 

“Good,” you sighed with pleasure around his cock. Steve’s hair was a mess of tousled, blond tufts, there was sweat on his brows and his chest heaved under his unbuttoned shirt. His brows had that furrowed look, and color sat high on his cheeks. Your panties had to be ruined by now.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured against the head of his cock, still kissing it wetly, and another spit of precum drooled from the tip, wetting your lips further. He put his other hand through his own hair and laughed a bit incredulously, helplessly, as you sank onto his cock again, working up a rhythm that would bring him to the brink.

The thrill of having him at your mercy like this was intoxicating. Pleasuring him was intoxicating. Being allowed to see him in these private moments of intimacy was intoxicating, addictive in a way you felt powerless to resist. You wanted to be on your knees for him forever. If only you could. 

The sound of the couch cushion being shred open under Steve’s grip alerted you a split second before your mouth was flooded with his essence, salty and sticky on your tongue. You eased him through his orgasm with your mouth, eagerly swallowing everything he gave you while his huge form trembled on the couch, his soft moans turning into even softer whimpers. You could feel your heartstrings going taut, your blood rushing to pool hot and tender in your chest. 

Later, when he had paid you back seven or eight times for the orgasm on the couch, you rose sticky and sweaty from the bed to wash off before going to sleep, already missing his warmth as you tiptoed to the en suite bathroom. 

Washing your hands after a quick rub down with a warm cloth, you found your own eyes in the mirror. You froze like a deer caught in the headlights. 

What the hell do you think you’re doing? 

Standing there, covered in your own and Steve’s dried and drying love fluids, plump from a month of leisure, hair clean but messy from an afternoon in bed, eyes filled with a childish amount of giddy hope. You suddenly felt foolish. 

This isn’t for you. 

…

You stepped quietly back into the room. Steve was facing away from you, his head a messy, blond mop on the pillow. You knew he would reach for you once you dipped under the covers - that, whether asleep or not, he would reach until he found you, pull you into him and curl around you like a cocoon. 

You dressed in utter silence, your instincts and stealth thankfully not discernibly dulled by a month of lazing about. You fished your readily packed bag from the air vent in the bathroom and walked back into the bedroom to slip out the window, going over the route in your head. Your bones itched to get it over with, though your heart was heavy like lead in your chest. You wondered when you’d get a full night’s sleep again…

“That’s it, then?” you heard behind you as you perched on the window sill, about to crack open the window to let in the chill, night air. 

Fuck

You steeled your expression and turned to find Steve, naked, sitting on the edge of the bed. His expression was so carefully neutral, it almost looked like a mask. 

You said nothing. Didn’t know what to say. Maybe saying nothing would help him let you go. Maybe it could hurt him enough to sever the bond between you. Something deep in your chest surged at that thought, clawing up your throat, screaming no, no, no…

“You don’t have to. It’s not too late,” Steve said then, and damn him for giving you a way out even now, when you so obviously were in the act of betraying him. Damn him and his forgiveness, his too good for his own good heart that you didn’t deserve. “I didn’t want to believe it, but you’ve been thinking about it all night, haven’t you?”

That surprised you. 

“How did you know?” you asked, going over every detail of that night, everything you said, any time you could have slipped. 

He huffed a laugh that wasn’t entirely not fond. 

“I can pretty much sense it by now. When you’re gearing up to bolt. Have experienced it enough times, that shift in the air, how your mind slips to the proverbial horizon,” he said. 

You felt your heart helplessly tug at that. Never had you felt guilty for how your actions affected others. It came with the job, that emotional numbness, the walls. But with Steve, your entire foundation threatened to crumble at his feet. You didn’t want to hurt him. Other than that, you were scared of the pain you yourself would feel at being separated from him. 

Steve sighed heavily, a slight tremor in the exhale of air. 

“I guess, if this is what you need to do, then I can’t force you to stay,” he said, and in that moment, it was as if everything but the two of you shrank away. He wasn’t talking about S.H.I.E.L.D or the Avengers, or the job offer, or your past, or the two completely different worlds you came from. In that moment, it was Steve, just a man, and you, just a woman, and you were leaving him. Abandoning him. 

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t him. It was you, and how much you didn’t deserve him, and how he needed to see that. You wanted to ask him how he meant to explain this fortune? How such a salvation as this could just present itself to you with no hindrance after everything that had come before it? You wanted to cry, but you had forfeited such weaknesses now. Just like you were forfeiting love.

You turned, cracked the window open, and smelled the crispy, night air ripe with summer. 

“I know who I fell in love with,” Steve murmured behind you. He hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed at all. You were suddenly glad you had your back turned to him, for you had no control over the way your eyes widened, nor how your heartbeat kicked into hard gear. In love. Another beat of silence. He was waiting for you to answer him. You didn’t, as unfair and cruel as it was to him. “You’re always welcome back to me, fox,” he said then, and you amazed even yourself with how you managed to slip out the window then, feet sure and silent as they padded across the roof. 

There was a cacophony of noise in your head. Voices screaming to go back, to tackle Steve and kiss him, to suck his soul out of his dick and never let him leave your bed. Voices that wailed in grief and told you to fling yourself from the roof before your heart fell out of your chest. Voices that screamed how unworthy you were of his love and if he wouldn’t see that, you would have to deny him. You scrambled your will to shut them all up, and channeled all your focus and determination to the task at hand; get out of the S.H.I.E.L.D compound undetected. You told yourself you could cry then, well knowing that the moment you crossed off the base and into the US wilderness, you would probably never know a moment’s peace for the rest of your life. No matter, you could carve your heart out and leave it in the ground later. Now you needed to move. 

Deftly, you slipped from shadow to shadow, making your way across the vast building that was the compound. Your feet grew heavier the longer away from your room and from Steve your feet took you. Your breath rattled in your chest, disturbed not from the running, but from how off you felt. Off kilter, off balance, it all felt wrong. But you had to do this. Had to prove to yourself you could escape, that you could do it. 

You swallowed painfully and climbed down the building in steady leaps, lowering yourself the last way with the rope from your bag, carefully moving within the blind spot of the security cameras on the north west corner of the office part of the building, where no one would be this time of night anyway. 

Trekking over the large, green area was the most risky part of the route, but with steady routes from bushes to larger groups of trees. No flood lights, no alarm, no guards with guns. You reached the fence lining the entire base, and got out the wire cutter you’d snagged from maintenance and began making a large enough hole to crawl out. 

In quite a bit of disbelief, you came out on the other side of the fence and started running immediately. With only a small flashlight and the moon in the sky in front of you, you stumbled through the thick forest surrounding the base, your breath the only sound in the night. 

At last, the trees opened to a clearing, and you halted, slowing, slowing, slowing until you stood completely still, staring ahead. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, though you were barely winded. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Your body was all wrong, seemed to squirm, your nerves moving this way and that, protesting where you were, what you were doing. 

I know, I know, you thought to yourself. I don’t want to leave, either. But…but…

But what… 

But what?!

You stared ahead, blindly. 

But. What?

What was the reason for leaving? 

In love. 

The world grinded to a halt for a long moment.

You turned on your heel and started walking. Your walk turned into a run. The moon at your back, back through the trees. You climbed back in through the fence and used the tongs to fit the piece you’d cut out haphazardly back in place. You made a mental note to come back and secure it better soon. Moving back through the shadows, you found your rope on the office side of the building and climbed it to the top. Packing the rope with you, your feet carried you across the roof of the compound, the same way you’d come. Your head was completely silent, your breath steady, your feet sure, your heart a sound beat. Only when you sidled down to the window of your bedroom, did your heart pick up. It was still open, the lights still on. 45 minutes had passed maybe. 

With the same sort of instincts that had always led you in unsure situations, you slipped back into the room. 

Steve looked up from where he sat with his head in his hands, still naked on the edge of the bed. His eyes, wide with surprise, met yours dead on. They were wet. His cheeks were shiny with tears. He was crying.

“Fox?” he said, his voice but a whisper. 

The sob escaped you before you could do anything to stop it. It flew across the dead silent room, an ugly, choking sound that had you so exposed your skin crawled. You threw a hand over your mouth as if you could trap the sound after it’d left. 

Steve rose to his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” you exclaimed, forcing your hand away from your mouth. “I’m so sorry,” you said again, and now there were tears in your eyes. There was no point in trying to keep them in, you knew that. 

Steve took one moment to assess you before he stormed up to you and pulled you into his arms. You pressed your face to his chest as he wrapped his arms, his strong, warm, capable, safe arms around you. Your own arms went around his torso, clinging to his back, shaking. 

“I was scared, and stupid. I act so stupid when I’m scared, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I came right back when I understood how stupid I was acting, please, I’m -” you rambled in between wracking sobs, speaking into Steve’s sternum, your tears smudging on his skin. 

He shushed you quietly, rocking you back and forth softly. “It’s okay, little fox, I understand,” he said, kissing your hair as you sobbed on. He shuffled backwards, dragging you along a bit crookedly before the back of his knees hit the mattress. He toppled back with you clutched in his arms and you fell onto the mattress that still smelled faintly of your mingled scents from earlier that night. 

You lay there for a long while before your breathing evened out. When you at last had gathered the courage, you lifted your head from Steve’s chest and looked into his eyes. They were still a bit red rimmed, his cheeks and nose a bit splotchy red, but they shone now, with something you could only discern as happiness. The guilt flushed your system anew. 

“I made you cry,” you said softly, reaching up a hand to cup his face. 

He leaned into the touch and smiled just a little. 

“Yeah, but I knew you’d be back.”

That made you bristle a bit.

“What? No, you didn’t. I didn’t even know I was coming back,” you protested. 

He shrugged, jostling you a bit in the process. 

“Well, I didn’t know you’d come back so soon, but I knew I’d see you again,” he said, and he was utterly convinced. 

He’d play the long game, if he had to. Would find you and steal moments with you like before, maybe take you back to the compound to do it over again, if that would help. You saw it in his eyes, his determination. His devotion. 

“I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve any of this,” you mumbled, those dreaded words of truth like bile in your throat. 

Steve huffed, fondly exasperated. 

“Fox, if you don’t deserve a little bit of safety and comfort after everything you’ve lived through, who does?” he asked. 

“Yeah, but I’ve done things. Bad things. You’ve said it yourself,” you argued. 

“Y/N. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. The world isn’t black and white. There are no completely good people and no completely bad people. It took me a long time to realize that myself,” he said. 

You didn’t have an answer to that. Hadn’t really thought about it that way. You weren’t entirely convinced, but you knew one thing. This was where you wanted to be. If you looked away from deservedness and karma and social justice or even blind, stupid luck - this was where you wanted to be. And for the first time in your life, you could actually just reach out and take what you wanted. 

Steve kissed your forehead, squeezing you tighter in his arms, and you leaned into it completely helplessly. It felt like you needed his touch to breathe. 

“How far did you get?” he asked. 

“About two miles off base,” you said, closing your eyes, pressing your ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat. 

His breath caught for a moment. 

“Really?”

You snorted. 

“Yeah, you should work on the security in this place. Anyone could just walk in.”

He huffed, arms tightening around you again, and you could almost feel the smug pride rolling off him. 

Proud of me, you thought with that spark of giddy joy that spread molten within your chest.

“Maybe we won't tell Fury about that. I can work my way around upgrading the security,” he said and you giggled. 

There was a moment of silence, a content and peaceful silence that felt so good you wondered how you could be so stupid as to ever let this go. 

“Do you have your answer for Fury?” Steve prompted after another minute of content silence. 

You lifted your head and kissed him. Kissed him long and lingering and as sweetly as you could. 

“Well?” he prompted when you eventually broke away. 

“Nag,” you murmured against his lips. 

“Hey, I’m nothing if not persistent,” he said, smiling against your mouth before nibbling your bottom lip playfully. 

“I know,” you said, “I know who I fell in love with.”

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

(x)

[annlillyjose]

dairy whiskey – update 05 – i finished the book!

[image description: on a background of large, green leaves, a white serif font reads “dairy whiskey – update 05” / end id]

feels so weird to say this, but this is the last update for dairy whiskey – the litfic novel for messed up people (aka me and my pals)

the stats, the facts:

i finished writing this book on 28/06/2023 around 4:00 am

the first draft rests at 76,684 words

this book has ten chapters and ten vignettes

i am deeply sorry to dinah for all the pain i’ve caused her

i miss this book so much already that i cannot sit a minute without thinking about it

i am officially a wreck. a proud one regardless.

i also have a few goodies for y’all!

the dairy whiskey playlist

redeemed by ransom – the dairy whiskey chapbook

unsplash collection

if you think i’m obsessed with my book, yes, i am. i very much am i most likely will be for a long time (if not the rest of my life).

fun fact: i finished writing it a day before my twentieth birthday, so it’s officially the book i wrote through my late teens. gonna be super emo and say, “i grew up with this book!”

so, again, welcome to the final update for dairy whiskey, covering the last three chapters and vignettes.

excerpts and taglist under the cut.

disclaimer: this is an original work of fiction. plagiarism of any kind will not be tolerated.

TWs:

chapter eight – mahalath leannoth

i’ve got two excerpts to share from this chapter. they’re super no-context, you know the drill.

The door to the room had been open, so I stumbled in, rosary in hand. Safety pins were scattered on the bed, some of them bent from pressure. The windowpane and the tiles next to it were covered in talcum powder. On the dressing table were two glasses of black coffee, its dry stain in rings on the bottom of it. It smelled of sweat and American body mist. One of the two pillow covers had been burned with an iron box, leaving an eye-shaped hole in the middle. Curly hair patterned the floor. Among those, like the promised silver lining in a dark cloud, I found it – a white strand of hair, thin, wavy, and membraned in cobwebs.

welcome back, grandma. bye again.

the next excerpt is another one of the thousand melodramatic emotional experiences that dinah goes through.

Nothing made noise. Every lone thing that had been alive and blooming in the village had died. Every land was barren, every river was flooding, every beautiful thing had turned to dust. Every face only a blur and every sound, a cry for help. Everything bleak and bleached, everything lost. Everything was gone and yet, the lives of everyone else remained the same; remained unchanged. Every family untouched but mine. All of them fortunate but mine. Everybody in their nests but me, a raven, flying about the village with a song in its head. It had come from nowhere, cutting through my silence, and it would stay forever as a muffled hum. A somber cry.

it actually runs a bit longer but yeah. that will be it for now.

vignette eight – lover’s vengeance

no excerpts from this chapter. enjoy the silence.

chapter nine – womb stain

teeny tiny excerpt from this one because i can never really shut up.

Mist covered the plantation and the road to the house. It rested in like a chiffon skirt.

vignette nine – vortex of wrath

we’re back with austin vignettes and pretty pretty prose for this pretty pretty boy.

Austin has been both abyss and mirrorball, but today, he is reborn in dirt. He is human more than he is boy. More than an accumulation of lessons and silences forced into place. Today, he is free, his wings unclipped, his fire unleashed. Today, he is lover. His ribs are knives sharpened against the metallic ring of revenge. His hands, mapped with fury, make love with sin. Today, he is man more than he is son. He is tide. He beats against the shore. Today, he takes in a sweep.

this goes on for another half an hour (more or less) because austin is everybody’s favourite and he deserves the world.

chapter ten – wine hearts

only one excerpt from this chapter too.

I woke up in the afternoon with pain piercing through my head. I sat up in bed, clutching chunks of hair in my fists. I buried my head in the pillow and groaned, but the pain remained. I got up and went to the bathroom. I turned the shower on and stood under it, the water, cold despite the sun, falling on my skin. My skin melted under it like a glacier, heat escaping every pore that had trapped it in. I lathered shampoo into my hair and soap onto my skin. I washed myself clean, brushed my teeth, and dried my hair with a towel. I wiped my body with another and changed into a fresh pair of clothes – an olive-green T-shirt and a creme long skirt.

also runs longer and talks about more things dinah does that are… ahem… unfortunately relevant to the (no) plot.

vignette ten – the beginning and the end

so, this is a vignette i might actually take out. i like how the story ends without it and kinda feel like this doesn’t fit that well, but we’ll see about that next month when i sit down for edits.

until then, that’s it! that’s my book! big thanks to everyone who supported me throughout the process of writing it. hope y’all get to hold this in your hand real soon!

– ann.

general taglist (ask to be added or removed)

@shaonsim @heartfullkings @vnsmiles @dallonwrites @sienna-writes @violetpeso @flip-phones @rowansghost @ambidextrousarcher @zoe-louvre @writing-with-l @magic-is-something-we-create @femmeniism @frozenstillicide @wizardfromthesea @rose-bookblood @coffeeandcalligraphy @rodentwrites @saltwaterbells @snehithiye @at-thezenith

[fruitanddarkness]

the mun of this blog is a lovely soul. very sweet, very funny and also very talented. i am very happy to chat with them and to also write with them. i see a lot of effort put into every muse they have, whether it is one of their oc's or a fandom muse. every single character they touch is very distinct in their own personality, very individualistic with no bleed over between muses. and the oc's? they just make me want to hear more about their design. the mun of this blog is full of creativity and has been nothing but kind in sharing their time with me. i am very happy to be mutuals with them. u///u

OOC;; This has just been sitting in my drafts forever because I love to stare at it but also just- how can I possibly come up with anything to match what you sent?? I often struggle with this blog, more than I'd like to admit. Whether it be for activity reasons or feeling as if my muses are not good enough I just... from the bottom of my heart, I cannot thank you enough for your kind words. The time we spend together chatting, plotting, and hopefully, soon once I get my ass in gear, RPing is never time wasted in my book.

You are a simply beautiful human, and you deserve everything good in this world and I adore you with all that I am. My muses do too I'll have you know~

[viscountessevie]

Benophie anon here (the first one!) Thank you so much for responding to my ask, it was part rant, part setting the record straight on how benophies were initially feeling after the s3 announcement. Also re: trivias response to my ask: I totally understand why you may not like the book, imo it's probably the worst written book out of the series as a whole, if irc it's also the shortest book in the series, and is at least a 100 pages shorter than rmb, which might explain the pacing (the book has like 7 scenes total) It's also pretty obvious jq just wanted to get the Ben's story out of the way and move on to polin already. I checked the publishing dates for the series and there is only 7 months between tvwlm and aofag, all the other books are a year apart!! So it was definitely rushed. I think the reason I like the story so much is because it has the potential to be phenomenal. Forbidden love, the inter class pairing and yes even the no 5 shenanigans. These tropes and ideas just do it for me. Their story has the potential to be great and I will forever hate jq for not having the skill or patience to deliver on that potential. As for the workplace harassment complaints: idk man let me enjoy my fantasy book in peace✌ . That's the beauty of having eight books in this series! There's something for everyone. The show has a golden opportunity to take what is the foundation for a great story and make some excellent television out of it. I do think that the the reason they skipped over ben is the cinderella aspect of the story, you must remember how much backlash that trope was getting a year ago, the producers probably got scared and pushed the season which is... fair ig? I just hope they don't feel the need to overcorrect the book, the cinderella trope is only like the first 5 chapters anyway and then its a straight forward forbidden lovers trope. The masquerade episode could be one of the best episodes on the show if done properly. Again: the ingredients for the perfect cake are there, The producers just have to follow the instructions and not add any weird shit in there. Sorry for the long reply lol, but you did ask us to write you and essay. (Also I might add on to this essay in a couple hours, I'm definitely forgetting some stuff)

Previous Ask by Benophie Anon

[Part 2 of this ask is below when I answer it!]

Hii bestie, I know this ask has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I'm briefly back to clear out my old asks :)

Thank you for the essay - I really do love reading them and it's just very nice to know that yall are willing to read mine and give the same energy back 😍 I truly have some of the best anons/mutuals/followers ever so thank you yall!

I'm always here to let yall vent and set the record straight - as I always say this blog is a safe space for anyone who wants to make this a safe space and isn't a bigot. I've also sent along your reply to Triv. I had a good chuckle at "Idk man let me enjoy my fantasy book in peace" you're so valid. Do let me know if you do end up reading The Millionaire Marquess since it's similar to Benophie - maybe it's the book that hits the potential of what you're talking abt with AOFAG!

Also hearing about how short the book is and the publication dates,,, JQ REALLY fucked over Benophie for Book!Polin huh that really sucks and I'm sorry to Benophies out there (well the valid ones, the homophobic and racist weirdos can get out of here).

I definitely understand your frustration with books not hitting the potential you see in them. I had that with a book I reviewed recently, Unladylike Lessons In Love (yes I am indeed showering you with all the HR recs because everyone deserves to read outside JQ)

Don't let the execs and higher ups off the hook, anon cos it's NOT fair that they completely messed up the order of the books. Not to mention how they butchered TVWLM. I don't think these people even care abour elevating the books - they just slapped the series name on it for the in built fanbase which ofc the racist part of that fandom got weeded out REAL QUICK after Regé's casting. Now they're using the characters of colour as props to switch out every season to draw in their POC audience. Well they can't do that with the cracker season so good luck to them.

I'm the same - I only enjoyed AOFAG BECAUSE of Luke T! I don't think I would have been as forgiving of Ben's privileged and lowkey creepy ass in the book if I had read the book first or if Ben was played by anyone else less charming.

I think they aged him down for the ignorance and navieté show version! Also to go with the Marina storyline. He needed to be young and dumb to be tricked by her I guess. Tbh your guess is as good as mine cos this show makes so many questionable choices.

Now at the heels of QC, S3 has a LOT stacked against it. But I don't think the execs or forerunners are gonna even bother trying to redeem her 🤡 so good luck getting the audience to root for her. They're just gonna She's All That it and call it a day tbh. It's going to be bland af and I won't be tuning in. I really am over Bton the show tbh. I'm only still discussing these things cos my blog is so tied to it and my friends are still in it lol. But as you and everyone who follows can see, I have been slowly moving away and expanding my tastes.

To end off, again thanks so much for all your asks! I really do hope S4 is Benophie and they do it justice! For you and my Benophie friends ❤

[softstanb]

my forever is you

fun fact: this fic started five days after my original hunger games au, try to think your way out

even more fun fact: "my forever is you" is a direct quote from tttywo. see?

Forever is subjective, Jihoon would say. My forever is you, Seokmin would respond. 

the hunger games calls for a different kind of angst than what i'm usually known for, yet somehow it ended up being a hurt comfort fic all the same. last time, tttywo, i was trying to focus on a different writing style. this time, this is a more outright hunger games au, gbless. and a little more fun because of it.

here are three victors who have managed to accept that this is what their life will be. they're getting by as best as someone can until it's clear one of them is about to be killed. they're a little unit, as much as you can be in this world, and they're everything to each other. is it the healthiest? probably not. does it matter? no.

jihoon never being able to breathe was also a fun little thing to work with. my own respiratory issues aside, it was kind of an interesting thought experiment to sit with and go huh, could the capitol save a lung with this much damage? i settled on no, they couldn't save peeta's leg after all, but who's really to say. i'm not ms collins, though i wish i had her bag that's for sure lol

but the whole missing part of an organ and also never feeling whole or like you amounted to anything more than a passing breeze, your measly lung capacity, well that was also fun to play with too.

i also, like with any of my other fics, poured countless hours into researching things that dont really matter lol. i spent days trying to figure out where to put the cabin and then how to get them there, if it would be best to go through 6 or 12 or even potentially risk it in 3. what would be the easiest route through these districts even when people werent paying attention to these older victors. i mean, i didnt firmly set a time line, but these guys are about in their 30s. it's been a decade if not 15 years since the most recent games games and its not all that memorable. people outside their own districts dont really remember them. so with all of that, what makes sense dear reader?

i settled on 6, but there were so many other ways i could have played it. you can write that fanfic of my fanfic if you so desire. (just reach out if you do. i am so curious about what'd you do differently i must hear it from the source!)

there were a few different thoughts for an ending too. leaving them at the cabin and leaving it far more open, taking them all the way to their salvation, leaving them somewhere in between. i sat with these thoughts for weeks - all the way up until the draft was due to expire. then i decided to finish it as i have, but you can always ask more on that.

but yeah, the long and short of it is they do see a fire light on that shoreline. they find a little society even. it's sweet, it's cute, jihoon still can't breathe. maybe he almost collapses on their way through the trees before they stumble upon the tiny town but when they get there instead of the hostility they expect, the fight for their lives, they are welcomed in with warm arms. they are in a community time has forgotten and no one cares to deal with.

the rest of the hunger games happens too. they get rid of the games, get rid of snow and coin. the quell doesnt touch our three, and shockingly neither does the revolution. they are one of few that get to live out long lives together, swathed in warmth and love.

it is what they deserve, and it is what they get.

and sure, jihoon is never able to catch his breath. but it doesn’t matter when he has those two in the outfield, catching it for him.

my forever is you

index of rambles